This Christmas/New Year season I had two glorious weeks of enforced leave. To begin with I was rather unhappy about having to take annual leave that I didn’t actually have (thanks to a side trip to Paris after a recent business trip- more on that later…). However, I’ll concede that by the time December 21 rolled around I was more than ready to shut my laptop, switch off my blackberry and just enjoy some sleep, sun and surf, and catch up on some iconic television viewing…SATC.
That’s right people, this cyber shopping, shoe loving, 30-er-something, single (well…until recently anyway) woman was never a Sex lover. I don’t know how it slipped me by really, but perhaps it had something to do with sharing a house with 3 men when this program was being aired, so, needless to say I was never going to win the toss of SATC over “The Footy Show” [eyeroll].
Today, after a lazy Sunday afternoon on the couch, I devoured the second half of season 4 and, to quote the famed CB, “It got me thinking…”
Why it always the case that in fiction – the Bad Boys are romanticised to the hilt?
Seriously…that’s fucked up.
Don’t you think?
Ok, so I realise: It’s fiction. It’s a fantasy, and therefore why would one want to reflect the real world in a fantasy…I get that. But my real query is, why would we find that type of fantasy even remotely desirable in the first place? Are women just complete masochists?
I myself have not been immune to the Bad Boy scenario. I have found myself involved with your stereotypical Bad Boy a number of times before, and I too, have turned down a perfectly good offer (OK – not in the form of a 2+ carat asscher cut diamond attached to a marriage proposal -but certainly a very generous offer of ‘lets move in together and have a baby’) from the Aidan of my past.
I tell ya, season 4 really ticked me off. From an outsider looking in, I spent the afternoon judging the Carrie character for her decision to let the Good Guy walk away (breaking both his heart, and hers, in the process), but then I realised…who am I to judge? I did exactly the same thing…and for the same reasons: I was still hung up on the Bad Boy, I did love the Good Guy, but I just couldn’t commit myself to it, at that time. Something was just not allowing me to make that next step.
I regretted it a year later of course, and then two years later when the news of his new love rolled in, I regretted it all over again…but only briefly. Somewhere through the haze of hurt I found confidence in my ability to make the right choices for me, and allow myself to believe that plenty of good things were yet to come in my future, and still are. I realised I was free of the Bad Boy, and happy for the Good Guy…and then I met… the New Guy. And he’s really nothing like either of them. He’s still infuriating and sometimes evasive, like a Bad Boy, but he’s honest and open and tear-jerkginly gentle, like the Good Guy. Which of course has rendered me…completely flummoxed. This New Guy just doesn’t compute. I have been dropped back into Wonderland expecting my head to be chopped off any second by some crazy homicidal card.
But so far, I’ve managed to keep my cool. Two months in we have started to have some big conversations about past loves, heartbreak…and what we each want for our futures.
What do I want?
I’m not sure really. Do I have to know???
I trust that I am capable of recognising it when I feel it because in the past whenever I have attempted to shove my idea of perfection into a box and tie it up with a bow, it inevitably self-destructs like a billion dollar sport’s car in a Mission Impossible movie: with maximum destruction.
And so, perhaps that is my next step on my journey: to avoid labeling everything. Perhaps there really aren’t any Bad Boys- only boys that are bad for me.