I haven't really responded in this thread, but the words came to me today.
I definitely have a physical "type" I go for. Tall, lean, broad shoulders. I intensely dislike big, bulky, artificially engineered looking bodies. A man should have a neck; just sayin'. I like long limbs, narrow hips, messy hair, and "imperfections", moles and beautymarks, slightly crooked teeth, cowlicks, scars, etc. Puppydog eyes slay me, so do fierce eyebrows. I stopped dating Americans altogether when I was about 27; accents are aphrodisiac to me. I like confidence but not arrogance, soft spoken rather than loud, laconic rather than hyper. Reflective rather than intense. I prefer creative intelligence to pure intellectualism. I am attracted to men who truly like women; many don't. At the first sign of dominance or objectifying (and there was a lot of that) my bile rises and I'm flooded with contempt. Sense of humor is critical, as is tenderness. I like to feel a sense of deliberately reigned-in power. I like to feel that if I or my children were threatened he could and would protect me with ferocity but I would never ever ever accept that same ferocity turned toward me or my children.
The guy I've historically gone for has generally turned out to be the worst type for me. I used to love a puzzle. I'd love seeing glimpses of something noble and sensitive and kind and philosophical through the window of a extremely masculine, tough, indifferent, even smug facade. Problem is, those glimpses usually stayed glimpses. I spent six years with one guy I - to this day - think was an incredibly beautiful, unique person - but a hopeless or willing prisoner to the facade he'd created for himself. Six years is a long time; my average relationship duration was two years (about the time it took to crack the nut and decide that what fell out was disappointing).
My husband Tom (ESFP) has been the exception to the rule. He's an extrovert, which balances my introversion, and at parties and other social events where I'd normally corner-cower, he's encouraged me to shine. His E has balanced out my I very well over time. He's an alpha male (which attracts me) but of the quietest most confident sort, expressing it with vibe rather than with fanfare. I'm an alpha female of the same type, so we've mainly been equals, though I confess he out-alphas me from time to time and I develop periods of "oh whatever." and let him have his way. He's quirky, charming, confident, eccentric and desperately sexy. He's got some sort of vibe that attracts both females and males, and people hang on his words. Pheromones Deluxe, I guess. He's got all the physical traits I'm drawn to. Sometimes the "differentness" of him drives me up the freaking wall but I expect it's that same "differentness" that keeps my adoration of him intact. He's loyal, devoted and even worshipful while still being admiring of other women. He adores and respects women, big women, small women, pregnant woman, women of all races... and yet has never for a moment expressed it in any way that made me worry about infidelity.
We're coming up on 13 years of marriage now and I understand something very distinctly: What I go for is Tom. There won't ever be anyone else.