Growing up, I was no different from anyone else. I ran with my friends, played basketball and football, got into fights, and chased after girls—you know, the normal things for a youngster. We thought we were going to live forever, and that death only happened to other people and other families. I was wrong.

As children, we live shallow lives, and if we’re not careful, that shallowness grows with us into adulthood. We all carry our prejudices—about skin tone, beauty, status, or what we think others find attractive. I used to be drawn to light-skinned girls with Coke-bottle shapes and colored eyes because that’s what my friends admired. If I liked someone, my boys would chime in with, “Nah bruh, she not thick enough,” or “She too pretty for you,” or “She average.” And I let that mold my idea of beauty.

Why did I allow them to dictate what I should find beautiful? I’m dark-skinned and, for a while, addicted to the idea of “light.” But as I matured, I realized beauty comes in all shapes, shades, and sizes. I started thinking for myself. The woman I choose is the one perfect for me. Their opinions don’t matter—because their opinions won’t make me happy.

I’ve dated all types of women—Asian, Mexican, Black, White—and here’s what I learned: they’re all the same in one way. Every woman just wants to be loved and treated right.

I’ve seen the “bad chicks” get chased and praised—only for the guys to find out they were cheaters, liars, manipulators, or just downright toxic. On the flip side, I’ve seen women with deep insecurities tear others down for their looks, but crumble when the mirror is turned on them. I’ve met “gorgeous” women with poor hygiene and bad attitudes, and “average” women who were humble, well-kept, driven, and inspiring.

No one is better than the next person. Think about it. Whether you marry someone others call “ugly,” “fat,” “crazy,” or “broke”—if you’re happy and equally yoked, what business is it of anyone else’s?

In 100 years, whether you married someone society approved of or not—what will it matter? Exactly. It won’t. So why should it matter now?

It’s simple. You might like tomatoes. I might like plums. But too many people miss out on their soulmate because of how society defines beauty. Best believe—I’ve learned: beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I remember a field trip in the 7th grade. A girl from my church started following me around. She was clearly into me, but she once told me at church, in front of her friends, that I was “too dark to be cool.” That stuck with me. So, when she tried to talk to me on the field trip, I looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Keep that same energy, shawty.”

A man wants a woman who brings substance. Beauty and a banging body might catch his attention—but substance keeps him for life.

My brother had a powerful philosophy. He once said, “A man—handsome or not—will always have options.” I told him, “Women have options too.” He said, “To a certain extent. Let me break it down.”

He said, “A beautiful girl at 18 has the world at her feet. She’s got the looks, the body, and she’s being pursued by all kinds of men—young and old. She can choose the jock. Let’s say Tyrone—the heartthrob. But Tyrone doesn’t see her the way she sees him. She wants love and stability; he wants bragging rights. He’ll never be faithful. Her heart will stay broken.”

“Then comes Joe Joe Average—not too cute, not too ugly—but he’s mentally or physically abusive. He chips away at what’s left of her. She’s 25, no man, four kids, and two different baby daddies.”

“Next comes the funny guy. She’s tired of heartbreak, so now she makes the move. But he’s not interested. He’d rather pay for the company of someone younger, someone prettier, with less baggage. It’s transactional. He says, ‘I’m paying for a service—I don’t have to talk to her, hold her, deal with her emotions or make her feel secure.”

She’s left with no man, four kids, and always masking her hurt by seeking the wrong attention.

Let me sum it up with one of my poems:

“This is a tale—
A tale about the flower and the tree.
The flower asked the tree,
‘Why do you think you’re any better than me?’”

And that’s what it all comes down to—no one is better than anyone else. Love who loves you. Choose based on your soul, not society’s standards. True connection has nothing to do with appearances and everything to do with the heart.

Do not miss out on a lifetime of love for a lifetime searching for nothing that you will never grasp.