This is What a Spermotoxicosis Guy Taught Me About Beauty
What’s your type?
Beauty is a very subjective thing. How can you tell if the person in front of you is beautiful?
“Look at this pretty boy.” My friend nudged me once. We were navigating the winding streets of Istanbul.
I was confused.
“Which one?”
“He’s my type: tall, brown-haired, with long fingers.”
She made me think: do I have a type?
Last week, I went to one of those ex-pat meetups where you never know anyone. This time in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. Here I met this Thor-like guy whose name I can’t recall.
“We, doctors, call them spermotoxicosis guys.” A girl from the meetup whispered in my ear.
I sprinkled. We were discussing hobbies.
“I like kayaking. Tried it recently in the Philippines.” I said.
“Nice. You like long paddles.” The spermotoxicosis guy reacted.
Oookay… What would be a correct and publicly accepted reaction? Well, doesn’t matter. I learned to respond with jokes. But the fact is — this guy was sure I was into him and his muscles.
I looked at him again — I didn’t find him handsome, although other women probably did.
Not my type?
The spermotoxicosis guys I have met are the same everywhere: Mexico, America, Uzbekistan, you name it. Tall, short, curly, mullet — doesn’t matter. They always think that I’m into them by default. And I’m sick of trying to argue.
As I reflected on this story today, I realised that beauty is not about a type for me. It’s about the emotional connection I build with a person. No matter their sex, occupation or appearance. We either build it or not.
And I don’t care about everything else…
Learn how I fell in love with a city:
