I liked the hometown dates on The Bachelor—the way the moms would cry when their daughters walked through the door, how the dads would act overprotective—how the most important thing in the world to those families was their children’s hearts. It was all bullshit. But sometimes I’d be watching one of those shows and I’d realize that I was crying or I’d see my face reflected in the computer screen—smiling like an idiot. I hated myself in those moments—that that’s who I was.
