Falling for Your “Type”

Get it? Fall for your type? tee hee. But seriously. Check out this video:

How many of y’all (yes I’m from the south) have heard this song? I’m not gonna lie–I dig it. I downloaded it on my phone, and I play it on repeat.

But this morning I was thinking about the lyrics. “I swear I always fall for your type.” I don’t exactly think it was written with sweet intent. Jamie Foxx and Drake are kind of saying “You fool me every time girl.”

And I was thinking…I don’t think it would be a good thing to have a song like this dedicated to me (because in my fantasy world, guys are just running around dedicating songs to me). I wouldn’t want to be anybody’s “type,” for one thing–look at me as an individual, if you please. Plus, who wants to be the “type” that some dude is wrong about every time? That’s not exactly a good thing.

And I was musing about it this morning. The thought of “types.” I want to think I’m not a “type,” and that I don’t have a “type.” But come one. This is how we categorize the world (oops–my M.A. program is showing. Let me cover that up). Everyone is a “type.”

Yesterday was Valentine’s day, and I’m a single woman. And I kind of waffle–sometimes I’m a bitter single woman, but I was determined not to be yesterday. I made a genuine effort to keep my spirits up by showing myself the love that I would feel bitter about not getting from another (see: spa day, cooking and cocktails!), and I also was able to experience some genuine happiness through my interactions with three different “types” of awesome guy: the Grad Student, the Art Nerd and the World Traveler.

Now I just named those labels, but I’m pretty sure you already have a mental picture of these three guys. And I’m not going to dispute that mental picture for now because I’m doing a thing here. Go with it.

I often fall into the trap of categorizing all males as Assholes. And yes, that is a “type.” I interacted with one of those yesterday. But that’s not the only “type.”

As I was driving to work this morning, sipping my tea and trying not to swerve, I thought about the different “types” of guys in my life: The Asshole, the Grad Student, the Entrepreneur, the Art Nerd, the Co-Dependent, etc., etc., etc. and I thought…I do know some really great guys. Really awesome, genuinely cool guys who I appreciate, who I learn from, who I laugh with, who I am fairly certain aren’t out to get my butt.

Yesterday I didn’t get any flowers or candy. No one told me they loved me (romantically) or arranged for me to be picked up outside of work in a stretch limo (that happened for one of my coworkers! I was stuntin’–trying to stand beside it in hopes someone I knew would walk by and see me and associate me with it without me having to lie about it). But I still had a great day. I got to hang out and catch up with the World Traveler, a guy who I hadn’t seen in a year (due to his world traveling), and I was really touched because the Art Nerd sent me a book that he thought I would like (and was totally right about: Stephen King On Writing).

And it occurred to me that whatever you focus on is what grows in life. I have spent so much time in my life FOCUSING on the Asshole “type” that I end up feeling like he’s the only “type” that exists. Of course he exists, but he is one of many. Maybe if I switched focus; concentrated on the things that led to experiences like opening a package to find a book that only a dude who was paying attention would know to send, or completely geeking out off of reevaluating Disney movies in terms of critical theory perspectives (homosexual undertones in the Jungle Book, anyone?), I would find the Asshole type’s presence shrinking in my mind and life.

Just a thought.


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2 responses to “Falling for Your “Type”

  1. To quote my 12-year-old nephew for when he first heard a rap (Lil Wayne) song:

    “I’m 12 and what is this?”

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