Of first crushes (and the feelings that come with them...)
My eleven-year-old nephew has his first crush. The girl's name is Sarah and they've been buds since the first grade. She's one of his good friends, "one of the boys." Most days, he plays with her at recess. Most days, he'll bring her up in casual conversation: "Sarah has that sweater" or "Sarah's favourite Harry Potter book is Prisoner of Azkaban."
It's equal parts endearing and heartbreaking to hear the shyness in his voice, to see the tenderness in his eyes. Equal parts.
It's endearing because this is my nephew; I changed his diapers, made his bottles, kissed his boo-boos, and read him bedtime stories. To see him experience his first crush is oddly humbling; here is this boy who's experiencing love for the first time. Every time he brings her up touches my heart; warms me from the inside out. Reminds me that love comes whether you want it to or not; it has no agenda.
It's heartbreaking because I know how this plays out; he'll see Sarah through the magical, loving light of affection, will see her imperfections and morph them into simple perfections. Our first chance at love is always exciting and confusing and numbing and jovial. But I'm a cynical romantic: I know that with every experience in life (be it good or bad) comes a life lesson. My nephew is so gentle-hearted; I want (oh so badly) for his first foray into love to be a positive one.
I know it's futile to worry about a situation that hasn't resolved itself fully. For all I know, Sarah might reciprocate his feelings; for all I know, he and Sarah might one day fall deeply in love with each other. Just because my first crush crippled me with simultaneous feelings of fear and elation, rendering me into a blubbering mess that wouldn't and couldn't fall asleep and stayed wide awake for most of the night the day she realized her feelings for a boy three years her senior -- a night in which my older sisters and cousin stayed up eating chocolate ice cream while patting my back and trying desperately to convince me that liking someone wasn't the end of the world (true story) -- doesn't mean that my emotionally mature nephew won't know what to do with these newfound feelings. I cannot and should not be so utterly pessimistic about this defining moment in his life.
My eleven-year-old nephew has his first crush and all I can do is fret over the outcome.
It's equal parts endearing and heartbreaking to hear the shyness in his voice, to see the tenderness in his eyes. Equal parts.
It's endearing because this is my nephew; I changed his diapers, made his bottles, kissed his boo-boos, and read him bedtime stories. To see him experience his first crush is oddly humbling; here is this boy who's experiencing love for the first time. Every time he brings her up touches my heart; warms me from the inside out. Reminds me that love comes whether you want it to or not; it has no agenda.
It's heartbreaking because I know how this plays out; he'll see Sarah through the magical, loving light of affection, will see her imperfections and morph them into simple perfections. Our first chance at love is always exciting and confusing and numbing and jovial. But I'm a cynical romantic: I know that with every experience in life (be it good or bad) comes a life lesson. My nephew is so gentle-hearted; I want (oh so badly) for his first foray into love to be a positive one.
I know it's futile to worry about a situation that hasn't resolved itself fully. For all I know, Sarah might reciprocate his feelings; for all I know, he and Sarah might one day fall deeply in love with each other. Just because my first crush crippled me with simultaneous feelings of fear and elation, rendering me into a blubbering mess that wouldn't and couldn't fall asleep and stayed wide awake for most of the night the day she realized her feelings for a boy three years her senior -- a night in which my older sisters and cousin stayed up eating chocolate ice cream while patting my back and trying desperately to convince me that liking someone wasn't the end of the world (true story) -- doesn't mean that my emotionally mature nephew won't know what to do with these newfound feelings. I cannot and should not be so utterly pessimistic about this defining moment in his life.
My eleven-year-old nephew has his first crush and all I can do is fret over the outcome.
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