8 - Secret.

Me not saying much as a teenager was interpreted as me being a private person. I was a very focused individual people would say. My family would ask my sister about things in that patronising way adults ask young people about their personal lives.

“Have you got a boyfriend? What’s his name? How many is that now?” they would taunt her.

I was always impressed by her frank answers. She didn’t seem embarrassed at all by the concept of having feelings for boys. It all seemed so natural. I got asked once or twice but I’m assuming because of my deadpan silence and awkward facial expression they felt weird and stopped asking me.

“You’re a good girl, you focus on your school work don’t you Em?” they would ask, but it was never really a question, more of a statement. No one really seem to expect me to be interested in dating.

I actually did have a boyfriend once, two in fact! By grade six it was considered an acceptable time to start asking people out. One by one my friends started pairing off with the boys we had previously just considered to be our mates. It was a numbers game. Shit, what the bloody hell am I going to do here? I was popular enough in school that it was kind of expected that I should have a boyfriend so I needed to come up with something in order to maintain my social status.

One of my best friends was a boy named Matthew, so I started to question whether I liked him? We hung out a lot and I liked talking to him so maybe that's what liking someone means. His mother always gave me a look when I came over, smiling and saying she trusted we would be ok being alone together while she went out. We would look up from our video game just long enough to give her a confused frown then focus back on the screen. “What is she talking about?” He asked once, while shooting me with a red shell in Mario Kart.

“I dunno, maybe she thinks we like, like each other? ...Do we...like each other?” I asked, pissed about being shot but also curious to know whether he too was wondering if we should partner up?

“Nah, not like that, we are just friends... right?” he replied quickly. “Yeah, totally” and that was it. The boy I thought I might be able to get away with dating while I waited to get these feelings everyone else seemed to be getting both shot me and friendzoned me at the same time. Fuck, what do I do now?

Much to my surprise a boy named Tim, who was arguably in the top five ‘most popular boys’, asked me if I wanted to go out with him. Like me, Tim didn’t come across as the most assured about how he presented to the world. He didn’t have the swagger that Matthew and the other ‘top five’ boys had, but he was witty and clever with a gentle nature. Everybody liked him. Maybe I could like him too?

Usually I like to have time to think things over so I was quite taken aback by his offer. I did some quick calculations in my head. There were only two, maybe three known ‘couples’ in the grade so he couldn't have been at desperation point yet. There were definitely much prettier girls still boyfriend-less. What was his game? I thought to myself.

It's either:

a) This boy wants to avoid rejection by not aiming too high so he picked a mid-range candidate

b) He too is panicking about not having feelings for anyone so is trying to cover up

or c) Maybe he might actually like me and that is why he asked me out

In what I’m sure was a particularly long moment for Tim waiting for me to churn through my self-doubt, I finally agreed to ‘go out’ with him.

We had what was probably one of the longest and most stable relationships of grade six. We were also quite progressive. With my new found confidence that someone could actually find me attractive - coupled with Tim’s shy but wants-to-be-part-of-it-all attitude - we were the first couple to kiss in public. And by public I mean surrounded by half the grade circling us in front of the bubbler chanting ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’. It was very romantic.

I admit, at first I was in it for the glory but eventually his charm did win me over. We knew we were supposed to meet after school or call each other when we got home which both of us clearly found painfully awkward. When we eventually stopped being terrified of each other, we actually become quite good friends. Terrible lovers, but very good friends. He will forever have a place in my heart as the first person to make me feel special.

Alas, I broke Tim’s heart (arguable) by deciding to date another boy outside of school. Again, I was out to prove something. I thought this rather risque move would be the kick I needed to convince myself and my family that I was totally normal despite contrary belief. Boys didn’t seem to mind that I dressed like them at this stage, and we were too awkward to do anything other that kiss so I thought I would be able to maintain the charade.

Unfortunately no amount of pashing under the blue light disco lights to KC and JoJo seemed to give me warm tingles in my belly, or anywhere else for that matter. In the deep dark confines of my mind I was wondering why I so desperately wanted to practice kissing with my friends. It was starting to take over my thoughts.

One day in grade seven they really ramped up sex education by introducing the “secret question box”. It was designed to make us feel comfortable about asking questions by making it anonymous. Perhaps if they hadn’t made us feel so embarrassed about what was happening to our bodies and our sexuality in the first place, this wouldn’t be necessary. But I had a question burning in the back of my mind that had been there for quite some time. This might be my only chance.

I deliberated over the wording until time was almost up. In the end I went with the least gay approach I could think of. “What if I think that my friends are really pretty?” I wrote in the most obscure handwriting I could muster up while shaking with nerves. I was sure everyone knew it was me when they read it out as I felt like my face turned purple with shame.

There was a long pause. I was done for. This was such a weird question I could tell by the teacher’s hesitation and the looks around the room by the students. I was the only one that felt like this. FUCK.

“…That’s...ok...” she finally replied “it’s ok to think your friends are attractive. That doesn’t mean anything. I think lots of my friends are pretty” the teacher looked to the other one for backup.

“Oh yes, yes, me too, that’s fine, completely normal. I think Mrs Wallace is very pretty”

“Oh, I think you are very pretty too Mrs George” and they laughed and moved on to the next question.

I didn’t move on. I didn’t hear any of the other questions or answers. All I could hear was the voice in my head telling me that I had asked a stupid question. Why did I even think it was a good idea to let that out of the bag?? Secretly though, I felt I little release. I had finally said what I was thinking and hearing it out loud made me realise that I did indeed have ‘feelings’, they just weren’t for boys.