The Martlet

A friend of mine once told me she would never date a blond guy. She said she wouldn’t even consider it.

I’d never even thought about my hair colour before. There are tonnes of other things to feel insecure about — my weight, my complexion, my clothes — but hair colour? Really? She’d opened up an entirely new potential reason for rejection.

I told her she was crazy.

The idea of “type” seems to be a commonly accepted reality for the majority of people our age. It’s the go-to excuse for turning someone down. (“Oh, he/she’s just not my type.”) It’s like a checklist you can carry around to the bar or to parties. You survey a crowd of potential lovers looking for someone with a particular career, a certain haircut, a specific build.

But who came up with this idea? And do we really believe that we can only be interested in one type of person?

Just to acknowledge my hypocrisy for a moment here, I have to admit that I prefer brunettes. They have a different, darker energy. I have a number of flags I look for. I like dreadlocks, piercings and tattoos, and I like girls who look like they could take me in a fight. If a girl can pull off a shaved head, that’s a bonus.

But I still think having a type is stupid — and here’s why.

For years, I insisted that my only girlfriend criteria was height. She simply had to be shorter than me. I didn’t care about anything else in her appearance, but she had to fit nicely under my arm.

But then I met Cat.

Cat is about two inches taller than me, and she regularly uses it to her advantage. She’ll stand on her tippy toes just to annoy me. She’ll come up behind me and rest her chin on top of my head. She’ll grin mischievously as she leans down slightly to kiss me. I am a big guy and I take up a lot of space. But when I’m in a room with Cat, I often feel like I’m competing against her for people’s attention. Not to mention that she’s a blond, too.

Our pseudo-relationship may not be ideal, but I do know one thing: if I had decided early on that I couldn’t date her because of an absurd rule I’d invented, I would have made a huge mistake. I would have missed out on some of the most fulfilling human experiences of my life.

So next time you’re about to rule someone out for failing to meet some arbitrary criteria, give them a second look.

Maybe spend a couple minutes getting to know them. It could be worth your while.