My male cousin asked me what kind of boy was my type (as if I was going to tell him in front of my mother). But, the truth is, I don’t have a type.
My mom tried to “play” me though, like I didn’t know what a “type” was, but I do. I just don’t have one.
I am attracted to intellectuals, you know, nerds and stuff. I like old-fashioned gentlemen (the ones that hold doors open, pull out your chair, blah blah blah).
But he asked me if I like black guys, white guys, Asian guys, etc. I almost snapped. I feel so strongly about the subject of race and racism, and it kind of made me upset that he asked me that.
I definitely would not discriminate by race. Frankly, I am more about the personality than the looks.
Sounds corny. But the soul is the important thing.
And frankly, a “type” only limits the potential of what you could get from a boyfriend. I see it all the time.
If you know me, appearances mean nothing to me.
Looks are VERY deceiving, and I don’t care how good you look, your personality must be a winner.
Or else, you’re just good-looking.
I finally realized why I hate being called pretty, beautiful, etc. I don’t want to be complimented on my looks, but I want to be complimented on my personality, my heart, my soul, my wisdom, and my care for others.
If you say I have a beautiful soul, that’s fine. But if you say I have a beautiful face, then I am insulted.
Weird, I know. But I am not the average human/teenager, obviously.
And I’m OK with that.