When I spend long stints of time wandering the world by myself, I often find myself reflecting on the nature of human attraction.
Especially as a woman who enjoys spending time alone, getting hit on becomes a regular experience in the great wide yonder.
By the cab driver. By other solo travelers seeking companionship. By waiters. By more cab drivers. By old men. By young men.
I am under no illusion that it’s because I am special or irresistible by any means. It just happens. Especially if you are even a little bit warm and friendly.
There is a certain element of the Tinder mentality that is prevalent in the world, where men specifically seem to attempt connection with as many women as possible, hoping that one will bite on the proffered flirtation.
I don’t take it personally.
Someday when I am a crone, if I feel invisible to men, I may miss it. (Maybe). But for now, it feels more like a mosquito type of situation. Mildly annoying.
I have taken to immediately referencing my imaginary husband whenever i meet a man who puts out unwelcome vibes. The circumstance does, however, make me wonder about this human dance of attraction, and how I am wired differently than this… (and i know i am not alone)
I am attracted to the beauty of people’s hearts. To their souls.
I am attracted to people’s intellects.
I am attracted to poetic sensibilities, (to paint with beautiful words is to make me breathless)
I am attracted to vibrational resonance and effortless comradery, which has a life of its own, and carries an electrical jolt of knowingness
I am attracted to lifestyle mutuality and value system compatibility
I am attracted to quirkiness, authenticity and hilarious weirdness.
I am attracted to the warmth of a sensitive heart
I am attracted to the way someone connects with the invisible realm
If anything, I feel a special fondness for people who possess less than “perfect” physical forms. People who exhibit signs of aging. People with knobby noses, or hair growing out of their ears.
I am attracted to the way someone takes the time to linger and pet a cat, or the sensitivity with which they listen deeply to music. I am attracted to people who are passionate about life.
I am attracted to men of soulful integrity, loyalty, transparency, and parallel value systems that feel like home. I am drawn to people who have cultivated their deeper character traits perhaps because they haven’t been able to rely so heavily on their appearance.
I want to love and be loved until my last breath, so I don’t cling to the illusions of youth or physical “perfection” as a point of attraction.
A friend of mine was once reflecting on how insecure he felt in the dating pool, because of his balding head. I was shocked. I hadn’t even noticed.
I told him with all sincerity that i often find myself drawn to men who have salt and pepper hair, or lined faces, or balding heads. It shows the depth of a life well lived. It shows their humanity. It makes them softer and more vulnerable than some Adonis with chiseled 6 pack abs (who is superficially beautiful, and knows it).
Of course, it’s important to me to be with someone who takes good care of their body temple, because health is precious and important, and I take care of mine – but age and superficial appearance have nothing to do with it
In my bones there lives the soul of a young girl. But there also exists an old woman, living in another time and space. She thinks my withered grey 90 year old husband is the sexiest man in the world, and is the only man she has eyes for. I will be that woman someday. I am that woman now. Married to a mate i haven’t yet met. But my devotion is just as strong as if he were here beside me.
My eyesight has been blurry since i was maybe 4 years old (my eyeballs clock in at -12, and -13, respectively) …. Without my contacts, everything I see is just swaths of color, light and pixellated geometry, until it gets within a few inches of my face.
Maybe because of this, I think there has always been something about the way I look at the world where i don’t focus on people’s surfaces. I look through people, and feel deeply Into them instead.
Often the quirkier, or weirder looking someone is, the more fondness i feel for them. The more beautiful they are to me. The safer I feel with them. The more i feel comfortable to be my quirky weirdo self.
I like if people have a non symmetrical face. Or a slightly crossed eye. Or a double chin. I like it a lot.
It endears them to me when they don’t look coiffed and cut out of a magazine. Everyone is beautiful in their own unique way, and that is what makes them so perfect and attractive to me. That, and most of all, their inner beauty.
My partners who have been strikingly traditionally handsome have often seemed to stay in the shallower end of the pool in relation to our souls’ connection … as if our ability to go deep was limited by their self consciousness about their physical beauty.
I was in a relationship once with a man who had had a foldout photoshoot spread in Vogue magazine… but despite him being a good human, i could never feel truly, deeply attracted to him, because he was so self aware of the impact he had on women.
That subtle arrogance negated the “attractiveness” of his physical traits, and I just couldn’t ever feel a full, genuine magnetism.
But it is with the men who were perhaps not as traditionally handsome in appearance, that I felt most comfortable being myself. With those who exposed deeper more sensitive aspects of themselves. With those who did the work. They were the ones who, to me, were the most breathtakingly gorgeous men.
I couldn’t even see other men when I was with them, because the adoration i felt was so deep and multifaceted.
Don’t get me wrong – I am not an ascetic … I am artist, and I enjoy sculpting and cultivating my appearance as much as any artistically inclined human …, but I know it is fleeting and I don’t orient towards it as a primary point of value for my worth as a human.
I spend roughly 2 minutes a day on my appearance, and the rest is spent living fully. Creating. Exploring. If anything I often think I’m a weird looking little bird, with my broken nose and blind-as-a-bat eyeballs that often glaze over.
I like being fully animated and laughing my ass off without feeling self conscious about what contorted shape my face squinches up into. I like making faces and laughing at my violin double chin, or at how totally troll-ish i look sometimes. I don’t always love having these bursts of spontaneous expression captured on camera, of course. But I love the freedom to be weird, and un-self conscious.
Personal expressions of Appearance are just another art form. Meant to be enjoyed and expressed creatively, but not taken as our sense of Self Worth or Identity. It fluxes. It is fickle.
That said, of course I also enjoy the art of inhabiting my form, adorning it and clothing it in things that please my aesthetic sensibilities. But i don’t think it is who i am. I enjoy fashion and clothing, and wearing glamorous dresses. But I’m just as happy digging in the mud covered in dirt
It’s all a game in the illusion of life, and I want a partner who doesn’t take it all too seriously either. I want someone who thinks I am beautiful because of my heart and my devotion, not because I know how to apply contour makeup or do my nails, or fit into society’s current standards in order to project an acceptable illusion of attractiveness in the game of life.
I want someone who thinks I am beautiful even when I am hunched over the porcelain god, retching with food poisoning. Or swollen from a horrible sunburn.
If someone likes me for superficial reasons they won’t be able to receive what I have to offer. I want someone who sees through the surface and down to the depths of my soul.
That is how i want to love and be loved.
I have loved wonderful sensitive men with good hearts and amazing souls, but I don’t have a physical type. Almost every partner i have had has been a totally different appearance. Short. Tall. Younger. Older. Strong. Scrawny. Shy. Gregarious. Balding. Furry.
The only thing that mattered to me was our connection. And what we could learn from each other. And how we engaged soul to soul.
And almost all of them started off as my friend.
They didn’t just hit on me.
This is why, whenever someone hits on me randomly, I can’t take it seriously. It’s not even especially flattering. It’s actually kind of silly to me. They are responding to their projection of a fleeting facet of my surface self. Or they are simply on a quest to fill an arbitrary void
I am far more likely to feel attracted to someone who meets me as a timeless human, as a friend. Who has no agenda. Who meets me from a self contained space and exhibits compatibility. Who makes me feel witnessed and appreciated at my depths. Who is attracted to my mind and my soul.
From that initial setpoint of being met deeply, we can unleash the fullness of our true radiant beauty onto One with Eyes to see.