I dated away from my type to see what would happen

“Despite my obsession with a particular type of man, it wasn’t working. I was getting sick of my own boring choices in a romantic partner.”

I would argue that everyone has a type or at least a preference. There’s a reason there was such a debate over Jacob versus Edward in the Twilight series. Some of us were turned on by a pale intellectual, while others were captivated by an athletic sweetheart.

Controversially, I’m a Jacob girl. My whole dating history has been filled with me dating men that are typically masculine and that worked in manual labour-based jobs, aka tradies. I was always looking for rough, gruff and a bit sexy. You know, the kind of guy that can fix your flat tyre but probably can’t talk about his feelings.

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I’m not saying all tradies are like this – they aren’t, but I was seeking out the ones that were. It also wasn’t physical; these men could come in all shapes and sizes; it was all about the personality for me. I wanted a man that exhibited outdated and typically masculine traits.

Basically, I wanted to date Luke, the guy that ran the diner in Gilmore Girls or Chuck from Gossip Girl. Unsurprisingly, despite my attraction to this type of man, it wasn’t a match made in heaven. Usually, I’d get annoyed by their lack of interest in culture or their refusal to see how clever Hannah Gadsby was and ultimately, it would come undone.

It was bizarre because I run in artsy circles. So I was constantly meeting interesting men, but I just wasn’t fascinated by them. I wanted to go to a gallery opening and return home to a man fixing something that was broken in my house. In reflection, who knows why?

I suppose partly the pop culture I grew up consuming is to blame. It was a diet of hyper-masculine men starring as the love interests – you know, the kind of men that would throw a punch in your honour. It’s also (probably) because I grew up with a traditionally masculine father and you tend to copy what you know.

But I can also admit that I liked being contrary. I would think ‘Everyone will expect me to date an artsy guy but look at me!’. I also kept these relationships pretty separate from my friend group. These men weren’t really the kinds of people I could share my life with, just my bed.

Despite my obsession with a particular type of man, it wasn’t working. I was getting sick of my own boring choices in a romantic partner. So, I decided to date against my type and see what would happen. I figured at the very least I might be able to discuss a book with a boyfriend for the first time.

Initially, I found it jarring. I started dating men that had similar interests, ran in similar social circles, that shared the same political opinions as me, and it was different. Honestly, I found it a bit unattractive. I thought the fact we got along so well meant there was no passion. I’d head home after a really nice evening with a charming man and think, ‘Where’s the fire?’. But I stuck with it.

I wasn’t feeling sexually aroused by these types of men, but I was enjoying going on dates with them. With my usual type, while the sex was often great (even mind-blowing), it was the spending time together part that was the problem. They usually thought going to the local pub and getting plastered was a terrific date night idea, while I wanted to try the latest Japanese fusion restaurant. Sure, I’d see glimmers of compatibility in these relationships but it was always followed by drama and arguing.

I kept dating against my type because while I wasn’t finding a soulmate from it, I was actually just having an excellent time. Eventually, I matched with a guy on Hinge. He instantly came across as sweet and bookish, and I quickly learned he loved history and had great general knowledge – the kind of guy you want on your pub trivia team.

We went on a date to a trendy gin bar, and there was this instant chemistry that I had been missing with the other guys. There was no danger of slotting him into the friend zone or finding him lovely but not being interested in him sexually. I wanted to hear his opinions and also have sex with him as much as humanly possible.

He also became someone who could easily hang out with my friends (and someone I could drag to a family wedding). He was sweet, kind, and was excellent at giving people the space to be themselves. He is now my boyfriend and we live together in a rundown terrace with our chihuahua Frank. So what did I learn? Well, I learnt that having a type can really close you off to great people.

I learnt I could find a man I was attracted to both mentally and physically. Most importantly, I realised that while we might all have a preference, we owe it to ourselves to step away from that and find out what actually makes us happy.

For advice on dating outside your type, try this.