What’s Your Type?

In my teens, I had a definite type of man I found attractive: tall and light-skinned. No others need apply. I used to joke that the only thing a dark-skinned brother could do for me was introduce me to his light-skinned friend.

My first serious boyfriend was 6’4″ and the color of oatmeal, with a Jheri curl shag. I would run screaming if a guy who looked like that approached me now, but back then, I was smitten.

There were a few exceptions. I swooned over the usual white leading male actors – primarily because there were no black ones – and a few white guys in school who reminded me of them. Athletes could be anything – white, black, dark-skinned or light-skinned – because I admired their talents and physiques more than facial appearance.

Still, in my dating life, I was stuck on tall and light-skinned.

And then along came Michael Jordan.

To me, Michael Jordan represented all that was good and right and holy in black men.  I was a Pistons fan, so I only grudgingly acknowledged his basketball talent.  But I was seduced by that smooth brown skin, that bald head, that arrogance, that swagger.  Jordan was the new standard.

But I didn’t just want a man who looked like Michael Jordan.  I wanted Michael Jordan.

Over the years, I met people who knew people who knew Mike.  It was said that if Michael saw a woman in a club he liked, he would walk up to her and say, “Let’s go.”  I knew people who knew where MJ hung out, who offered half-jokingly to hook me up with the possibility of my own “Let’s go” moment.

It took every last shred of dignity and integrity I had not to take them up on those offers.  Because if Michael Jordan, in his prime, had come up to me and said, “Let’s go,” I would have gone.

I told the light-skinned boyfriend he had to allow me one cheat free pass: Jordan, of course.  “If I ever get a chance to have sex with Michael Jordan, I will.  I’m just telling you now so you know.”

He always laughed. He had no idea I was serious.

Fortunately for him, I never got to have sex with Michael Jordan.  Unfortunately for our relationship, the world – or Chicago, Detroit, New York and Boston, at least – are full of tall, dark-skinned brothers who shave their heads.  I decided I was entitled to a number of cheat free passes, which I used liberally on some Jordan substitutes, among others.  We finally ended that relationship a good four years past its expiration date.

For a time, I was as stuck on tall, dark-skinned brothers as I had been on tall, light-skinned ones.  My color-struck family was not amused by the shift.  I even wound up marrying one.

After my divorce, I realized I’d been attracted to many different types of men all along.  I went back in my memory bank and recalled all the crushes that didn’t fit whatever I thought my type was at the time.  Having a type was part of how I had defined myself, but it wasn’t true.

The truth was, I just liked men.  I no longer needed to identify myself as only being attracted to one particular type of man.

It went beyond light versus dark.  I realized not only did I no longer care about shade distinctions in black men, I no longer cared if they were even black.  I found my head swiveling to check out men of all races and ethnicities.  Even my 6’+ height requirement has faded over time.

One of my favorite scenes in the movie “Up in the Air” is the one where Vera Farmiga and George Clooney are discussing the traits of your ideal partner.

Farmiga’s character says, “You know, honestly by the time you’re 34, all the physical requirements just go out the window.”  I have found that to be absolutely true.

So now, I am officially a woman without a type.  I still prefer men, but beyond that, I like it all.  I don’t use terms like “dating the rainbow” because it sounds a bit too fetishistic for my tastes.  I’m not interested in white guys, Asian guys, Indian guys, Dominican guys, etc. because of their race or ethnicity.   I’m interested in meeting interesting people.

What I really require isn’t physical at all.

I require kind, considerate, thoughtful, smart and funny, in a reasonably attractive package. Whatever race/height that comes in, it’s OK.

No others need apply.

What about you? Do you have a type? Have you ever considered dating a man/woman who wasn’t your type?