When Vivica A. Fox recently summed up her break up with her younger boo Slimm by saying, “I fell in love with a six pack and a smile and look what that’s gotten me,” I literally said, “Girl, I hear you.” Lord knows I have succumbed to the wonders of orthodontics and a 200-crunches-per-night routine many times in the past, and the result of each situation has boiled down to the same lesson: looks aren’t everything when it comes to dating.
It’s true physical attraction is what typically peaks our initial interest, but the dangers of being mesmerized by good genetics are just as tangible as a pack of swoon worthy abs. I didn’t start out putting looks before character; it’s just after a few bad experiences I figured if a man was going to be trifling he might as well be nice on the eyes. Or sometimes the combination of a well-dressed man with impeccable pecs overshadowed the questionable past that I knew was more fact than fiction. Other times I didn’t know a particular guy wasn’t good for me from the start, but once I did it was hard to break away from the sexiness. The problem in all of these situations is that the charm of those good looks tends to fade over time while your list of unfulfilled expectations grows exponentially.
Lips don’t look as juicy when lies are coming out of them; pretty brown eyes aren’t so pretty when they’re wandering all over some other woman’s backside in front of you; and those ripped arms aren’t so appealing when you suspect another woman has been wrapped up in them. I used to practically drool over my ex’s smile—to the point that he would catch me trying to sneak in stares and ask what I was looking at. By the time all was said and done I couldn’t even stand looking at him, much less admire his dimples.