As a little girl, when my parents wanted a little quiet time, instead of popping in a Wee-Sing video they put on Dirty Dancing or Grease. By the time I was eight I could recite every line. And while the abortion references escaped me, the whole good girl can change a bad boy idea did not.

I got older and my favorites gravitated towards Pretty Woman, Cruel Intentions, 10 Things I Hate About You, and as a result, I have suffered a life-long affliction with bad boys.

Not the bad boy in the sense that they served jail time, smacked me around or started bar fights. No, they were bad boys in the sense that they were bad for me, and I stuck around like a barnacle on a humpback trying my best to fix him (you know, just like I learned from Julia, and the rest of the girls..)

It is a classic formula, the one I equate to my relationships: one bad boy with a fatal flaw (every ex I’ve ever had) + one good girl (me) + an undeserving amount of love, support and patience that will change them into the perfect man (the problem) = reality.

Case and point: The cheater, a repeat offender. The boyfriend, did not believe in romance - an obvious problem for a girl who believes the premise of The Notebook is not asking too much. The real bad-boy, with regular altercations with the law and other bad-boys. And, the self-proclaimed “laid back” boyfriend, too laid back for a job or to be counted on. Read More »

When I was 15, I got my first boyfriend. We fell in love, had sex for about three months, and then broke up.

I was devastated. Like many young women, I had internalized the idea that a “good girl” only ever sleeps with one guy. In a society where sex before marriage is no longer taboo, sex in a relationship that doesn’t last forever is still frowned upon.

Perhaps the breakup wouldn’t have been as hard to bear if I had been able to better differentiate between sex and love. It took me many years — and many partners — to learn that sex doesn’t have to equal love in order to be good.

Unfortunately, I did learn that sex needs to be free of emotional baggage in order to be good. On the rebound from my first relationship, I f#cked my way through my grief. Nothing ever satisfied, and each breakup left me feeling even emptier.

I eventually screwed myself, figuratively at least. I got into an emotionally abusive relationship that ended with some tough lessons a year and a half later. Basically, after 18 months of possessiveness and jealous accusations, I slapped my boyfriend, and he promptly turned me in for domestic violence. A moment’s bad decision cost me $650 in fines and restitution, and nine months of therapy. Read More »