The Relationship Paradox of the Little Bit Wicked

I recently finished reading “ A Little Bit Wicked: Life, Love and Faith in Stages”, the Kristin Chenoweth memoir. I honestly picked it up because I wanted something fluffy and light to pass a weekend stranded indoors due to the Midwestern Snowmageddon of 2010, but I was surprised by how much I could relate to the content. In addition to being a petite sprite with a fantastic rack (ok, only half of that is relatable), she is a dyed-in-the-wool Christian who perpetually struggles with the duplicity of her nature especially in terms of love. She loves her some Jesus, but can’t escape the draw of the witty intellectual whom she has aptly dubbed Mr. If Loving You Is Wrong I Don’t Want To Be Right.

I know many women face this issue of being attracted to the wrong guy, but in my attempts to lead a life befitting of my belief system I find myself in a more twisted quagmire than most. I have a friend whose faith and oddly subversive bent mirror my own and she encounters the same issues.  For those who walk that straight and narrow with limited curiosity for what lies outside the path before them, settling down with the straight-laced Christian guy and making oodles of straight-laced Christian babies is so natural that it’s easy to slip into that role and fall for the perfectly nice guy. And those unrestrained by conventional religious moral codes can embrace that somewhat dark side of their psyche and fall unabashedly in love with Mr. Wrong without being a hypocrite.

I think something went wrong when I was created. Perhaps I was supposed to be twins. One twin destined to be the good little angel who is elated to settle down with a bore as long as he was a good provider with a strong faith. The other a rebellious child who completely rejects what she is supposed to want and gladly embraces the tenebrous elements of her nature. I keep telling myself that this friend and I cannot be the only people on the planet to feel this way and we certainly can’t be an exclusively female species, because that’s just cruel.

My outlook on this situation of mine has been worsened by Christian guys who have misused faith as a way to control me, to the point where it has stifled that part of me that doesn’t quite fit into the 700 Club mold. I’m not saying I’m an uncontrollable, unrepentant hellion, but you’d be surprised what guys with corrupt “Christian” views will construe as sinful.

Even amongst those who have their head on straight and their faith figured out, I struggle to find someone who sparks my interest. I need someone with an edge. I don’t necessarily seek someone who is naughty, but I’d appreciate if he could be and just chose not to act on it. Guys who don’t have a wicked bone in their body are boring and those who have an entirely wicked skeleton are dangerous. I long for someone with a vexatious femur. I know that seems insane to a normal, rational human being. And it probably is; therein lies my dilemma, I may be certifiable.

As much as I battle with the oxymoron that is my proverbial type, I don’t want to change that inconsistency of my nature. That inconsistency isn’t sinful and it’s one of my most unique characteristics. Why would I want to alter something that is so undeniably me, even if it would make the path to Mr. Loving You Is Just the Right Amount of Wrong less treacherous and a heck of a lot shorter?

I don’t mean for this to be a self-indulgent, woe-is-me-I’m-so-misunderstood post, though it certainly sounds that way. Maybe I’m just seeking validation. Am I crazy? Or is what I’m looking for actually in existence somewhere?