I make no secret of the fact that I love the pretty.
It’s true. I do.
And I know that I might give the impression that I have a very narrow definition of what that means.
But that’s not true.
Objectively, I have a body type that I like on a man. For sure. It’s tall, V-shaped, with lean muscle (not bulky), an adonis belt, a six pack, veins that stand out, narrow waist, wide shoulders. Stereotypical, sure. But that’s what turns my head, mostly in the form of gorgeous photos and men I see at the gym doing fabulous strength exercises with slow deliberation and control. I also like angular, interesting faces, high cheek bones and full soft lips.
But that’s not how *attraction* works for me. I have NEVER gone out with a man who looks like that. Not ever.
The factors that make up attraction for me are indescribably complex. I’m not one of those who is EVER going to say ‘the physical doesn’t matter’. That’s a lie. It does. Because I NEED to want, desperately, to see him naked. But that doesn’t mean that I apply that really narrow definition to men as some set of (let’s face it, unattainable) requirements for ‘what my man looks like’.
When I like a man, when he makes me laugh, when we talk in code without even realising, when I find him fascinating and interesting and intriguing… in short, when I am attracted to him, the range of what I find physically appealing expands to accommodate him.
I *will* find him beautiful.
That doesn’t mean objectively ‘a type’, nor does it mean perfect. Far from it. When he is mine, I will find all the parts of him that I want to touch, that I want to look at, that I want to rub up against and kiss and feel and taste… I will find them *all* beautiful. And when I look at him, his beauty will make me weak with longing. And I will feel that over and over again every time my eyes run over what’s mine.
‘The pretty’ is a nebulous concept that is more concrete the more distant a man is from me, and it becomes more malleable, more subjective, more complex as he gets closer to me, as I learn who he is.
If you think you aren’t ‘the pretty’, I’d argue that you are wrong. That’s *exactly* what you are to the person who adores you. Don’t doubt that for one second.