The first boy I ever had a crush on very rarely took off his Chicago Bulls hoodie. We lived in Pennsylvania, so location-wise this fandom didn’t make much sense. He occasionally swapped it for a Pittsburgh Steelers pullover, but now when I picture him it is always with his gangly, pre-teen boy silhouette hugged by the Chicago Bulls logo.
We never forget the first people we fall innocently for, especially because they are often times the first people to teach us about rejection. I was a precocious 8-year-old, a mop-headed know it all, always raising my hand and telling other kids “that’s against the rules” and taking the teacher to task when I thought the day’s lesson material “wasn’t important.” I had a sweetness that lay close to the surface but was often masked by my academic competitiveness. My first crush taught me that being smart is unattractive, and that being outspoken is unfeminine.
Once at a meeting for the 5th grade yearbook, I overheard several of the mothers–including his–talking about who their sons should date. They voted unanimously for Molly, a lithe, golden-haired dancer with a soft, lispy voice. When one of them said I was too loud, it was the first time I learned what girls were supposed to be like: not tree climbers or math whizzes, not Pokemon card collectors or strong-willed superheroes. Girls were supposed to be like Molly, all delicate angles and quiet grace.
Later that year my crush did in fact “date” Molly, but it was elementary school for god’s sakes, so that didn’t last long. The next year I moved away and got boobs and started reading a lot of Judy Blume. Years later, Molly became a cheerleader for an NFL team and is now masturbation material for hicks everywhere. My first crush taught me that that’s what girls are supposed to be, but it’s not what I am like, not at all.
I was not like Molly, not then or now or ever. I have grown shyer and more silent over the years, I have grown softer and more resilient. Still, I do not know how to be a graceful girl or a dumb girl or a giggle-instead-of-confront-the-problem girl. I do not know how to be any girl other than the one I am. I guess, ultimately, that’s what my first crush taught me.
ooh, i love the illustration. who is it by?
I know, isn’t it awesome?All the pics I post here link to the original source if you click on them. In this case it’s here: http://vi.sualize.us/view/a931e40f3192416a915e0a3ca45ea210/ Not exactly sure who it’s by, though.
So beautiful! Just like you.
It is so funny how all this is still so true after feminism, after college, after it was all supposed to go away or something.
YES— EXACTLY. So true.