by Sean Lowe
A lump formed in my throat as I packed my bag for Houston. I couldn’t believe I would be possibly engaged to one of these women. I tried to push this thought out of my mind. At this point, I couldn’t think about the finish line. Not everyone on the show proposed at the end of it, and I didn’t have to either. After all, who actually finds a spouse on reality TV? Never before in the history of the franchise had the Bachelor proposed to someone on the show and ended up at the altar with the same person. I didn’t have to be the first one. I placed my T-shirts into the suitcase and zipped it shut, willing myself not to think too far ahead.
One step at a time.
AshLee was first up. She’d been a front-runner from the beginning, because she was the type of woman I was looking for: loving, compassionate, sweet, and nurturing. Though I loved how we seemed to share the same values, I never saw her having fun or being goofy. She was serious and sober-minded. Knowing her story, I saw that her serious nature made sense. She’d been through a great deal. Her childhood had been less than ideal. In fact, it sounded more like a nightmare than a typical childhood. She told me she spent time in the foster-care system before finally being adopted when she was six years old.
Though I knew she’d make an excellent wife and mother, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I couldn’t really let loose and have a goofy time with her. I remember when I was in St. Croix, I was telling the producers that I needed to figure out if she could be funny. Jonah, who has a twisted sense of humor, always told me jokes. One of his favorites was this:
A horse walks into a bar.
The bartender says, “Why the long face?”
And the horse says, “My wife just died.”
Jonah and I laughed at that forever. The joke, of course, was that the horse really was sad. In St. Croix, I decided to test this out on AshLee. I’ve been known to tell a few off-color jokes—I got that from my dad and Mimi—and I thought her response would tell me all I needed to know about her sense of humor. When I tried it out on AshLee, she looked at me blankly. Of course, it’s a terrible joke.
Maybe it was to her credit she didn’t laugh.
But when I got to Houston—and met AshLee along with her fluffy dog, Bailey—I was determined to figure out if we could have fun together.
“My parents aren’t your typical pastor’s family,” she told me as we talked about meeting her family. “My dad’s into motorcycles and he’s extremely outdoorsy.”
Because my dad is also an ordained minister, I knew our families would share the same values. I wasn’t even nervous to meet them—I normally do pretty well meeting parents and talking to families.
Immediately, I hit it off with her parents. I could tell her dad was a man of deep faith, and I enjoyed talking to him about his life and ministry. Her mom was great, too, and really opened up to me. She confided in me a pertinent detail about AshLee’s life: the year prior to her adoption, AshLee had been in five foster homes.
That hit me hard. I’ve always thought I’d one day want to adopt and really value people who invest so heavily in children in need. When her dad told me about meeting AshLee as a little girl, it really touched me.
“She walked in and right away I looked at her, and I looked at the social worker, and I said ‘This one’s going to be really hard to give back,’ ” he said, with the practiced cadence that indicated this was a story he loved to tell. “The moment I saw her, I fell in love with her. So whatever man takes her for the rest of her life is going to have to fall in love with her like that.”
It made me appreciate AshLee even more.
After meeting her parents, I could see where her big heart came from. Her mom and dad were both kind and loving, and I could tell they genuinely wanted their daughter to be happy. It was easy to imagine myself being part of her family. Even though she wasn’t as carefree as the other women, her past made her serious nature more understandable. Though I’d been nervous about the potentially awkward hometown dates, the first one was so amazing I was ready to face them all.
When I arrived at Seattle’s Pike Place Market, a historic farmers’ market built on the Elliott Bay waterfront, I was excited to see Catherine. We began our date in a fish market, where we tossed fish with their crew of fishmongers. I had an advantage over Catherine because of my football experience, but she definitely held her own. (Plus, she actually was on a football team as a kid, until her mom made her quit to be a cheerleader!)
Anytime we went to a market or strolled around a city, staffers always came over and put a bunch of cash in my pocket. That way, on television it would seem like I had money instead of being a bum without cash. Anyway, after visiting a doughnut stand, I put my arm around Catherine and jammed a powdered doughnut in her ear. In turn, she smashed a chocolate doughnut on my face. We were having so much fun together, like two kids.
Then we came upon a gum wall, which is exactly what it sounds like: a wall with millions of pieces of gum stuck to it. The tradition is that people write notes, fold them up, and use gum like glue to hold them to the wall. Ever since the beginning of the show, Catherine had been sending me silly notes—“I like it that you don’t have arm hair” was the most recent one. So we wrote notes to each other and stuck them to the wall. I felt a certain joy when I was with her, but everything changed when we got to her home.
Everything there felt different. Catherine was from a Filipino culture, she lived a couple of blocks from her mom, and her grandma and cousins lived in the house next door. While AshLee’s mom was a typical Southern mom—“Come on in. Let me get you some iced tea”—Catherine’s mom was warm but much more skeptical.
Catherine had prepared me in advance that there was a culturally sensitive way to approach “Lola,” the Filipino word for grandmother. When I walked in, Lola offered me her hand. I took it and pressed it to my forehead, which Catherine had explained was a gesture used as a sign of respect to older people. As I was doing this, I halfway wondered if this was some sort of joke and if everyone would suddenly break out into laughter. It wasn’t, and my attempt pleased her grandmother.
“Handsome,” she said approvingly. “I’m going to get him.” Catherine’s grandmother was one of the funniest women I’d ever met. She seemed like a movie character. Her husband had died thirty-six years earlier, so Lola teased, “I’m single, but I’m still hunting.”
I felt like I’d won over Catherine’s grandmother, but I got the very real feeling that her mom and sisters were unsure a reality TV romance could work. In other words, they were reasonable folks.
Catherine’s mom and I had a chance to chat in her kitchen as we rolled lumpia—Filipino pastries, sort of like spring rolls. She was welcoming and kind, but I could only get so deep while wearing a frilly apron. We chatted in her living room, Catherine sat on my back while I did pushups, and we laughed.
I knew before I arrived that I wouldn’t be meeting Catherine’s dad during this hometown date. When we were in St. Croix, Catherine told me a harrowing story about how he had battled depression when she was a kid. When she was fourteen, he tried to commit suicide in front of her and her sisters and was immediately taken away. He recently moved back to the states from Taiwan and had been doing much better.
I could tell that Catherine’s sisters were a little upset that Catherine had told me about his situation on national television. Even Catherine felt like she may have told something to the world that shouldn’t have been shared. She definitely didn’t want to hurt her dad and always spoke of him with honor and respect. I think this reveals the authenticity of the show. People understand that reality TV can be scripted. But The Bachelor is much more authentic than people think. In normal relationships, people have tough conversations. On The Bachelor, they just happen to occur on camera.
When I talked to Catherine’s sisters, Monica and India, I liked the way they were both protective and honest about their sister.
“Do you think she’s ready to settle down?” I asked. Honestly, I thought this was a slow ball ques
tion. The sort of thing you toss out there to get a conversation going.
Monica paused for a long time, then smiled. “I can’t see her having kids right away. She goes in 100 percent with guys and makes things really fun. But when the fun wears off . . .”
I swallowed hard. One of the main reasons I liked being with Catherine was her silly sensibility the other girls lacked. Was her sister saying this was a temporary phase that would soon wear off?
“She wants to be with someone who supports all of her dreams. If you don’t support her dreams, she’ll leave,” she said.
“Her dreams?” I asked.
“Well, she has a strong desire to pursue a career as a graphic designer and live in New York.”
Odd, I thought. Catherine never mentioned that to me. I’d love to have a wife with a career and dreams, but I found it interesting that Catherine had not—at least not yet—mentioned her aspirations to me. It was also the first time I’d heard that she planned on living in New York. I’d always expected us to live back in Dallas.
“Plus, every guy she’s dated has been too easy on her,” Monica said. “She needs a guy who can call her out.”
I laughed, a little nervously. “What kinds of things does she need to be called out on?”
“She’s messy,” India said. “I mean, she’s not dirty, but she has clothes strewn around. Everywhere.”
I couldn’t decide if her sisters were being too hard on Catherine or if they were just skeptical of, well, everything.
“Plus, she needs someone who can handle her moods. She’s either very happy or very focused. Some guys get a little nervous about that.”
The conversation unnerved me. When I went to the kitchen to talk to her mom, I had no idea what to expect. I could tell everyone was surprised with how quickly things had progressed. And I understood. Catherine had gone off to do this show as a fun adventure. They didn’t anticipate that she’d show up with her heart fully invested in some stranger.
“So how are you feeling about things?” I asked her mom.
“This is an adventure. This is very unique. Will it work? I don’t know,” she said, standing next to the sink. We were in the same kitchen where I was wearing a floral apron just hours before, but the mood had sobered. “I don’t want anybody to get hurt. I don’t want my daughter to get hurt. You don’t want to lead her on because we don’t want that. She shouldn’t lead you on because you wouldn’t want that. Do you have any other questions for me?”
Well, there is this one little thing, I thought.
“I obviously don’t know where this relationship is going,” I said. “But I wouldn’t want it to get to a place where I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with your daughter and not have your blessing.”
Of course, this process is so awkward. It makes complete sense for a parent to withhold his or her blessing in this rather unusual romantic circumstance. However, I had to ask. I wouldn’t want to propose to someone whose family was opposed to our marriage. This was my last chance to spend time with Catherine’s mom before I had to make some very serious choices.
“Well, you have to leave, you have three other ladies, and you have to mull it over,” her mom said. “We’ll see what happens.”
In other words, I asked her for her blessing, and she didn’t give it.
At the end of the day, I was disappointed and frustrated. Her family’s skepticism—though understandable—made me uneasy with my relationship with Catherine. Plus, her sisters brought up things about Catherine that gave me doubts.
“How should I address your dad when I meet him?” I asked Lindsay during my next stop in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. “Mister or General?”
Lindsay’s dad was the head of a post that contained the Military Police School, the Army Engineer School, and the Chemical, Biological, Radiological and Nuclear School. He’d recently done a duty in Afghanistan, where he commanded the Corps of Engineers operations. Though I wasn’t nervous to meet the man, I wanted to show him the proper respect.
“I don’t know.” Lindsay laughed. “I think maybe just avoid saying it.”
When I met him, however, I went with what felt natural. “Hey, Mr. Yenter, nice to meet you.”
Turned out, he was an amazingly nice guy. I highly respect people who serve in the military, and I could see how her father’s values and courage helped shape Lindsay’s life. But I was also eager to meet her mom. Lindsay’s strength, stability, and supportive nature, I suspected, came from her. When I met her in person, I knew my suspicion was right on target. She was so warm and welcoming, and I loved getting to know the woman who had kept the family together throughout all the uncertainty of military life.
My favorite member of Lindsay’s family might have been her brother, Marcus. I sat down with him and talked to him about video games and comic books, which I know very little about. He was the sweetest kid I’ve ever met, and we really hit it off.
Her family was just like my family. They loved to watch Seinfeld, her mom talked about their Christian faith, and they seemed comfortable around one another and me. I laughed that the girl in the wedding dress was turning out to be the one who most closely shared my values.
When it came time to talk to her dad about the possibility of marrying Lindsay, however, my heart raced. This was where things had gone bad at Catherine’s house, and I was hoping my talk with Mr. Yenter would go more smoothly.
“Being a paratrooper is all about managing risk,” her dad said. “If you guys figure out that’s what you want to do, you have to have—as we say in the army—the authority to make the decision. So you have my blessing.” I was so relieved—and then he added, “As long as Lindsay says yes. If she doesn’t say yes, you no longer have it.”
I was so touched by the visit. It felt like her father accepted me and even thought I was worthy to be with his daughter. It made Lindsay even more attractive to me.
Before I left, her dad gave a speech about how it had been an honor to have me in their home. In the middle of it, Marcus interrupted and said, “I want you to be in our family.”
Though I couldn’t say anything, I thought, Marcus, the feeling is mutual.
The last hometown date was the most dramatic. Yes, that word might get overused when describing The Bachelor episodes, but it is the right word to describe what happened in Los Angeles when I met Desiree’s family.
I noticed that every time Des spoke of her family, she got very emotional. It was easy to see how much she loved them and how badly she wanted the kind of lifelong love that her parents share.
When I finally got to meet them, I understood her affection for them. Her parents could best be described as salt of the earth. They were kind, encouraging, and accepting of my relationship with their daughter. Her brother, Nate, was great too.
“I was planning on giving you a hard time,” he said. “But there’s nothing wrong with you.” We seemed to share the same faith, and he even told me he was thinking of becoming a missionary.
My night is done, I thought. I’ve won everyone over.
During dinner, we told her family about all our adventures. I was always aware of how the parents might perceive our relationship. The dates were short, so parents tended to notice every detail of the day and draw conclusions. While we ate, I wondered if Des might have been showing me more affection than I was showing her. She was touching my arm, laughing, and putting her arm around me. It sounds sort of self-conscious to be thinking of these things, but I didn’t want her parents to think I wasn’t interested in Des. I put my arm around her and told them some of the funny adventures we’d had. Everyone laughed. I loved her family.
Suddenly, however, her brother told the producers he needed to talk to me again.
Okay, I thought. Maybe he forgot to tell me something. We went outside and began a conversation that I thought would be a continuation of the nice, affable chat we’d shared earlier. But when he began to talk, it was as though I were talking to a different guy.
“I believe she’s really into you, but you’re not into her,” he challenged me. “If you’re feeling that way, you can’t ask her to marry you.”
“I don’t see where you got that,” I said, though I wondered if he noticed I wasn’t as affectionate to Des as she was to me. Was he picking up on something even I didn’t see? “I’m crazy about your sister,” I said.
“You’re crazy about a lot of girls,” he sneered.
“Of course, I have three other great girls.”
“You don’t know who you’ll choose?”
“I hope when the time comes,” I said, “I’ll know.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
“Did that put your mind at ease a bit?” I asked, in an effort to at least wrap up the strange conversation.
“Not at all,” he said. “You’re just a playboy. You’re just having fun with the circumstances.”
I had been wondering if he had some sort of sense I should pay attention to. Now I knew he was off base. My integrity was very important to me, and the way he was so dismissive of me—when he’d previously been so affirming—was bizarre.
“I’m sorry I gave you that opinion,” I said, trying to control my anger. “But that’s not me.”
“I’m not buying it,” he responded quickly.
He didn’t know me, and he sure couldn’t speak to my integrity. As badly as I wanted to confront him, I held back. I didn’t want to cause a huge scene and embarrass Des and her parents even more than they already were.
Though my interaction with her brother didn’t affect the way I looked at Des, it made me wonder.
