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Where does your "type" come from?
You know your "type." That idealized version of the person you'd want to date, marry or the people that you keep finding yourself attracted to: have you ever explored where that "type" comes from? Have you ever asked yourself, "What cultivated your attraction to that type of person?" Was it a family member you loved so much that you wanted to marry someone just like him or was it a family member that you hated so much that you wanted to marry someone who was nothing like him. Was it a movie you watched where you fell in love with the main character and wanted to find a version of that person in real life? Was it from a song, a book, a friend, a life experience? Where did the attraction to that "type" come from?
I've been tasked with exploring that question myself. In my process of trying to become more whole and healed, I've been confronting thought patterns and trying to unlearn ways of thinking that no longer serve me. You know, trying to "Romans 12:2" my life and be transformed by the renewing of my mind. And one thought pattern I'm trying to unlearn is my "type." And while I used to deny even having a type, my process of discovery has clearly shown me, " Sis, you very much have a type and you know exactly where it comes from."
Over my life, my type has been tall, dark skinned, athletically built, street and book smart, hood but not too hood, a thug with a heart; basically a reformed drug dealer with a soft spot for me. Basically I wanted to marry Midnight, the loveable drug dealer from the book The Coldest Winter Ever by Sister Souljah.
If you've never read the book, you missed one of the moments of baptism into Blackness. It was thee quintessential coming of age story passed around the halls of my junior high school by enthusiastic pre-teens raving daily over the book with squeals of, "GIRL! Did you finish Coldest Winter Ever yet?! Hurry Up!" It follows the life of Winter, the daughter of a major drug kingpin in New York, and all the twists and turns her life takes because of it.
The story is gritty and gripping and it captivated my attention to the end. I wanted to be Winter because her life had so much drama and adventure, but I more so wanted to be with whom Winter wanted to be with, her love interest, Midnight. Midnight was intriguing because while he hustled the block working for Winter's father, he was aloof, mysterious, a devout Muslim, an avid reader and man of principles. And he was not the least bit interested in Winter or her attempts at capturing his attention.
And, unfortunately, that description of this fictional character has been the embodiment of the men I've been attracted to since. I tend to go for the man whose emotions seem to be shrouded in a cloud of mystery, often mistaking his aloof, emotional unavailability for passion, tension and drama.
Now all of that is cute for the storyline of a classic "hood novel," but it's less cute for a healthy, adult romantic relationship life. Especially as a single, Christian woman.
So I've had to check myself. Now that I'm fully aware of my "type" and how I acquired it, I get to do something about it. I get to ask myself, "Why do you really like him," before falling in love with a fictional version of him. I get to think about my thinking. I get to challenge my notions of choosing. Basically, I get to date differently and be freed from the bondage of chasing the mirage that is "Midnight." I get to let go of my "type."
And so I ask you again, "Where does your "type" come from?" Do you know, and if so what are you going to do with that knowledge?