That dreaded type question

There are some questions that are overused and should really not be asked.

Like ever.

I was having a conversation with someone the other day, and somehow (of course) the topic of my singleness came up. She asked a question I’ve been asked before and one that I always hate: “Well, what’s your type?” Did I mention I hate this question?

I don’t think there should be “a type” that I have to define to try to find someone who’s right for me. First off, I won’t be trying to find anyone. Second, if Mr. Right and I do happen to cross paths at some point, then I will know that he is Mr. Right. I won’t need to consult the “my type” list to make sure he meets all of the qualifications. Do I have standards? Absolutely—and they are non-negotiable. But I don’t like the idea of a “type.”

I love Tie
I need someone who can handle Tie and me

I think trying too much to define exactly what you’re looking for creates this ideal man that may or may not exist. Sure, there are qualities in a guy that I want (e.g. he has to love Jesus and be able to make me laugh), but I would rather meet someone and get to know him rather than someone else trying to help me out by setting me up with someone who is “my type.” You might immediately know someone is all wrong for you right off the bat, but you could still form a nice friendship with that person, if nothing else.

It’s possible that a lot my thoughts on this matter stem from my growing dislike of classifications. As much as I love all of those Buzzfeed quizzes, I’m tired of the labels of introvert and extrovert and whatever that word is for the in-between-vert. Just because you have some introverted tendencies doesn’t mean you are introverted all of the time or need to be labeled as such. We are probably all more in-between-verted that we let ourselves believe. We aren’t crayons, and we weren’t made to be—so we won’t always be coloring in blue or red or pink. We get to mix things up a little and not simply be labeled as one specific color.

And that’s a good thing.

So, to answer homegirl’s question, I don’t have a type. If I meet a guy who is wrong for me, I’ll know that at some point. If he’s right for me, I’ll know that at some point. But I won’t sit around and analyze whether or not he’s my type. I know the qualities I find attractive, and I know the ones I don’t. But I don’t need to list them and box people up. I know I’m very picky about things, but I have this fairy-tale-like idea in my head that if there is someone out there for me, then he’s by no means perfect but is perfect for me. He’s not a type—he’s just who he is. I want someone who will sweep me off my feet and show me what love is and what love does.

The thing is, I don’t want to be a type. I just want to be me. I don’t want to treat others like they are certain types. I just want them to be them. So just be you, and don’t try to be someone’s type.

Besides, there’s Someone who already loves you just as you, and it’s the greatest love you’ll ever know.

And He doesn’t have a type.

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