Your First Love

This is a tough one…

I almost wanted to go a bit abstract and say music was my first love. That’s my “go-to” and what I always fall back on. It grounds me. Then, I thought of God and my family, where I’ve really learned the meaning of unconditional love.  But I know what the subject implies…. What you REALLY want to know is the juicy stuff…

Boys. 😉

If you can believe it, I remember having a boyfriend crush on a boy in Kindergarten. He was pretty popular… so it would seem from his little fan club. I thought I was his one-and-only. We held hands, but that was all.  How quickly I would be acclimated to the ways of men and learn they are only as faithful as their options! I was confronted by a girl with  long, raven hair about my association with this very young charlatan, claiming he was her boyfriend (in kindergarten!!!). My response came in the way of vigorous hair-pulling.  I must have learned to share in the first grade… The funny thing is that shortly after that little er, uhm, situation, we see him walking around arm-in-arm with another girl and felt so silly at our own folly.  We learned then that if your man is “cheating” on you, you take it up with HIM not with the other girl. Many times, they too are victims to his indiscretions and not accomplice, as you may have thought.  So it goes, “All’s well that ends well.” She and I became the best-friends afterwards.  Her younger sister and mine were bestfriends, too. The four of us were inseparable…. that is, until we left the Bronx. But, I digress….

This “kinder-crush” obviously wasn’t really love. That raises the question, what is true love? Every one has a different definition, but I will offer you this….

True Love is not real unless it is returned. – Elena, The Vampire Diaries.

Based on this, I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced “true love.”  Oh, yes, I fall in love famously, but love has so many manifestations.

My first actual boyfriend was maybe the closest thing to pure, true love, perhaps because of the innocence of it all. It was a time when you were still foolish enough to believe in “fairy tales” and “happily ever after.” There’s a part of me that still believes it now.  In retrospect, we would have never worked out. We were very cosmopolitan in that we were an interracial couple and claimed not to care. However, we were kids and didn’t have to deal with real world situations, yet. For instance, how would we raise our children? He was Muslim and I was Christian. Culturally, things were very different. We constantly got into arguments over things that we shouldn’t have, like me kissing another man on the cheek, HUGE taboo in his culture.  His parents would have never accepted our relationship, anyway. We always kept it a secret from them. Nevertheless, I loved him dearly and he loved me.  So foolish we were then…. From before and since, I have been love’s fool.

Music has always been one of the ways I relate to life experiences, especially love, joy, pain and suffering. Written word (lyrics) in combination with musical accompaniment, a melody, cuts to the core of me, and let me know that good, bad or indifferent, someone else has been there. In that moment, I share in that experience with the musicians, the poets, the authors and (I imagine) they share with me.

The following songs are in “Classic Me” fashion:

I suppose I have officially fulfilled my requirement for this particular post, which is really to talk about my “first love,” not necessarily my first “true love.”  I’m still waiting for that one to come along. (Stay tuned for the upcoming post about “The Unicorn”) Having said that, I know that each love (false, true, platonic, whatever) brings me closer, so here’s to all the men I’ve ever loved before (in no particular order).

*raises up a glass*

  • The one who saw me for who I was, not just the hot little package it came in;
  • The one who saw my limitless potential and was my greatest cheerleader;
  • The one who believed in me before I knew how to fully believe in myself;
  • The one who first made me feel sensations that were new and foreign. I now know those butterflies ALL too well; (Hope to feel them again soon…)
  • The one that broke my heart because I learned it wasn’t a fatal condition;
  • The one who broke my heart again,and again because I learned that not everyone deserves a second (third or fourth) chance to hurt you;
  • The one that taught me that jealousy is an exercise in futility because if a man wants to cheat, he will find a way regardless of what measures you take to control him;
  • The one who showed me how a man can and should take care of a lady, despite me stubbornly insisting on taking care of myself;
  • The one who bored the bageezus out of me in the sack because it showed me that a pretty face and a hot body wasn’t going to keep me interested for the long haul;
  • The one who absolutely thrilled me in the sack WITHOUT me having to reach for my “toy box”… (Not that there’s anything wrong with that. That’s fun, too.)
  • The one that wasn’t intimidated by the toy box 😉 because I learned the importance of having open communication in a relationship;
  • The one that showed me that once trust has been betrayed, try as you may, that’s just one of those things you never get back;
  • The one that taught me that you can’t change or fix anyone but yourself. Sometimes you just have to let people save themselves;
  • The one that showed me that I am worth the world and everything in it;
  • The one that doubted me because it only made me that much more hungry to prove him wrong;
  • The one that attempted to destroy me and failed;
  • The one that I trusted against my better judgement and betrayed it because he taught me to always trust my gut. Sisters, if you think you know, — you know.  You always know;
  • The one that loved me when he really had no reason to because it showed me how to love others the same way;
  • The one that stood by me, even though he knew he wasn’t getting it in with me because I learned that some guys will see value in things besides what’s between my legs;
  • The one that snuggled with me because it showed me that if even for a little while, men and women can be just friends; (This makes me smile.)
  • The one that wasted my time because it made it so much more precious and valuable to me;
  • The one that didn’t put a ring on it because I would’ve been stuck with your dumbass before I knew any better;
  • The one that tried to save me from myself and failed, because had he succeeded, I might still be living in an existential coma.

I’m sure I could go on, but you get the idea. These statements are not separate because they are exclusive to a particular man. In fact, many of these apply to many men, including the ones that I haven’t actually dated (or slept with for that matter, such as, close male friends).

So I’d like to propose a toast to the douchebags the ones that have ever truly loved me for whatever period or moment in time… Here’s to YOU.

I appreciate you for the good, the bad, and the just plain f*cked up.Without you, I would not be this magnificent creäture I have become today.

Thank you.

Love Always, Dani V.

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6 thoughts on “Your First Love

  1. That 2nd paragraph reminded me so much of my kindergarten days…

    My 1st “kinder-crush” (I won’t charge you for that one lol) was a girl named Veronica, “Roni” for short. Pretty, light-brown skinned girl w/ long brown hair. In retrospect, I believe she was a Latina. Funny, I always thought my “Latin-fever” emerged as I got older, but I guess it goes back much, much farther than I thought. Anyways… I admit I was a bit of a stalker when it came to Roni. I remember one game we played in class where we all had to do some sort of crab-walk (on all fours, but w/ our feet out front and our hands behind). She was next to me and whenever she moved, I moved to line up w/ her again. This annoyed the mess out of her. I thought she hated me for that. Apparently, she didn’t. Some time later, my mom heard a knock on our apartment door in Hinesville, GA. Lo and behold, it was Roni and her two older sisters asking if I could come out to play. (I don’t remember ever telling her where I lived. I guess it was HER turn to stalk ME lol). For some reason, mom told her no. I don’t remember mom being nasty about it or anything, but to this day I don’t know why mom wouldn’t let me go out. I’ll have to bug her about that one day. Roni was definitely a cutie 🙂

    My 2nd kinder-crush was a cute black girl named Tiffany (Tiffany must be that universal “pretty girl” name. Dang near impossible to meet a busted-looking Tiffany. Not completely impossible, but almost). I liked Tiffany so much that I when I was at my aunt’s house in Columbus, GA, I asked her if I could take a flower out of her garden to give her at school the next day. I learned the hard way that flowers don’t survive long in shoe boxes. I even gave her a ring I bought out of a gumball machine. Yeah dude… I was pretty sprung. Unfortunately, she liked someone else. There was this dude named Thibidi (Thibidi? Really? Who names their kid that? #WhereTheyDoDatAt?). I actually liked Thibidi at first. Dude used to rock a Transformers T-shirt w/ Optimus Prime on it. He was cool with me if for no other reason than that. That is, until the day I heard Tiffany singing “♪I wanna marry Thibidi♫” From that point on, I was like “I hate that ninja…” We eventually got into an argument over her during field day that year. Tiffany ended the argument by giving us a group hug, saying “I love BOTH of you!” Young and naive, that was good enough for us.

  2. Beautifully written piece. The part which resonated most with me was: 


    “Music has always been  one of the ways I relate to life experiences, especially love, joy, pain and suffering. Written word (lyrics) in combination with musical accompaniment, a melody, cuts to the core of me, and let me know that good, bad or indifferent, someone else has been there. In that moment, I share in that experience with the musicians, the poets, the authors and (I imagine) they share with me.”

    All this while, I had been under the illusion that my gargantuan connection with music was peerless. 🙂

  3. Pingback: 30 Days of Blogging Challenge – TAKE TWO! | La Passionista

  4. Love the vulnerability you shared in the toast to all the ones you loved and learned from. It’s that vulnerability and the willingness to still be open to experiencing love that will have the one who’s right for you recognize you from a mile away! ❤

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