Ever so often, my mom, my older sister, and myself find ourselves in the midst of hilarious debates about how differently my sister and I approach men and dating. While my sister prefers the guy with the Abercrombie & Fitch abs, the Colgate smile and the Michael Ealy eyes, I’d much rather get to know the guy with substance and an amazing personality, who doesn’t mind dissecting Bible scriptures for deeper meaning or discussing Harlem Renaissance literature with me (even if he has a few less points in the attractive department).
During our most recent debate, my mother dramatically shook her head as I eagerly reached over our table at Red Lobster to show my sister a photo of a former professor, whom I’d been totally enamored with since our first day of classes. My sister’s eyes grew wide as she rested them on the photo depicting a 30-something male with 1960’s-thick Coke bottle glasses and an afro unruly enough to make Questlove wince.
“My grandkids are doomed,” my mother joked.
“Yeah Jaz, we’re going to have to approve anybody you date from this day forward,” my sister added.
I went into my usual spiel about being way more interested in a guy’s personality and the way that he treats me than what he looks like physically (and they of course yawned as usual). This isn’t to say that I’m not interested in the outward appearance at all, because I am. It just means that the little details that define who a man is are more important than the physical attributes that define what he looks like.
“You know Jaz, dating guys that look like Mookie from Do The Right Thing doesn’t guarantee that your heart won’t get broken,” my mother inerjected in a half-serious, half-joking tone.
“That’s right sister, the ugly ones act up too,” my sister added.
I knew where they were going with this one. You see, there was a time in my life where I wasn’t always like this. Physical appearance played at least 70 percent of the part in my choices when it came to the guys that I dated. I always had to date the bad boy or the fly boy or the class clown. You know, the guy who was the center of attention, because more likely than not, he was exciting and came with tons of drama. I lived for drama, especially in my relationships. I mean, I was not content unless my relationship could easily transfer into a ’90s R&B jam or some soap opera. Then, one day, I got my heart broken for real and all of that changed. I found myself in the middle of a real life soap opera and I didn’t like it one bit. There were women calling my phone. I was stumbling across tasteless photos of scantily clad and sometimes even nude women. Then of course, there was my panic-filled trip to my gynecologist for random STD testing because my imagination had convinced me that my philandering man had passed some incurable disease on to me. Thankfully, I recognized the dysfunction and took note of all of the unnecessary drama I was bringing on myself.
Not long after this revelation, I took a rather long dating hiatus, during which I focused on my wants, needs, goals, things I want and need to change about myself, and even the qualities that I desire in a potential mate. In a nutshell, my preferences in men changed drastically. I certainly don’t believe that I’m taking a safer route by dating the nice guy, it’s just that my priorities have shifted and dating an Adonis is no longer at the top of my list. Although I can understand both sides of this debate, hopefully the women in my life will eventually understand that my shift in attitude is not some strange attempt to guard my heart. I’ve simply grown up, and what’s on the outside isn’t as important to me anymore as what’s on the inside.
Would you say that dating the nice guy is a form of settling out of fear?
Follow Jazmine on Twitter @jazminedenise.
