I hate to say “I told you so”… okay, that’s a lie. I love to say “I told you so.” I simply refrain from saying it, one day at a time, same as I refrain from other momentarily-enjoyable-but-ultimately-destructive endeavors. You know: smoking, drinking, inhaling white powders…
The point is, I did not predict that self-proclaimed love addict and universally proclaimed attention suck Rachel Uchitel’s new marriage was doomed to an early demise. I merely hinted at the fact. Back in October of 2011, I wrote a blog post entitled ADD MEETS TMZ. I said to Rachel (whom I do not know personally, but call by her first name anyway):
“Nothing wrong with the younger man; younger men rock. Nothing wrong with [an impromptu Vegas wedding at] the Little White Chapel; weddings that require more choreographed etiquette than a state dinner suck. Where you’ve gone wrong is believing that a ceremony and a pair of rings is going to do anything to make you less of a love addict. Marriage fixes nothing.
One more time, gang: A relationship will cure your love addiction about as well as cocaine will cure your drug addiction.”
And so it was.
According to the titular TMZ, Rachel’s marriage ended after a 20 months when “she woke up to learn her hubby hadn’t gone to the grocery store like he had promised. So Rachel had to schlep to the store with baby Wyatt and the family dog. And when she got back, all hell broke loose … name-calling on Matt’s part and a little slapping on Rachel’s.
“We’re told Matt called her a ‘dictator’ for ordering him to perform chores on her timeline. It escalated to the point Rachel called 911, pleading with cops to eject Matt from the house.” According to their source, the police didn’t see the urgency and Rachel herself left the house, taking their child with her. This led husband Matt Hahn to charge her with kidnapping… and it escalated from there.
The sad part is, Rachel could have predicted all of this herself had she only listened to her own interviews. She’s the one who said her love addiction leads her to “basically put a mask over somebody’s head and pretend they’re somebody who they’re not. In the end, you get disappointed when they don’t react the way you want them to.” Like, for instance, getting up early and doing the promised grocery shopping.
We infatuation junkies imbue our love objects with a hundred noble qualities — intellect, humor, compassion, generosity, talent, ambition — based on no evidence other than maybe some hot sex and our own romantic longing. When they turn out, inevitably, not to have many of those imagined qualities at all, we are shocked. Shocked, I say. “You’ve changed,” we tell them. “He deceived me,” we tell ourselves. When the simple truth was, we never got close enough to the love object to find out what the hell he or she was really like in the first place.
And here’s the rub: We don’t want to get that close to our love objects, because we are terrified that if we really get deep enough into the swamp to meet their alligators… they will meet ours. Bottom line, love addicts are terrified of intimacy. Oh, we think we want intimacy more than anything. We’d claw our way underneath your ribcage and take up residency if we could. But that’s not intimacy; it’s Alien 5.
And, as Rachel Uchitel Hahn has learned, a bad basis for a marriage.