My personal resume boasts a graduate degree, stable income and independence, an awesome rack and quick wit. All of which make me a pretty damn good catch if I do say so myself… add in my photographic memory for every article and tip I’ve ever read in Cosmo magazine and voila, DREAM BOAT!
Also, my over educated mind has created this fantasy picture that defines a healthy relationship as one that consists of two individuals with equal responsibility for providing the “good stuff” and yet here I sit, completely smitten over someone who could NEVER fit into that mental image.
Sad, right? But seriously…. I know I’m not alone in this one!
We all know him…he may be our kid brother, or bestfriends ex-boyfriend or…if the guy who, despite your better judgement you bend over backwards for and cant help but get butterflies when he writes you from the county jail.. (well, it hasn’t gotten that bad…yet).
Why are guys who are bad for us, the ones we enjoy the most!? I mean..I’m not living in my momma’s house anymore, this isn’t an attention seeking thing. I’ve had too much therapy to still blame this on a “daddy complex.” So what then? Maybe my fear of commitment finds safety in the direct contradiction with “ideal,” keeping me from ever having to commit? Maybe the internal social worker in me, just wants to fix him? Or maybe its the muscles… After all, robbing banks, and running from folks takes a lot of athletic ability! Yeah, I think its the muscles.
My current bad boy is 4 years younger then me, goes to a community college, delivers pizza for a living and sleeps on his sisters couch. While all of these attributes are less then the stable maturity I’m bringin’ to the table, I can explain most of them away with his age, and optimistically say that all of these situations can improve with time and the completion of a college degree. However, the “off-and-on girlfriend” he has but forgot to mention to me until she posted a heart on his Facebook wall, coupled with the time he attempted to drunkenly beat up a security guard because he couldn’t make the hostess move faster, and Mr. Bad Boy may have some character flaws that are far less then negotiable.
I spent a lot of time trying to balance the negatives against the butterfly feeling I get when he calls, and his awesome back rubs, and washboard stomach and decided that I’d be smart to take advice from some very knowledgeable musical lyricist who’ve helped me over many an emotional hurdle in life…
Now, I realize that this may not be helpful for your personal experience and it definitely isn’t the advice I would offer to my daughter or any other young girl in this situation but for me, in this instance, I’m choosing to listen to the douchebag extraordinaire Kanye West, and stick by his side ‘cuz “he got that ambition baby. Look in his eyes, this week he moppin’ floors, next week its the fries.” …and I’m going to allow the all knowing Mary J Blige to sing my story loud and proud until i’ve figured out how to overcome my affliction, and exclaim proudly that Me and Mr. Wrong got a good thing going on!
Sing along with me, wont you???