If someone asked me my type, the three adjectives that come into my head are blue-eyed, blonde and douchey. If you’ve seen my track record, I pretty much stick to this and if not the blue-eyes and blonde hair, I will definitely stick to the douchey part. There’s just something about these boys that have a certain “je ne sais quoi”, as my middle school French teacher used to say, which pretty much means “they have something special that you just can’t explain that you like about them.” So, that something special was boys being flat out mean to me, I guess?
I would say the past has been sub-par for my “relationships” with these types of boys. They all ended badly, to say the least. I have been called “psycho”, “crazy,” “petty” and my personal favorite “basket case” by these boys that I used to talk to. It seemed to be an ongoing cycle of mean boys that never seemed to end, but I blame myself partially for that, since I never gave the nice boys a chance.
Until one day I did.
At first I was turned off by all the niceness. I wasn’t used to a boy walking into a room and with a goofy grin, waving excitedly and give me a big hug. I wasn’t used to boys making an effort, trying to see you a lot, I was used to being ghosted or having to quietly beg for attention. And even though these boys have seen you naked they can’t summon up the courage to give you a simple smile or a “hello” without “trying to lead you on.”
It was different.
I also wasn’t used to someone who made plans. Making dinner or brunch plans. Or walk around Boston dates. Even the simple let’s walk around and see the cows dates. Or going above and beyond. I’m talking break into your room at 5 AM (with your roommate’s permission) to “force you to go on a run to go watch the sunrise” dates. The spontaneity was a fabulous change of pace.
The most surprising thing was I never have had someone who wasn’t afraid to show how much he liked you in public. The little things like kissing you on the cheek when saying bye or getting noticeably excited when you see them. Someone who sat with you on the bathroom floor after parties holding back your hair after having a little too much to drink, when you weren’t even dating yet. Someone that tucked you into bed after, kissed you on the forehead and then texted you “how you feeling?” in the morning.
The only regret was that I didn’t date him sooner.
It was almost like a romcom, how things turned out. Dating the boy who’s always been there for you, your best friend, your go-to. One day you just look at him a little differently, changing from the friendzone to something more. Someone who you don’t say “I don’t deserve you” to, because they makes you feel like you deserve the whole world.
There’s really no comparison between nice boys and the bad ones. And yes, it is a little bit because the bad ones were that bad. But also it’s because the good ones were just that good.
So next time maybe look past the boys who scream “your type.” Because really, the right guy for you might’ve been standing in front of you the whole time (total romcom moment, am I right?)