The Hidden Link Between Emotionally Unavailable Men and My Childhood Wounds
Dana Medvedev is a leading Intimacy & Narcissistic Abuse Recovery Coach and creator of REVIVE, a breakthrough program helping women rise from emotional manipulation, reclaim their power, and feel safe, sensual, and unstoppable again.
I wasn’t born with the desire to be someone’s second choice. I didn’t wake up one day thinking, “I want to be the woman in the shadows.” And yet, somehow, that’s where I ended up. The painful truth? It’s not about him. It’s not even about the other woman. It’s about me, about the child within me who still hopes to be chosen. This time.
When I feel drawn to men who can’t or won’t fully commit, something deep within me gets triggered: the wound of abandonment, the wound of rejection, perhaps even the desire to fix an old story from my past that was left unresolved. It’s not just erotic desire or the fascination with something forbidden. It’s the familiar pain of a child who learned she had to fight for love, that she had to earn it, compete, and win.
The oedipal triangle reloaded: Between mom, dad, and me
As theoretical as it may sound, the truth is both raw and simple: I find myself trapped in the old Oedipal triangle, me, him, the other woman. But really, it’s the old story: me, dad, and mom. That was the first time I felt what it meant to not be fully seen, to be second, to feel jealous of the attention he gave someone else. To believe that if he chose me, I would finally have ultimate validation.
Today, the script is the same, only the actors have changed. This isn’t about adult love. It’s about the child in me who wants to rewrite the past, who wants to defeat the mother, and finally be “the chosen one” by the father. It’s a painful and unconscious game in which I lay my soul bare for a scrap of attention and “saving love.”
Competing with her: A false battle with myself
The brutal truth? I’m not really competing with the other woman. I’m competing with myself, with the parts of me I believe are not enough, not lovable, not worthy. She becomes the symbol of everything I think I lack: she has what I don’t, she is what I’m not, she was chosen, I was not.
But in reality, the battle isn’t about her. It’s about how much I still believe I need to be better than someone else to be loved. It’s about how little I’ve learned to choose myself, to respect myself, to set boundaries, and to stop accepting emotional crumbs as “proof” of love.
What am I really looking for? Repair, power, love
I’m seeking repair. I’m seeking healing. I’m seeking to take back control where I once felt small, humiliated, and invisible. I don’t accept the role of the mistress out of pleasure, but out of lack, not from real desire, but from an old survival strategy: if I try hard enough, maybe he’ll love me. Maybe he’ll leave the other woman. Maybe he’ll choose me.
But that maybe becomes a drug. An endless wait. And in the meantime, I lose myself.
The way out: Healing the wound and choosing my own worth
It’s time to acknowledge my wound, not project it onto every emotionally unavailable man who crosses my path. Not cover it with passionate sex, secret messages, or delayed promises. It’s time to see that the child in me deserves healing, not repetitive humiliation.
I no longer want to recreate the Oedipal triangle. I no longer want to be in a competition where no one truly wins. I no longer want to offer my heart to someone who isn’t fully present.
I want to choose. I want to choose me. To learn that I don’t need to be chosen in order to be worthy. To learn that I don’t need to repeat the pain to feel alive. To learn that I can step out of the mistress script and become a whole, conscious, loving woman, starting with myself.
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Dana Medvedev, Narcissistic Abuse and Intimacy Coach
Dana Medvedev is an Intimacy and Narcissistic Abuse Recovery Coach and a survivor who turned her own trauma into transformation. She is the creator of REVIVE, a powerful program guiding women through the deep work of healing after narcissistic abuse, emotionally, psychologically, and somatically. Known for her sharp intuition, raw honesty, and deeply empathetic presence, she holds space without sugarcoating. Her no-nonsense style cuts through victimhood and confusion to help women reclaim their bodies, boundaries, and brilliance. Her mission is personal: to help others do what she did, break the cycle, rebuild from the inside out, and come home to themselves.
