My mom always told me date someone nice.

Nice. Rich. Caring. Successful. Wholesome.

These were some of the characteristics she urged me to look for when it came to choosing a significant other.

She used to tell me that even if he wasn't rich, wasn't studying to become a doctor or wasn't the best looking guy out there—he should at least treat me as if I was the only girl in the world.

After all, what happiness can you retrieve out of a relationship where you aren't respected and treated with kindness?

I've had my fair share of dates with the quintessential "good guy."

The guy who waits at your doorstep by six o'clock sharp, flowers in hand, to take you out for dinner.

The guy who holds your car door open as you step out and help you walk in your heels.

The guy who takes you to fancy Italian restaurants where they pour wine straight from the bottle and grate cheese over your pasta.

The guy who offers you his jacket when it starts getting chilly outside and drives you all the way back home, only to walk you to your front door (and even ring the doorbell while he's at it)

Personally, I liked being treated by a gentleman. I liked being respected, treated as if I was special. I was, in fact, the only girl in the world to these type of guys, but something just didn't match up for me. In all honesty—they just seemed boring to me.

Boring because they didn't give me that special spark which I always craved in a romantic relationship. Boring because they weren't passionate enough or they didn't have this certain unique trait or interesting story which would make them stand out. They would pour their hearts out for me and take me on some of the best dates, but ultimately their efforts didn't seem to hold my attention long enough.

This was around the time when I discovered the phenomenon behind "bad boys."

Guys who treated you like shit, who could care less about your feelings, who already had a list of girls waiting to text at moment's notice. Guys who would supply you with that adrenaline rush and all those passionate feelings that no ordinary guy could give you.

With "bad boys," dating is fun. Dating becomes this constant game of "thrill of the chase" where it feels as if you're dancing and twirling around with him on a live stage to some upbeat music which livens your soul and makes you feel alive.

Candlelit dinners are replaced by midnight shenanigans on the beach.

Classical music concerts are replaced by karaoke nights.

Dates aren't those cute, amazing "I had fun" kind of dates. These types are dates are memorable and one of a kind. They stay with you for as long as you live.

There was this one particular "bad boy" who my mom vehemently warned me about.

He was a few years older, Berkeley educated with a boastful management consulting job living in his own apartment and a flashy car.

It's safe to say, though, that the good qualities ended there.

Why yes, he did treat me like absolute shit, never cared about how I felt about our relationship and had girls constantly hitting up his Snapchat, Instagram, texts, Facetime, Kik, you name it.

But he exerted a type of confidence I wished I had more of.

He made me laugh. He loved talking just as much as I did so there was never a dull moment in our conversations.

He was just perfect in such a bad way which made me fall for him, hard.

Even when my mom would shake her head disapprovingly whenever he would drop by at night to pick me up, I would run off into some crazy adventure with him just for the sake of that adrenaline rush.

Even after my mom commented about how this was the type of guy who would run off with some other girl after getting her pregnant—I would scream at her to mind her own business.

I gave into the temptation, and in the end, I was the only one who got hurt.

We dated for a month (tops!) before things began to turn sour. He thought I should stop being so much of a homebody and go out with him more to meet up with his friends. He had a severe drinking problem, which was beginning to seem less "fun" and more "critical" He thought he didn't have any control of the girls who flocked to him and shouldn't be responsible for his drunk actions around them.

Here's what I learned: my mom was right (or as she claims, she's always right).

Because, you should never, ever try to give your soul to a "bad boy."

Sure, they might be great for an adventure but keep in mind that's why they're a part of your life and why you're a part of theirs.

So if you want to be treated like some girl in a bikini from a Tyga music video, then these "bad boys" are just for you.

But if you want to be treated with true respect, then look elsewhere.