Photo by Rob de Winter
My Real Memoir
I was more cautious with Dinah than I’d been with previous relationships. If a relationship was even what this was. The words to the pop song “Trying to Get the Feeling Again” (“It seemed to disappear as fast as it came”) had haunted me since my last breakup. I’d always considered the rush of infatuation proof of real love. And yet none of my three big loves had lasted. So maybe I didn’t know what real love was after all.
What I felt for Dinah was fascination. I wanted to peel away all the layers of her sophistication and brokenness, to love her instead of her armor. Not despite her wounds, but because of them. And I wanted to be loved back the same way.
Yet I’d kept things from her. True, I’d told her how devastated I’d been, as an actor, the night I melted down in front of an audience. But I hadn’t told her about the real meltdown that followed. Or the onslaughts of panic when I was alone with the person I trusted least—myself. Or about my constant fear of losing control and doing something unspeakable. Still, I knew that if there was any chance of us becoming an Us, I’d have to tell her. So I did.
We were together in my darkened bedroom, the same space that was engulfed by light and sparrows each morning. I was pretty sure Dinah would run out the front door. Nevertheless, I told her I was afraid that one day I might go insane and attack her “with a knife or something!” She stared at me in disbelief.
And then she laughed. “Are you serious? I’m two inches taller than you and eight pounds heavier. I’d beat the shit out of you!”
Instantly, my anxiety about harming her vanished. Finally, a fear I didn’t have to control! It was also my first glimpse of the light that would eventually invade my darkness, and Dinah’s as well. Though neither of us knew it yet.
That was the turning point in our relationship. Yes, relationship. As in the Latin relationem, to “bring back” or “restore.” For that was when Dinah and I began restoring each other. Slowly and awkwardly, sometimes sweetly, occasionally shouting, we revealed parts of ourselves we’d never shown anyone else. And in doing so, we became an Us.
Still, there was something I hadn’t revealed: my hunger to know my life’s purpose. Dinah was an atheist, so I’d kept it to myself. Sure, she might have tolerated a little esoteric Zen. But my blind date with Buddhism hadn’t led to the why I sought.
And then, while flipping channels one day, I accidentally landed on a big-haired televangelist’s show. I laughed and was about to click again, when a mentally and physically handicapped teenager came forward. Tears ran down his cheeks as he talked about knowing God loved him “just like I am.”
And it suddenly struck me: This young man could never have understood the manifold “spiritual paths” I’d been studying. Nor would he have wanted to. He simply wanted a relationship with God. And in that moment, I realized that a loving Creator would have made a way to restore all of his children. I stumbled back, sat down hard on the coffee table, and matched that kid…
Tear for tear.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Thank you for this valuable sharing.
My privilege, Sait.
Beautiful, I chuckled at Dinah’s response 😀😀
;>) In it’s own way, it was a God-moment for me, just as the kid on television was.
It’s amazing how God speaks and works through these moments 👌
Very nice.
Thank you, Tansy.
🌹🌹
Thanks for posting
My privilege, L.G.
💙
The serendipitous “Hello” from above. They never stop. Thankfully!
Ament to that, Carol!
Love it, Mitch! I go to a church that is filled with seminary students, and most of them understand things like exegesis and hermaneutics. (Me, I wouldn’t exit Jesus if you put a gun to my head, and I STILL don’t know who Herman is. 🤷♀️) But, bless them, they still can (and do) explain the gospel to anyone and everyone.
;>) Exactly, Annie.
Hmmm. I thought you were a minister for a long time since you write about God and C.S. Lewis. I just checked your bio and am surprised you’re not. I was confused by your My Real Memoir. I am mostly confused these days.
I’m mostly confused these days too. ;>) By “minister,” I assume you mean formally serving in that role at a church. I have in the past, but am not currently. I do still minister to people, however (both believers and non-believers), but through my writing, directing, music, etc.
Thanks. That is nice to know. I like the ministering.
I’m delighted to hear that, Lily.
Touching account. I love your candor, Mitch. 🙂
Thank you, Nancy.
Even love is not easy if its not real in its entirety
True, Zuhaib.
go Dinah! Be careful of your assumptions and all that… great post, Linda 🙂
Thank you, Linda!
“I’d always considered the rush of infatuation proof of real love.”
This happens with me often.
I have two examples. The recent one is a close friend. Another one is a classmate from school.
I realise I always like a softer side of a person. Because my own life remains hard more or less.
It’s possible though that I am having advantage of something which the other person might not have.
I don’t want to participate in real relationships. I have seen so many couples fighting on daily basis.
I’m not sure I would like to shout on someone, in general and the person whom I love.
Also I don’t want to get hurt either.
Emotional blackmailing/attacks easily make me “vulnerable”.
I don’t have an answer when I have been attacked emotionally.
I just remain silent, accepting the reality. I accept the other person must be an authority, and they know/have lived life, more honestly and better than me.
It doesn’t hurt actually when you realise you are infatuated.
It seems you enjoy imagining and exploring possibilities. You may want to write, draw, or animate what you imagine.
Physical touch carries warmth. Open conversations those are deep give a strong feeling of connection.
Security of any kind is good. But too much comfort and security stops you from being vulnerable.
It prohibits growth.
Receiving heartbreaks don’t seem like growing, but your first heartbreak or rejection might be an important learning point, when you think so.
Infatuation is fun indeed, Loku. But as you mature, you develop a desire for a deeper, longer-lasting love, and learn that the risk of being hurt is worth it. I’ve been married 40 years, and have no regrets.
I agree, Mitch.
Well said, Mitch. My wife, Momo, was part of the Jesus revolution back in 70. It took me until 72 to become a born-again Christian. She questioned nothing; I questioned everything and rebelled against it all. My moment of redemption came on the beach, alone, one night under the stars. I still laugh at the big-haired televangelist when I can find them on the tube. My late late late, aunt Norma swears one healed her when she mailed him fifty-dollars and put on hand on the back of the portable TV. It was likely an electric shock, but she felt better.
Faith is a mysterious thing, isn’t it, Phil?
It’ working right now. Momo is in a battle with cancer and the surgeon thinks she got it all. We pray a lot, not just for ourselves, but for everything, even our birds that visit.
Glad the news is encouraging, Phil. 🙏
I love that you share your story, I know it helps others to know they are not alone. It is amazing how God opens our hearts a little at a time to draw us nearer to His love, until we accept Him.
It certainly is, Peggy.
I am enjoying this journey you have us on Mitch. Not only could I not write or even recall my past in such detail, but it would be impossible to match the passion.
Why, thank you, Randy.
Funny, I see myself in several ways in this essay. Coincidentally enough, it was a big-haired televangelist that turned me away from the path of destruction I was on. Years later when I met my wife I was fairly open about my previous struggles because dating me would be a gamble and she deserved to know the odds.
Way to go, Danny.
This hit me deep. The rawness, the honesty, the slow becoming of an Us—beautifully told. 💛 I write about emotional healing and soul connections at https://wp.me/pgDWAA-es if anyone needs a little light. 🌿
Thank you, and good to meet you.
I feel like people we chose to fall inlove with sometimes fall out of love- whilst we r still engaged with them
Hello Mitch! I just posted “Link Love” and mentioned your blog in it, at https://happilywriting.com/2025/07/25/link-love/ . Happy blogging! Ramona
Why, thank you, Ramona!
Thanks for sharing this Mitch. One of the small group participants in our place is also mentally handicapped. We welcomed her into the group because we knew that the Lord loves her as much as He does the rest of us. Even if we sometimes feel awkward whenever she participates in our discussions. We’re now glad that we did. More than a few times she would come up with really insightful comments, a sign that Jesus now lives within her.
💕
Your post also reminded us about this verse: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.” (1 Corinthians 1:19)
A very apt quote, Leo & Nina.
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Love is easy, relationship is hard.” That hits deep. You’ve perfectly summed up the difference between the feeling of love and the work of building something lasting. I cover a lot of the challenges you discuss on my blog, Relationship With Murf (https://relationshipwithmurf.com/). It’s a great topic to explore!