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My husband isn’t ugly but he’s no Brad Pitt either. When I first laid eyes on him back on a cool summer evening in 2014, I was rather disappointed that this man everybody was talking about was not as handsome as I had imagined. In fact, I didn’t find him attractive at all! You see, my relatives from Australia who invited him to the Philippines built a hype around him, making him sound like the coolest guy ever. Now that I think about it, they never did say he was handsome. For some reason, I just presumed he was. Why else would they be so excited for us to meet him?
Yet despite his thinning hair, ears sticking out, crooked teeth, and strangely formed nose (think the male version of Barbara Streisand’s nose), I found myself slowly falling for this Aussie. It was hard not to—he was funny, clever, outgoing, and quite smart. We could talk about anything, and strangely we could laugh about anything. I would poke fun at his ears and he would say, “Chicks dig my muscular ears!” Soon enough I started seeing him for who he is, not just for his physical appearance. And soon enough, I started noticing his childlike grin, his cute dimples that soften his masculine gaze, and how he looked spectacular in a formal attire. My heart would skip a beat every time he looked at me.
We got married on the eighth of October last year and we are nearing our first year as a couple. We still make each other laugh and I still can’t believe my luck. He’s still not my type especially with his worsening bald spot at a young age, but I’ve learned to love his unflattering parts. “Learned to love” may not sound romantic but it’s usually the kind of love that doesn’t change with time. On second thought, maybe it does. The balder he gets the more I adore him and his ever-growing confidence. I guess that’s one of many things I love about him: his self-acceptance and self-worth. Growing up, he was teased for his Dumbo ears but he focused on his strengths, invested in himself, and turned his insecurities into motivations. For that, I don’t only love him, I also look up to him.
I could’ve married an eye-candy, but instead, I married a soul food, and that has made all the difference. The problem with marrying our type is that we tend to forget what’s really important in a relationship. Beauty fades, and like candy, it doesn’t really satisfy our need for companionship. In the end, we want something more than staring at a beautiful face. We want to be loved, flaws and all, with someone who feels the same way about themselves. We want to spend the rest of our lives with someone who loves us even when we fail, gain a few pounds, or fart every five minutes. Yet, it’s the same person who motivates us to workout, to look presentable, to buy a perfume, to succeed in life.
Being loved at our worst motivates us to be best version of ourselves. When I think about it, I was probably the worst version of myself when I met my husband. I’m probably not his type either. Do I want to know? Maybe not. What I know for sure is that relationship is not about finding someone who fits our type. It’s about being with someone who helps us fit into the type of person we aspire to be.
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Photo credit: Pixabay