Back in lockdown, I was living by myself and doing my best to mend a broken heart from yet another emotionally unavailable man. I know, it’s a tale as old as time.

I was licking my wounds and bingeing episodes of Yellowstone. ‘Beth would never put up with this s***,’ I thought to myself, as I sobbed about a man who, upon reflection, really wasn’t worth the tears.

So when an older, shorter, but kind man came into my orbit about halfway through that damn lockdown, I wasn’t too worried.

While I adored his attention, I shamelessly (and shallowly) thought he was so far removed from my usual type that there was no danger of getting my heart broken again.

Well, spoiler alert, there was a plot twist I didn’t see coming.

When I finally got the blasted Covid, he would leave comforting food packages at my door. And once it finally choofed off out of my system, he registered to become my ‘bubble buddy’ (remember when you had to register to let someone stay at your house? Wild times!)

We stayed up all night drinking gin martinis and eating sushi. To this day, it’s still one of the best nights of my life.

What happened though, was I caught the feels. For a man well under six foot with a receding hairline, and a job in an industry that, at the time, was not exactly going gangbusters.

This was not the Brad Pitt (circa Legends of the Fall era) I had in mind for myself. But what I fell for was his deep voice, his powerful stare, and an aura that made him deliciously alpha. The way he gave a big, booming laugh if I said something funny – I couldn’t get enough of it.

Sadly, after we came out of lockdown, we both got on with our very busy lives. Although we do occasionally dance into each other’s lives from time to time, and when we do, it’s glorious.

But it got me thinking about the Lana Del Reys, the Selena Gomezes, and the Ariana Grandes of this world, who are constantly belittled for their choice in men.

Men who don’t live up to the handsome Hollywood type we’ve grown accustomed to seeing our celebrities marry. Think Brad and Angelina, George and Amal, Ryan and Blake. All ridiculously good-looking. But why do we assume they’ve made better mating decisions?

Having dated on both sides of the fence, I’ve discovered that often the most handsome ones have personalities based solely on just that – being hot. They haven’t had to work hard on their personalities, and it shows.

I remember going out with a former AussieBum model who bored me to tears. God, he was pretty though. Could I see a life growing old with him? Nope. How dull. Give me a man with depth, humour and wisdom any day over a chiselled jawline.

Men like this have learned to lean into what really counts – the art of conversation, emotional connection and being reliable. I can’t count the number of times a man with ‘model vibes’ left me questioning my worth or feeling insecure, whereas the so-called ‘average Joe’ left me feeling absolutely adored.

So why do we glorify superficial standards when love, at its core, thrives on the unseen qualities?

Take Adam Driver, for instance. The man isn’t winning any ‘prettiest face’ contests, but slap him in a black cape as Star Wars’ Kylo Ren, and suddenly we’re all swooning over his deep voice and commanding presence.

It’s a vibe, not a face. So much so that even Burberry stuck him shirtless on a horse to sell one of their fragrances. That man made big bucks for his 𝓈ℯ𝓍y vibe – and men, that’s worth bottling!

And don’t even get me started on what has become known as ‘pretty fatigue’.

There’s an invisible stress when you date someone everyone else finds perfect. Am I matching his energy? Is he noticing that wrinkle I just found? I swear, it’s refreshing to date a guy who’s more interested in the footy score than his own reflection in the mirror.

I have a strict rule: If they spend more time getting ready to go out than I do, they are not for me. Red flag, red flag.

There’s something about a man with an imperfect face who still carries himself like a king. It’s confidence, not cheekbones, that’ll have you whipping your clothes off in a lusty flurry.

My lockdown bubble buddy had a wonky nose from his younger years playing footy, and I actually grew to love it. It was part of his charm, and I found it adorable.

So maybe next time your friends raise an eyebrow at your unconventional crush, remind them that real love isn’t skin deep.

After all, it’s the guy who brings you sushi and martinis when you’re on your last leg that ends up stealing your heart – not the guy flexing his abs on Instagram.

I’m personally chuffed for Selena’s engagement. I’ve found myself lost down many a Benny Blanco Insta reel hole, and that man is hilarious. Oh, and a good cook! Oh, and ridiculously creative. I would say she’s hit the jackpot.