Last weekend I met an old friend (name and details changed). Mary is a social worker, a few years older than me, smart and witty, quiet and friendly, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. Like me, she is no longer young. We worked together in an inner-city hospital decades ago and I hadn’t seen her for years.
Mary and her husband recently split up and she hasn’t dated since. She’s a quiet woman and as the years go by, it gets harder to meet new people. I asked her, “Would you consider a dating app? I’ve heard of apps for older people that you could try.”
In no time, Mary pulled out her phone and began onboarding the website, reading the questions out loud to me. “How would you react if your date asked you to change your behavior?” “What does your ideal first date look like?” “What picture do you like best?” The questions were extensive, but she filled out the application completely and was there.
A few hours later, Mary checked the app. “I have seven answers!” She eagerly began to look through the candidates. Their photos were lined up, one smiling older man next to the other.
“NO.”
“Not him.”
“No way.” Mary scrolled further.
I stared at her. “But you haven’t read their profiles. You have no idea what they’re like.”
“This one looks nice,” she pointed to a prettier face. “And this one is OK.”
“Mary, what about what she wrote“They didn’t pay attention to whether they were educated or close to their family like you.” She didn’t seem to be listening to me.
Over the course of the evening, my friend received several more replies from interested men. Each time, the photo was the deciding factor in their interest.
At the end of the evening I tried again: “Please look at what the men have written to you. See what kind of people they are. That is much more important.” Mary smiled at me, but didn’t seem to hear me.
Finally, I sighed, ready to reveal my deepest vulnerability. “Mary, you know my story. I was burned so badly as a child. I’m still deeply scarred.”
She nodded sympathetically and I continued, “If I were on a dating app, men would just swipe past my face. They would see my scars and keep scrolling. But if they read what I write, they might think I’m well educated, ethical, funny, and successful. But they wouldn’t see any of that in my photo. They would have to read what I wrote to know I’m a good catch. Even you, Mary, know that. You just want to be judged The alone?” My fingers drew a box in the air and framed her sweet, wrinkled and no longer youthful face.
Mary looked thoughtful. “No, I wouldn’t,” she answered more cautiously.
“Right. Promise me you won’t judge these potential dates based on just one photo.”
***
What makes a good relationship? Are we happily married because our husbands have cute faces?
Not at all. I am a psychologist and I hear many sad stories from clients who feel isolated, neglected and betrayed. “We have nothing in common,” complains one client. Another confesses: “I think he’s lying to me.” Another tells of the hateful words that were hurled at her during the arguments.
You know what NEVER happens? My clients never say, “Oh, but it doesn’t matter because he’s so good looking.” In the long run, a partner’s looks matter less and less and the partner’s character becomes the only story. The joy of having an attractive face is an asset that is guaranteed to disappear quickly. Beauty always fades, quickly and irrevocably. The character can grow and flourish.
How important are looks when dating? And how important should they be? Attraction is the glue of romantic relationships and warms the air when the beloved walks into the room. Falling in love is like a wonderful drug that sends our hearts over Niagara Falls and keeps us fixated on our crush every hour of the day. Attraction is necessary, exciting and crucial.
Here’s the thing: attraction is relative. I have deeply loved men who were tall and slim, with high cheekbones and striking blue eyes. But the first man I truly loved had none of those things. He was exactly an inch taller than me, and I’m 5’3. He was a bit chubby and had questionable hygiene. There was little objectively attractive about this man, but I adored him. I adored his mindset, his intensity, his playful humor, and our shared past. I would have done anything for him.
Like any other human, I notice a person’s face and figure as soon as I meet them for the first time. But within seconds, I focus on their eyes, their smile, their handshake, and their energy. Are they friendly? Are they funny? Are they intelligent? Are they sincere? These qualities immediately outweigh an attractive face. Within minutes, an unremarkable person can become irresistible and a handsome but cruel person can become repulsive.
Imagine what the men on Mary’s dating site might have written. The one with the bad haircut could be a retired doctor who works tirelessly for Doctors Without Borders. He could be a Mensa member who enjoys gardening and rescuing dogs. He could have won a Nobel Prize and owned four mansions. He could have been her soul mate.
The man with the handsome face is possibly unemployed, recovering from his fourth divorce, estranged from his children, and living in his elderly mother’s basement.
So why do we swipe left or right as if that’s the only variable? I promise you that an unassuming person can shine like a Greek god when their eyes sparkle with warmth and caring. I also promise you that you won’t care how attractive a man is if he’s manipulating you.
As a burned person, I spend a lot of time around others with visible differences. I have burned friends, friends with eye differences, friends with skin problems, and so on. Generally, these are kind people with depth. Having suffered ourselves, most of us are sensitive to the pain of others and cheerful in the face of adversity. It’s hard to face the world differently, and people who do often develop strong social skills and a sense of humor. Most of us who have suffered ourselves are kindhearted toward the misfortune of others. These qualities: emotional depth, sensitivity, courage, social dexterity, and humor, all of these qualities make one a good life partner. People who lack the lightness of natural beauty often develop far richer qualities, depth and sensitivity that only grow over the decades.
Try swiping right.
