Everybody loves to say they have a “type.”
Tall. Outdoorsy. Has a dog named Luna. Must love hiking, IPA beer, and live music. Or maybe your type is “artsy and broody” — someone who will play you an original song on guitar at 2 a.m. but also forget your birthday.
We act like having a type is a personality trait. Like it makes us special. “I don’t date just anyone, I only date my type.” Translation: I like to keep replaying the same relationship over and over, just with a different haircut.
But here’s the thing: what if your type isn’t a filter that makes dating easier? What if it’s a tiny prison you’ve built for yourself — with walls made of “dealbreakers” and bars welded out of your high school crush’s jawline?
Because let’s be honest: types don’t usually lead to better relationships. They lead to familiar ones. And familiar doesn’t always mean healthy. Familiar just means… familiar. Like that old couch in your parents’ basement that still has a suspicious stain from 2002.
Here’s where I admit something: I don’t have a type.
Not even a preferred gender or sexuality. And I’ve got to say… I’m so glad.
Because honestly? I think it would suck to have a type.
Having a type means you’re doomed to keep auditioning the same character in the same play — the only difference is whether they wear hiking boots or Converse. Meanwhile, you’re turning away all these fascinating people who don’t fit the casting call but could be perfect scene partners in the story of your life.
As a dating coach, I see this constantly. People cling to their “type” like it’s a compass pointing toward The One. But it’s not a compass. It’s a rut. And you’re circling the same block while complaining there are no new neighborhoods to explore.
Here’s what I think:
Your “type” isn’t proof you know yourself. It’s usually proof your nervous system has gotten attached to what’s familiar.
Familiar is cozy. Familiar is easy. Familiar also might be why you keep dating the same unavailable, hot-and-cold, emotionally constipated humans over and over.
The best relationships usually come from people you never thought would be your type at all.
So the next time you catch yourself saying, “They’re just not my type,” stop for a second. Ask: Is this my intuition talking… or my inner prison guard keeping me locked in the same cell I’ve been pacing for years?
Because here’s the truth: your type doesn’t make you unique.
It makes you predictable.
