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It's Okay... I'm Attracted to Jesus too.

Since the dawn of time (literally), we, females, have been attracted to the 'bad boy'. The one who is misunderstood, has daddy issues, and suffers from anger management. He has a heart... but has to keep it hidden from the world. Until he meets that right girl. He is gentle with her, and will buy her as much cake as she wants and NEVER EVER say she's fat. Cause he understands her. And respects her.

We see this formula everywhere. It's in every Nicholas Sparks movie (Nick, heard about the divorce, that's rough), it is the title of every love song (Thanks T. Swift), and it is the fault of EVERY HOOK UP. I MEAN IT. ALL OF THEM. Curse you Tinder, and your concubine, Bumble.

Why do we do this? Why, ladies? Why are we attracted to this bad boy image, with the hope of a good boy attitude tucked underneath. WHY?

The answer came to me when I was writing my previous blog. I wrote in there that I was attracted to Jesus. After a few phone calls from friends and family who thought I needed counseling, the answer dawned on me and it lit up my soul as every miracle should.


You still with me?

He said no to society. He preferred the company of outlaws and the town hooker. Told the king to fuck off. He never knew his dad. And, the best part, he could not have sex because he was emotionally unavailable. Be still my beating heart...

I remember sitting in Sunday School, looking at the picture of Jesus carrying that cross, and listening to my teacher talk about sins. Imagine Jeff Bridges in a pink flowery dress, with a high pitched southern twang, repeatedly telling the students that Jesus was a rebel. Jesus did not obey the rules of man, but the rules of God. Jesus knew there was a bigger plan for him.

I stared at the picture. My teachers words echoing in my mind. I looked up, and I saw them; The two boys I had a crush on at the ripe age of five. The first was Jordan, a sweet boy with glasses who held the door open for everyone for recess. The other was Travis, the bad boy. When it was snack time, Travis took three cookies instead of two. Travis was a rebel.

The two boys stared back. They were waiting for me to decide who I was going to give my last cookie to from Snack Time. I looked down at my picture of Jesus, I am 75% percent sure that he winked at me, it was a sign. I smiled at Travis and gave him my last cookie. He didn't say thank you. He didn't need to, he was a rebel.

There you have it folks. The addiction finally explained. Don't blame those terrible romantic teen novels for misguiding every girl, blame the bible. Drop the mike.

Now I want a fucking cookie.

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