Crushed

Do you remember your first crush? I do. Bruce. His family lived two doors down from us. He was sweet, always smelled of playdoh and had the cutest freckles. I used to let him ride my big green caterpillar...remember those? We were three when we met. Ahhh, young love. (Funny story: Years later, I was in college, working at Darryl's and guess who worked there too? My Bruce. Yes, he still made me giggle, no he no longer smelled like playdoh, and the freckles? Still there, still cute.)

Throughout elementary school and junior high, crushes came and went, most I have forgotten. The high school crushes I remember more. I can close my eyes and imagine myself at the skating rink, the heady mix of Galaga and strobe lights and Foreigner songs made for some intense feelings.

Yesterday on Facebook, I dared my friends to admit their high-school crushes. Some answered...some refused to answer...some just thought I'd opened a big can of worms. (One friend, now my favorite friend, said me...was hoping SOMEONE would...thanks T, you made my day!)

I thought about crushes all day: who, and why we never tell. Why is it so hard to say, "Hey, I like you"? Back then, with my mouth full of braces and my hair teased to high-heaven and my ability to walk right into any given wall, crushes were painful. There is, after all, a reason they're called crushes. No way I'd ever tell, no way he'd ever like someone like me. I'm sure, at some point, we've all felt that way. Even the cool kids (the kids we THOUGHT were cool) probably had their insecurities.

But now, all of us are older, wiser and hopefully more confident, what's our excuse? Why is it so difficult to put ourselves out there? I'm not just talking about dating here--although to me, dating was always a bit difficult--it seems no matter how far we come, inside each of us lives that still-shy adolescent. Life's too short to hold back. I don't want to just sit on the sidelines listening to music...I want to dance! Even if I embarass myself, I want to dance!

Part of the fun of Facebook is reconnecting with people from your past, friends from school or old jobs or cities where you used to live, those who used to be friends but now are memories. I've had the most fun reconnecting and I say this all the time---cause it's true--the best part about owning my own shop is that I never know who will come walking in!

Sometimes a childhood friend will stop by, sometimes it's someone that used to take dance lessons from me, sometimes it's a brother or sister or aunt or grandmother of someone I used to know. It really is a small world.

And sometimes, the someone who walks in is an old crush. For a moment, the lights dim, the strobelight flickers, and somewhere faint in the distance I hear Foreigner sing, "I've been waiting for a girl like you..." That someone walks in and I'm back to that nervous-silly-flirty girl of fifteen. Gone is grown-up Wendy. Gone is confident Wendy. Let me see an old crush, and I'm back to talking too much, constantly fussing with my hair, embarrassingly awkward, Wendy.

I've decided to adopt a new rule: Tell them. Put it out there. I've decided that life is too short. The people I like are going to know I like them.

No, I'm not gonna leave my husband and go chasing after every old high-school crush. But that feeling--that warm, dizzy feeling you get when you just really "connect" with someone--I don't want to forget that feeling. I'm gonna let people (men and women) know how I feel. Even if I'm embarrassed, I'm gonna wear my heart on sleeve.

And maybe listen to my Foreigner records a little more...