Didn’t we all have adolescent obsessions that bordered on stalking or was that just me? This story will make your embarrassing moments seem way less embarrassing! It’s that bad, I’ve never spoken of it.
As you may have noticed from some of my posts, I have a flair for the dramatic. I recall an experience of such exaggerated intensity with my first crush. For the sake of the blog and the fact that some of my readers will know him, I’ll call him Eric, Eric Axel. This pseudonym is not exactly cryptic, it‘s about 2 letters off from his actual name. Look, I pursued him like an obsessed stalker I’m sure it’s no surprise to him.
This was old school stalking I’m referring to: no technology, no cell phone, or FB, or twitter, or my space. I’m talking about the kind of stalking that took time and effort and premeditation, something to tell your grandchildren about.
So, I’m gonna rip off the Band-Aid, that is this repressed memory, and let the healing begin. I was in the 7th grade and I was in love. “Love” love. Eric went to another school. He was cute. He was athletic. He was cool. He was mean to me. What other reasons could there be for a 12yr old girl to fall in love? I think I called him 20 times a day, 10 of which, I just hung up. I’m sure the lack of caller ID and *69 really fooled him and his parents. Other times we would talk for hours. If I skipped a day, which rarely happened, he would call me. As much as he “hated” my harassment, he grew accustomed to it and missed my creepy declarations of undying love.
He invited me to his basketball games and his school play, which I went to like a puppy dog only to be heartbreakingly ignored. He would show up at my softball games, watch and then leave without saying hello. I was happy to get all the negative attention, cause lets face it, it wasn’t indifference. I was also too young to understand that the invitations and surprise visits said something on his part.
Then he invited me to a movie, my first date. In a million years I don’t think I would remember what we saw. Oh yea, Space Camp. Okay so I remember. I also don’t remember if he held my hand and maybe felt me up (over the shirt). That was a little slutty of me, I know, but love has no boundaries. Well, just a training bra.
Exciting stuff right? It actually gets worse. The story thus far may have coaxed out some old painful memories of angst and torment. Memories, that you have buried somewhere in the recesses of your mind, and cringe at, when they emerge. However, my story will make you feel like you can unrepress and visit them with ease.
We made more plans and of course my infatuation only intensified. I went to his Bar Mitzvah and the other kids had mentioned that he was dating a girl from his school. “What? Huh???” I found the nearest bathroom and cried, and bawled, and sniffled, and gurgled under the crushing pain. I walked out to find a boy I was friendly with… in a dramatic twist, I told him I was going to kill myself. Trust me, I didn’t really get what I was saying or the weight of that statement, nor did I imagine a bunch of 12 year olds would take me seriously. I needed attention and reassurance, and it just flew out of my mouth.
Well, before I knew it the entire kids portion of the Bar Mitzvah was in the lobby of his country club trying to console me and make sure I didn’t do anything drastic. “Hide the butter knives!“ someone yelled in the frenzy of “child psychologists,” -in the literal sense- while the parents danced unwittingly inside. The children were saving me from myself. Ahh, this feels good, this attention, this love, this concern. But it’s not enough. When will Eric come over and profess that it was me all along. That he was so worried about me doing something drastic?
He didn’t. Actually he did, though I believe it was to ask what the hell I was doing and find out why no one was inside during his candle lighting ceremony, which he worked really hard on writing. Even more mortifying, he was followed by a concerned parent, as word of my threat had made it to the upper echelon of invitees.
You probably want to crawl into a hole just reading this, so you can imagine the humiliation of living it, but it happened. We all have those moments that we wish we could suck back, or wake up from and say, “Phew, that was just a dream.” Well, that was one of mine. One of, because I have volumes of mistakes, faux pas, blunders, and errors in judgment that shaped the confident, brilliant, humble, and perfect in every way adult I have become.
I look back and think, if only I could have used the skills I mastered just a few short years later. I would have backed off, invoked insecurity, and gained the upper hand. Those were feminine wiles I learned out of necessity, as clearly my ability to obsess would not get me far with the boys. Tricks my father taught me in lieu of some seriously deserved psychiatric analysis. “Jenny, just remember, the boys like a challenge.” He was right. To this day I’ve never met a boy that didn’t fill that bill.
LOL…OMG, this brought back so many cringing, crimson faced, gut wrenching memories about crushes on boys! I can’t say I ever had an experience quite like yours but you made me laugh…hard. Thanks!
What I worry about now is making sure my almost 11 year-old daughter figures out early that presenting a challenge will get you the guy in the end, in most cases. Either that or not realize that boys exist at all until she’s 18. Ha, that’ll never happen! Sigh…
OMG….Just saw him on Say Yes to the Dress (which may be his most embarrassing moment!)…not a very good cover name…by-the-by!!!
Miss you and you still make me pee a little every time I read your insightful blogs!
Alison- That’s sooo funny, I just realized that this kid from middle school is one letter off of the person you’re thinking of from college. I never noticed that coincidence, maybe I should just write his real name to avoid confusion.
I think I remember this. I also think if I though long and hard enough i am sure I could find even more embarrassing stories about you for your readers. xo
I just did actually die of mortification over that one for you, Oh, precious Jesus…that is awful.
I know, it’s truly mortifying! I cringed when I wrote it and paused over the publish button for a few days!
When I first saw what the story was about I thought you were referring to “stalking” Jon Stewart in college. What was in the note you handed him??
Hilarious! I am sharing this on my FB wall!!
I can’t believe you used a name so ridiculously close to the real one! I remember having to hang with Keith (we’ll call him Keith Silber to hide his identity) just so you could hang with Eric. So funny. I wonder if he even remembers.
Jaime- That cracked me up. I love your pseudonym! Nicole- Please, that one’s between me and J Stew. as his close friends call him. That may fall more under narcissistic than stalking, but embarrassing none the less.
Oy, oy,oy…to think there are 2 drama queens in one family is just two, too much!
who doesn’t have a story like this, especially from jr. high. i’d develop a crush, find myself taking glimpses across the classroom or staring across the room at a party. for me, being so shy, i would never get up the nerve to talk. but then i’d hear from a friend i had no chance, i’m not the one, and then go into serious depression. never said i’d kill myself, but just went off to my room with my heart broken.
This conjured up some memories I had hidden way deep in the confounds of my demented stalking mind. Thanks! Before technology, stalking was a lot different and a LOT more work. (not that I’ve stalked since I turned like 17 but whatever) I remember walking by the house of my 8th grade crush so many times hoping he’d coincidently come outside and profess his undying love to me. Instead he dated my best friend. Go figure.
This may seem stalkerish of you – but Jenny I love, love, love you!
Love, love, love this post – and your dad’s mantra (will use on my two girls when they come of age to embarrass themselves to this degree or avoid it all as a result of these words of wisdom). Takes me back to more than one such moment in my own life, and unfortunately, not limited to junior high. You have that going for you!
So funny — as always. Your blog is priceless. Keep up the good work.
You somehow always seem to perfectly put the words in our mouths! Thanks Jenny!
The one thing missing is a trail of toilet paper on your shoe – or poking out the back of your dress. ha ha ha ha
Jenny, this is so well written. What young girl hasn’t experienced this drama? These memories are lessons we learn. We watch as the next generation succumbs to the same emotional roller coaster. It is human nature whether on both sides of the gene pool.
Love it! I want to know if this actually bought you the healing you are seeking? Your answer could invoke the need to rid myself of my own cringing experience.
I didn’t even know what happened you kept a good secrety. Although I do remember the crush. We all had them. Mine was a boy named Greg P. I was head over heels in love and was devastated when he didn’t ask me to the Halloween dance. Oh well…then there was…
Oh wow! What a story, Jenny. This hit home for me. From 7th to 8th grade I stalked a boy who was in some of my classes. Every time I saw him, I took a photo of him with my 110 cartridge camera. Classmates never said anything to me, they just razzed him about it. My brother enabled me and would drive me by his house on Sundays after church. My friends and I TP’d his house about 5 times over the course of 2 summers until we got caught. Amazingly, I did eventually wind up dating him for a short time. He was flattered to see his photos all over my room and the collage of his name I’d cut out of newspapers (Mark is a common word in print). Very creepy now that I look back at it. I always wonder if that affected his future dating life at all.
I was so boy crazy at that age I can’t even say I had a single crush. I thank the heavens my 14 year old didn’t take after me!
Jenny,
You never cease to make me laugh! I’m so happy that our path’s crossed at school or I never would have known you!
Whenever I need happy moment, I go directly for your blog. Your embarrassing moment tops any that I’ve ever had!
Boys go through similar eye watering crush experiences. Feel sorry for the hormone driven, yet immature sensitive boys who can’t pluck up the courage to respond to the signals or make the first move. Memories of painful innocence!
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i think the one reason I never kept a journal was so I could forget all this stuff. I went to 40 bar and bat mitzvahs, that’s right, 40 and I’d say I made an ass of myself at about 39 of them.
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