What I wish I knew before getting into my first proper relationship
It was difficult to tell what it was at first. It could have been temptation or simply delusion. Love was an abstract construct to me. Back in my high school days, I didn’t feel like anyone would notice me enough to like me in that way. My belief was that my shyness and lack of boobs pushed away boys altogether. But in actual fact, I was naïve and would play along with my self-conscious thoughts. I wish I knew that breast size was not the only factor that contributed to getting a boyfriend. My first kiss in year eleven lead me to believe that there could be humans out there that would be attracted to me.
Kissing is such a silly act of affection. It is just two pairs of lips brushing against each other. The first kiss is always awkward: your teeth get in the way, you have no idea where to put your tongue and saliva is all over the place. No amount of googling and practising on the back of my hand could prepare me for that. I wish I understood there is no need to be embarrassed if something does not go right the first time. Kissing can be method of communicating passion. I knew that it wouldn’t be the fireworks that my ten-year-old self expected. I knew that love at first sight was difficult to master. But I was still oblivious to what a person would call a relationship. If I knew how to approach a relationship, then I would have acted in a different way. My idea of fancying someone was based on my childish year seven crushes.
It wasn’t until a year after my GCSEs that I began to notice a stranger that was the polar opposite of my personality. I had no idea why but I was intrigued by him. Whether it was the bad boy attitude of not caring or his perspective on depressive philosophies, I could listen to him talk all day. Southern Rail must have known more than I did at that point. At one point, my train home was delayed which meant I waited at his house for a couple of hours. The afternoon idled by whilst I sat on his bed, watching his friends play X Box. Who could have guessed that this would somehow lead to a relationship. I wish I knew what the difficulty would be to care for a boy that I started to get feelings for.
A couple of months down the line, we hung out more and others seemed to latch on to how close we were getting. They were interested in the details and wanted to know the gossip so they would ask personal questions. As time passed, I was able to answer them with the truth rather than faking how amazing my romantic life was. Being in a relationship meant I thought about a lot of things (more than usual). I was less selfish and would be more concerned about him. I wondered if he got home safe, I deliberated whether or not to react to his outbursts of anger and I constantly doubted anything positive that escaped his lips. He would break objects and leave places without telling me which only messed with my mind. I blamed myself for a lot of his destruction. I wish I knew that I took on too much. I didn’t have to be responsible for his well-being. Some days I didn’t receive the same amount of attention that I gave. But the more I cared for him, the more I yearned for him to notice me.
I identified myself as needy and jealous. He may have been out with the boys but there were girls there that knew him more that I did. I wanted to know what he was doing all the time which meant I felt like a psycho girlfriend. I craved affection — as I still do today. It’s only human. Any woman needs to be affirmed with the knowledge that she is needed. My first proper relationship meant I revelled in the “there’s a first time for everything” cliché which meant that I learnt a lot. Although this was not cute story of how we lived happily ever after, I was happy back then. But then again, I am even happier now.
I am still naïve and oblivious. I’m still self-conscious of what people think and cautious of what might damage what I have. Nevertheless, the relationship I have now gives me hope that love might not just be an abstract construct but a genuine article.
