I like both athletic girls and girly girls. It depends on their

Josh Hutcherson once shared, “I like both athletic girls and girly girls. It depends on their personality. I like girls who can go out and play sports with me and throw the football around, but you don’t want a girl who’s too much tougher than you. I like brainy girls who can respond to what I’m saying.” At first glance, these words may seem playful, a young man’s lighthearted thoughts on attraction. Yet beneath them lies an ancient truth: that what truly draws us to others is not outward appearance alone, but the harmony of personality, the balance of strength, and the delight of intellect.

In his reflection, Hutcherson praises the diversity of qualities he admires: the vitality of the athletic girl, the grace of the girly girl, and the sharpness of the brainy girl. He reminds us that no single mold defines beauty or worth; rather, each individual shines in their own way. For some, it is the courage to compete, to sweat, and to share the joy of sport. For others, it is gentleness, style, or an embrace of femininity. Still others dazzle through wit, conversation, and the keen blade of the mind. This diversity is not a contradiction but a celebration of the many forms that human strength and charm may take.

The ancients too honored such variety. In Greek myths, Athena embodied wisdom and strategy, Artemis embodied athletic vigor and independence, and Aphrodite embodied beauty and grace. None was diminished by the existence of the others; together, they represented the fullness of womanhood. Hutcherson’s words echo this same truth: that the soul seeks not one narrow quality, but a blend that resonates with its own. What matters most, he says, is personality—the invisible essence that gives life to strength, beauty, or intellect.

History gives us shining examples. Consider Eleanor Roosevelt, often remembered as brainy and wise, who stood beside presidents and reshaped the role of the First Lady with courage and intellect. Consider Babe Didrikson Zaharias, who broke barriers in athletics and proved that women could stand as equals in strength and competition. And consider Audrey Hepburn, whose grace and kindness made her beloved around the world. Each was different, yet each revealed that it is the inner spirit, not the outer category, that determines one’s lasting impact.

The emotional power of Hutcherson’s words comes from their humility. He admits that he seeks balance—someone strong enough to join him in play, yet not so overwhelming as to overshadow. This desire is deeply human, for all relationships rest upon balance, not domination. In truth, the greatest partnerships are not built on one being tougher than the other, but on the dance of equals, where differences complement and personalities intertwine.

For the seeker of wisdom, the lesson is this: do not be blinded by surface alone. Look beyond labels like “athletic,” “girly,” or “brainy,” and seek the personality that gives them life. Ask: does this person bring balance to me? Do they challenge me when I need challenge, comfort me when I need rest, inspire me when I need courage? True attraction lies not in outward roles but in inner harmony.

What then must we do? Honor the variety of qualities in others, and do not limit your appreciation to one form alone. Celebrate strength when you find it, celebrate beauty when it shines, celebrate intellect when it speaks—but always look deeper, to the personality that binds these qualities together. And within yourself, cultivate not just one face, but many: the strength to play, the grace to nurture, and the wisdom to converse with depth.

Thus Josh Hutcherson’s words, though spoken in simplicity, echo with timeless truth: the greatest attraction is born not of appearance alone, but of balance, personality, and harmony of spirit. Seek this in others, nurture it in yourself, and your relationships will not be shallow infatuations but lasting bonds that honor the full breadth of human possibility.