Corinne’s Refreshing Limo Exit on ‘The Bachelor’
No therapist needed
OK, I’m a little late to the game on this one because it happened on last week’s Bachelor episode, but I found myself discussing Corinne’s extremely noteworthy limo exit with a friend over brunch this weekend and it’s still on my mind. Plus, very early in my blogging days I used to write about The Bachelor, like in this post from ten years ago about Andy’s season, “Officer and a Gentleman.” I’ll admit that reading this post felt like trying to recall a dream from long, long ago, that feels vaguely familiar but swirls just out of reach. Bevin? Amanda? Who was Andy even? A quick Google search returned some photos that sort of jogged my memory a little, but still, I can’t believe I followed that season closely and all I’m left with is an almost-memory.
Anyway, while I was not a Corinne fan this season, her exit made an impression on me, and thinking back to the simpler times of my old Bachelor blogging days made me want to return to my roots and whip up a post about why.
For at least the past ten years, including Andy-whom-I-barely-remember’s season, I’ve watched The Bachelor at my neighbor’s. And we’ve always said that that limo driver should be required to have an MSW. Because those women get in that limo after being sent home, and they all go to the same place, very often through hysterical, choked tears: “What’s wrong with me? What did I do wrong? This always happens to me! Why can’t I ever find love? When is it going to be my turn?” And then this quickly progresses to: “I’ll never find love. I’ll be alone forever!” Sob.
A couple of things here. First of all, I so feel you, rejected ladies of The Bachelor. This is my exact internal dialogue whenever things don’t work out with a guy I like. Even if it’s a guy I don’t know very well (as often happens on The Bachelor)! Even if it’s a guy I do know sort of well and he’s kind of an asshole (as also has been known to happen on The Bachelor)!
So when my friend and I watch we’re always like, “No! It’s not about you! Don’t turn it into something being wrong with you! This doesn’t mean it’s all over for you! You will find love!” There should really be a therapist present in that front seat to stop these women from going down this low self-esteem, self-berating spiral. But there’s not. There’s only a silent camera person there to capture their tortured, exposed inner dialogue.
And also we’re like, “Honey, you’re only 23! You don’t even know what it’s like.” When I was that age I had so many more years ahead of me of relationships not working out. It’s been a long, hard road (some would say journey) and 23 is really just too young for me to have that much sympathy for how hard it’s been to find love. Talk to me when you’re 41!
But back to the limo. On last night’s episode, even Rachel, who’s a lawyer, said, “This is the story of my life. Back to square one,” when she was being driven away after Nick sent her home, which just goes to show that even badass lawyers struggle with their self-esteem.
But last week, Corinne did not need a therapist driving her limo. She did not go to that self-hating place. At first, through tears, she did the typical, “Saying goodbye to Nick is like, I feel like my heart is like, literally, like, it’s never gonna be repaired…Why can’t I just have a normal relationship?” But then, she turned it around!
“You know what? I’m done. Done, trying to show my men how much I worship them and I love them and I care for them and I support them. I need that! …I am done trying to impress these men. I’m going to be me, and whatever happens, happens, but I will never kiss up to a man ever again in my life,” she declared, before flopping back into one of her signature naps. Corinne, I know. I’m exhausted, too.
Through all those hazy years of Bachelor watching, one season blurring into the next, I don’t ever remember someone having her shit so together in the farewell limo. Maybe next time my self-esteem is taking a nosedive as I blame myself for some guy’s jerky behavior, or tell myself that this always happens to me and I’ll be alone forever, I’ll be able to turn it around, too. Maybe instead of going down the self-berating drain, I’ll be able to adopt Corinne’s words as my new inner dialogue. I’m done trying to impress these men. I’m going be me, and whatever happens, happens.