People often ask divorced people what their marriage’s breaking point was. As a divorced person, I can admit that sometimes it’s difficult to pinpoint because it can be many little things rather than one catastrophic thing. One poignant memory comes to mind: sitting on the tattered sofa in our quaint London apartment, hashing out our marital issues for the thousandth time.
One of those issues was my then-husband constantly picking apart my appearance. I remember asking him that day why he chose to be with me if I wasn’t his type. He told me it was because the light-skin Instagram model aesthetic he was attracted to was too expensive. He added (paraphrased) that I was average-looking, low-maintenance, and didn’t ask for much. Finally, he said he wouldn’t have to worry about competing with other men like he might have to with his actual type.
After those words left his mouth, I briefly dissociated and asked myself when my self-worth became elusive. I couldn’t understand how I lost my way and ended up in the trenches. I was married to a man who told me he didn’t have the confidence and resources to get the woman of his dreams, so he settled for me. I was the girl who didn’t have enough self-confidence to ask for anything, so she settled for whatever she was given. And what I was being given was landfill trash. That day wasn’t the first time my ex told me I wasn’t his type. A year prior, he told me he could have been with a pretty light-skinned girl, but he chose to be with me.
August 2025 will mark five years post-divorce, and I’ve done endless self-work to ensure I never end up in those pits of hell again. One of the dating non-negotiables I’ve implemented as a preventative measure is refusing to date someone if I’m not their type. I’m a dark-skinned woman with African features; I have a distinct look that doesn’t fit the standard beauty mold. It took me years to undo the damage caused by childhood bullying, body shaming, and colorism.
At 36, I embrace my dark skin, broad nose, under-endowed backside, dark lips, and gap-tooth smile. Now, I must be with someone who truly desires me and appreciates these unconventional things about my beauty. And even if they don’t love all of these things, they’re kind enough not to point them out.
Some people might argue that my choice to only date men who classify me as their type is based on past experiences and signals that I have more healing to do. I might have said they were right if I hadn’t experienced the magic of dating men who see me as their type. It has done wonders for my nervous system and self-confidence to be with men who marvel at my skin, think my face is art in all of its abstract, and love my body as it is. This isn’t to say that my self-confidence is rooted in their validation–but it is to say that healing doesn’t happen in a vacuum.
Surrounding yourself with people who see you, accept you, and love you just as you are can get you where you’re going faster than doing it alone. Some people may also argue that the issue wasn’t me not being my ex’s type, but more so with his need to constantly point it out. And there is some truth there.
I believe a man can be attracted to and date a woman who isn’t his type, and they can have a healthy relationship. However, I only think that’s the case if said man doesn’t feel like he’s settling for you, has good self-esteem, and is genuinely attracted to you. That wasn’t the case with my ex, and I ended up being verbally abused because he didn’t have the self-esteem to pursue the women he wanted.
The lesson here is that even if you date a man when you’re not his type, ensure he’s not choosing you because he feels unworthy and incapable of getting what he truly desires. If not, he’s likely to project those feelings of unworthiness onto you at some point, and you could spend years undoing the damage of that abuse. Also, you are the pink Starburst, the middle slice of bread, and the red Skittle. Not somebody’s second runner-up.
During this phase of my life, I am intentional about going where I’m loved, which applies to dating too. Everyone is entitled to their preferences, but if I’m not yours, please keep it moving.
Don’t come over here disturbing my peace if mahogany queens aren’t your preferred type.
