In grade 1, there was Greg, the boy I loved with all my 6-year-old heart. Then there was my mad crush on that boy from youth group, John, who I sent a secret rose and poem to on Valentine’s Day in grade 8 (and if you were to read my diary from back then, I certainly thought I loved that boy.) Finally, there was the first boy I fell for as a full fledged teenager, that boy who made my heart race by holding my hand, whose kiss made me realize what a kiss should really feel like, that boy I’d fall asleep with on the phone - the boy I eventually married. As I think about it now, I’m sure it was him - Zig - my future husband, my heart first truly loved.
But it’s a good reminder that when someone thinks they are in love - whether they are six years old or twelve years old or sixteen years old, it’s real to them at the time. As a teacher and a Mom, it’s good for me to remember how I felt back then, as a child, then as a preteen, then as a teenager.
Love changes with time. It grows, it evolves. But it’s fun to remember how bright it burned back when we were first falling.