Why do we women so often fall for the wrong guy? Why do we pass up a perfectly nice, kind, diligent man for the bad boy in tight jeans and a leather jacket?
Well, that’s easy – because the bad boy is not only smokin’ hot, he’s unattainable. He’s dangerous. It’s a thrill to be noticed, singled out, wanted by a man like that. After all, he could be with anyone… but for whatever reason, he’s chosen to be with you.
In fiction, of course, the bad boy always falls in love with the heroine. Her love transforms him. He commits to a lasting relationship and decides that maybe (1) busting cows, (2) racing motorbikes, or (3) chasing bail jumpers isn’t as exciting as being with the heroine for the rest of his life.
But in reality? Not so much. Mr. Bad Boy is one way, all the way. He doesn’t return phone calls. He doesn’t call, period. He doesn’t remember your birthday. He doesn’t make you dinner. He expects you to make his dinner.
He’s Mr. Wickham, not Mr. Darcy. And he probably won’t change… at least not anytime soon.
In real life, whether you’ve chosen to be with Mr. Right or Mr. Completely Wrong, conflict is inevitable. In books, tensions often arise from dramatic things like a forced marriage, a wicked stepmother, or a mad wife stashed away in the attic.
But in day-to-day relationships, conflict arises out of much more mundane – but equally devisive – issues. Things like, whose turn is it to do the school run tomorrow? Who left the cap off of the toothpaste/the toilet seat up/the dirty underwear on the floor? Why do I always have to make dinner/phone your parents/vacuum the rugs?
And why the hell can’t you put the remote down and stop changing the bloody channel??
Those little things can wear a relationship down just as surely as the presence of a madwoman in the attic, believe me. But like the heroine of our favorite books, It’s how we choose to react to those things that determines the end of the story.
A sense of humor can go a long way to defusing tension; so can empathy. I tell myself that perhaps Mr. Oliver has abandoned his socks and boxers in a pile on the hallway floor because he worked really hard and he’s exhausted. Maybe he honestly doesn’t realize that leaving the cap off the toothpaste annoys me. Maybe he feels guilty that he doesn’t call his mum often enough, so he hands me the phone every time.
But as for the constant channel changing? There’s no excuse for that, sorry.
That’s definitely grounds for divorce.
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