Dude, I'm not telling you to lie, and I'm not telling you to fool yourself.

Let's imagine two girls, shall we? We'll name them Ginger and Maryann. Ginger is a narcissistic vamp who is only attracted to gay intellectuals. She's prone to histrionics and leopard prints. Maryanne sees the good in everyone and sees no point in being anything but happy. Both of them are pretty hot, by the way.

You'd be naturally attracted to Ginger - after all, she's got your tweaks. but you don't walk up to Ginger and say "you know I love how you have such a hopeless love for gay men" because she knows she has a hopeless love for gay men and because it's bad for you. Instead you might (personally) focus on the fact that she listens to Christian rock, that she loves her parents and that she collects Manolo Blahniks.

Maryann, on the other hand, doesn't want anyone to know she smokes a little doobage on the side and enjoys skinny dipping. You play up the 420 and the nudity with Maryann, suddenly she's a wild girl... to both you and her.

Lookit that. The vamp turns out to be just another boring singer:

While Little Miss Wholesome ends up with a mugshot:

I'm not telling you to reshape reality, I'm telling you to reshape how you regard reality. Telling a girl into Garth Brooks that a love of Garth Brooks is unique is just asinine. Telling a girl who's into Garth Brooks that she doesn't seem like the kind of girl who's into Garth Brooks can be a great conversation point - assuming she doesn't seem like the kind of girl who's into Garth Brooks. You don't have to tell every Mary Poppins that you like their swag - you need to see that there is no Mary Poppins and find the swag in everyone. And yes, of course she's capable of this journey on her own. The whole point of relationships (friends, romans, fuckbuddies) is to multiply the discovery through repeated emotional collision and occasional genital contact.