I have this idea in mind – came up with it in the shower – for a big, monumental piece that I want to write for you. But instead I’m going to slop it down on the page quick and dirty, right now, because otherwise it won’t get written at all. Here we go.
Why Do (Some) Women Love “Bad Boys”?
It’s all because of social conditioning, as exemplified by romance novels.
The Modus Operandi of Those God Damned Romance Novels and of the Hour-Long Television Dramas, Too
This is what always happens: The woman meets a man who is a total asshole. But a handsome total asshole. He’s rude to her. She’s incensed. Later, she jerks off to the thought of doing it with this asshole. (Except they don’t actually describe it as masturbating. They use a metaphor such as “daydreaming” and “awaking from this daydream with a start, her face heated.”) She comes into contact with this asshole, I mean, jerk, again and again. They exchange witty/heated/rude banter. Eventually, the jerk magically falls in love with this woman and becomes a nice person and they get married.
What You’re Thinking, and What You Should be Thinking [Not All of You – Just the Ones Who Keep Falling for Jerks]
You get inundated with this tripe and then you think, “Ooh…. What seems like rudeness and annoyance is actually unresolved sexual tension that will eventually result in mind-blowing orgasms and then true love.”
What it actually is, is the rudeness of a jerk, resulting in annoyance and then unresolved hatred.
What you really want to do is touch this person in a violent way, or humiliate him or at least say to him, “Jesus – you are such a fucking jerk.”
When do women ever get to do that in the romance novels or the movies of our youth? NEVER. Or, if they do, it’s only the sauciness they exhibit before falling in love – the fire/spunk/spice/women-are-so-beautiful-when-they’re-angry-since-their-anger-is-ineffectual crap before the spectacular 180-degree spin-out into pink and lacy “love”.
Oh, wait – I forgot – there are women who get mad in the pop culture of our past. They’re the psychos, aren’t they? Fatal Attraction. Audition. Swim Fan. (Oh, shoot…. Oh, never mind.)
Is that the only power we have? Fantasy power to subjugate a jerk with cupids and doves? If you convince a jerk to marry you, does he trumpet his metamorphosis to the world, or does he tell his jerk friends, “Yeah, she wanted me all along”?
There Is a Middle Ground
You don’t have to choke your anger down. You can conquer more than just a man’s heart. You don’t have to be ladylike anymore to get what you need in this world – I promise.
And, on the other hand, you don’t have to let your choked-down anger explode into a rampage that will land you in jail.
You can simply say, “Dude, you are such a freaking jerk.”
Okay – you can’t always say that. But you can sure as hell think it. Let yourself feel it. Let the anger flow through you. It’s okay to realize, “This tingly feeling inside me isn’t love – it’s delicious hate. I don’t have to fantasize about angry sex with this guy – it’s okay to fantasize about laughing at his naked form and poking it with a big stick. With nails coming out of it. On fire. YES. My thoughts are my own. Sister Theresa and my mom can’t hear them. I give myself permission.”
And, hey, you can banter with the jerks all you want. Show them that you’re smart and they’re dumb. Use them for your amusement. But don’t let them ruin your life.
“But, Gwen…. Nice guys just don’t do it for me the way the bad boys do!”
Yes, they do, if you ask them to. They do it for you any way you want, because they’re nice. Try it. And quit chasing assholes, okay?
Okay. That’s all.
