Why Do Women Love Bad Boys?

Recently while driving in the car into downtown Atlanta, the on-air hosts at a radio local station were talking about “bad boys” and why women seem to lose all self-control when they fall for one.

My husband and I listened to the women calling in about their stories. We listened to the conversations and one stuck out in particular. A girl called in saying that she had plenty of “normal” guys asking her out but they were just too boring. What she really wanted was a bad boy that called her and treated her nicely.

Dale and I just looked at each other and laughed. Was she serious? The whole point of a bad boy is that they are BAD! They don’t call. They don’t bring flowers. They don’t take you to nice restaurants. They don’t treat you with respect. They don’t want you to find out about their other girlfriends. They are BAD.

I must admit, I was one of those delusional girls that used to be attracted to the bad boy persona. Why? I think most women who are involved in these types of relationships either a) think they can change him, b) think that he will see that they are more special than the other girls he’s dated, or c) they’re delusional. In my case it was all three…I was wrong about (a) and (b) but I was totally on target with (c).

I asked Dale what he thought. He pondered the question for a moment and said “I think girls want guys that ultimately treat them bad because they love the drama and they fear that being with a nice guy will bore them to death.”

Right on, Mister.

But I do think that age has something to do with it too. The girl that called in was 22 years old. When I was 22 years old, I still thought that a gourmet dinner out was to be found at Macaroni Grill and that wine in a box was totally acceptable.

Think of it this way. Dating a bad boy is equal to having a fantastic night out, where you’re doing tons of tequila shots and dancing and laughing and having the time of your life. But your date doesn’t have any money so you put the whole bar bill on your credit card. And then the next day you wake up and you’re so hung over that you don’t think you’ll feel better until you throw up a kidney. That’s how a bad boy can make you feel.

Seriously girls! Didn’t you read “Shades of Grey??” (Spoiler alert!) Anastasia Steele fell for Christian Grey because he was handsome and debonair, but ultimately found out he was the baddest boy of all…and came to her senses by the end of the first book. (Now seeing how she was also into all that kinky whackery, she ultimately went back to him but she had a lot of bad boy drama in her life from that point on.)

“Do you think you’ll ever wish you had a bad boy instead of a computer programmer?” my cute husband asked me. “Because I can totally be bad.”

I giggled.

I looked over at my sweet husband and I tried to picture Dale being a bad boy, but all I could see was Darth Vader wearing an argyle sweater vest and carrying around a Mac instead of a light saber. It doesn’t work. Which is a good thing; because I love the fact that he brings me flowers and takes me to the best restaurants. I love that he doesn’t order the cheapest wine on the menu. I love that he prefers Sperry’s to black leather boots and an SUV over a Harley. I love that I don’t have to worry about where he’s been or if he’s going to call.

Now don’t get me wrong. He’s definitely not a pushover either. He lets me whine and complain about stuff but he definitely lets me know when I’ve reached my daily limit. He occasionally wears all black. He has a leather jacket. He rides a mountain bike instead of a motorcycle. And although he doesn’t carry around a light saber, I know he will always be there to protect me and keep me safe.

Plus he’s quite simply a good man….a really, really good man.

So my advice to that 22 year old girl from the radio station? Take note…reconsider dating a nice guy. They’re actually pretty awesome!

You may think you’ve found your own personal Christian Grey by dating a bad boy, but in the end, your heart will just end up more tangled up and spanked than Anastasia Steele’s backside.