I definitely have a type, I can describe my ideal lover to a tee: he would have large shoulders that would prevent him from being able to comfortably walk through a doorway, arms big enough to serve as a winter coat if needed, legs three times the size of my body and not a single particle of hair on his head. That’s it! Although it’s not an absolute list, I’d be lying if I said that these characteristics did not slightly influence my decision to, well, keep someone around longer than necessary.
While watching a movie recently, I was struck by the resemblance between an actor and an ex of mine. My ex was drop dead gorgeous and practically Mr. Physically Perfect. While we were together, I noticed that I tolerated a lot more compared to those who came before him. His desirability factor pushed me to forgo all mental facilities and attribute logic to the hell I allowed myself to endure. I thought he was my soul mate solely based on the fact that I had already envisioned that he would look that way. My ability to look past the horror was a form of coping mechanism as I waited for our love to flourish. As you can see, I had lost my common sense and dignity was no longer a word I could comprehend.
Was this a “me” phenomenon or were these beautiful creatures spreading worldwide terror? But then I wondered, are we more forgiving to individuals who fit within the parameters of Mr. Perfect, but not necessarily Mr. Right? Beyond the physical, had I been honest with myself, I would have readily admitted that he was far from my type. I like the cultured individuals; the ones who are the brightest kids in the class. They can usually teach me a thing or two and they easily pleasure me with some mental stimulation. With that being said, when a man of a particular physique walks into the room as much as I may enjoy mental foreplay, it’s hard to resist those chiseled arms. Okay so they may look good, but how they had passed my funnel test is beyond me. The lack of selective skills used when choosing these “physically perfect” men leaves me with a lackluster pool of potential mates. I’ve noticed that the ones who do make the cut, you know the Idris Elba look-a-likes, seem to have greater difficulty expressing themselves when compared to the rest of the general population.
Back to that beautifully sculpted boyfriend of mine, it became apparent that he was a very quiet individual. I mean this guy basically mimed his way through life, and yet, there I was thoroughly drawn to his “mystique”. Rather than labelling him as utterly uninteresting, he was “intriguing”. The fact that we barely conversed should have made it glaringly obvious that there was no hope for our budding relationship. Case in point:
I had told him that I had read an article about First Nations cultures and how I was unaware that the name of the sports team he played for had First Nations’ roots. He proceeded with the following response:
Let’s try this again.
“Well, uhm, I found this interesting because I had no idea the number of team names that have First Nations origin.”
“How is this important?”
“You always bring up these random facts, I don’t know why.”
It’s called a CON-VER-SA-TION!
You know when you have the urge to smack someone, but you know that (A) you don’t have the physical strength to cause any sort of permanent damage. And (B) orange has never been your colour and it was not written in the multitude of horoscopes you read that day that jail time was in the near future.
It doesn’t seem like much, but this was ALL THE TIME; even basic exchanges like how are you were exercises of repeat after me. So, our relationship revolved around staring contests while I kept myself pleasantly entertained by conversing with the nearest wall. It was only a matter of time before my happily ever after came crumbling down.
When I think back to that situation, I recall the numerous conversations I’ve had with my girlfriends during which I “happen” to be on the social media profile of a love interest and within minutes, they all have an opinion about his appearance. Funny how a conversation will soon ensue where they retract all of their comments and add “I mean, if you like him then looks shouldn’t matter.” Riiiiiight! That statement necessitates a raised eyebrow.
We’re all aware of the adage that we should not judge a book by its cover, which is quite true, but I do believe that attraction is essential. Attraction does not always comprise appearance; therefore, hoping that a fruitless relationship will suddenly become a Disney spun fairy tale on the basis of looks only was beyond ridiculous on my part. My soul mate may very well not look like anyone I’ve ever imagined in my head. It’s the unexpected that I hope for now, the man who seems to appear out of nowhere that I may never had paid any attention to but still manages to sweep me off my feet. We do ourselves a disservice when we limit ourselves to our top ten lists, but I will say this: if you run into me and I happen to be in the arms of a football player type, just remember, there is such a thing as just fun and games.