What is it with Bad Boys Anyway?

What is it with the bad boys anyways?  I remember dating a guy for four years in highschool on and off.  He didn’t have a car, couldn’t keep a job, and while he was cute, he was built small and thinner than me.  He was funny, but didn’t always treat me great.  He had a huge chip on his shoulder…and was insecure, so I’m pretty sure he didn’t know how to deal with me.  I was a popular, charismatic girl who wanted to be nice and believe in everyone.  I always thought I could fix what was broken, and that included people.  I tried to see the good in everyone.

Cheating was one of the final straws (with a crackhead girl who had crabs, and then later with a younger girl who I ended up being friends with), and while I saw him a few more times, I eventually cut all ties.  The crazy thing was; I still had this underlying interest. What did I see in him?  I knew he’d never go anywhere amazingly advanced in life.  It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart, he was actually quite brilliant.  If that guy ever gets on jeopardy, he could make some serious money.  It’s that he isn’t driven or committed.  My dad got him a job one time, and he showed up like three times before getting fired for no-showing.  He didn’t have a car, so I had to drive him around everywhere. …he didn’t have money, so he never took me out.  Looking back now, I think, what on earth did I see in him?

I believe as women we all have this maternal need to fix things including people.  I would see a nerd from a mile away and latch on immediately to try and make them feel included and special.  I wanted to show the girls how to do their hair, how to dress….I remember working my behind off from the time I was 16 years old and even buying that jerk boyfriend clothes so he could look cool.  I wanted everyone to feel special.  I saw the good in him, and therefore, wanted him to expand on that and everyone else to see it too.  Even if we didn’t end up together, I wanted him to excel. I pushed him to go to class and even get better grades.  When he signed up for football, I was pissed when he dropped out.  I tried to talk him into getting his GED when he dropped out of highschool.  Finally, I figured out there was no hope…and maybe that’s when I truly let go of him.

It was by sheer luck and God that I found Shannon.  We had our own hurdles to deal with as he’d also dated a girl who cheated, so there was a mutual lack of trust in the beginning and we fought all the time.  However, Shannon is ultimately one of the best men I’ve ever met.  He cares deeply for me and treats me like I’m the most amazing woman on earth.  Do we fight now?  Sure, but rarely…and he adores me and takes care of me in ways only most women dream their husband would. 

The thing to note here is; where did I go right?  How did I end up with such a great guy after having so many losers? Trust me—the one I mentioned above is only one of the many.  Why did I finally let go of the need to take care of someone and finally let someone take care of me?  Do we truly learn our lesson?  I don’t think so, because I still know plenty of women who are dating and going through jerks as fast as toilet paper.  One breaks their heart, and they are on to the next one.  Is it luck like I mentioned? I mean, it’s not easy to find a nice guy; there aren’t a lot out there.

The scary thing is-how does this fit in with our daughters? I’ve noticed at school how my little girl ignores the nice, clean-cut boys and chases after the biker (okay, as biker as a five-year-old can be), heartbreaker types.  I see a trend here…and it scares me quite frankly.  She said recently she was going to marry one…he showed up to preschool graduation with his hair sticking straight up and a mean look like he might clobber someone if they looked at him wrong.  And, the other day, when we were watching the movie Thor  together,  she got all smiley when Thor’s brother (he’s the bad guy in case you haven’t seen it) came on and said, “I like him mom.”

 I asked her why.  “Callie, Thor is much cuter!  Plus, he’s the hero!”

“Mom, sometimes I just like the bad guys.”  She said, staring at the TV adoringly.

Oh Lord.  I wonder now if maybe it’s all genetic (damn you mom!). I can only hope that she misses at least 85% of the heartache I’ve endured and has 100% more brains about choosing men in general than her mother.  Either way, I look at Shannon, and know there is hope…and truly wonder; what do women see in those bad boys anyway?  ~ Trina