Tag Archives: grade school

Recounting The First Time I Felt Attracted To A Girl

7 Most Important Social Skills for Kids

We all have certain moments in our lives that really stick out. As adults, we tend to remember these moments vividly. Sometimes, we even know when a particular moment is going to stick with us for years to come. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, getting your dream job, or meeting that special someone, we can remember every little detail and understand why it matters.

When we’re kids, it’s just not the same. Those moments don’t impact us in quite the same way. It’s just a byproduct of being a kid. You’re young and inexperienced. You have no idea how one particular moment will affect you for years to come.

However, there’s often one particular moment in every kid’s life that heavily informs how their adult life plays out. It has to do with that special part of growing up where you start feeling real attraction to someone else. It doesn’t manifest the same way with every kid, but whether they’re straight, gay, bisexual, or something else entirely, it still happens and it can be overwhelming.

Some people can pin down the exact moment when they started feeling attracted to someone. For others, it’s a messier process. Suddenly, you start looking at others in a very different way. You know what love is. You feel it from your family. However, this is something very different.

One moment, you think members of the opposite sex are icky and gross.

The next, you find yourself drawn to them in a profound way.

I don’t care how well-adjusted you are as a kid. That’s going to be confusing, overwhelming, and even a little scary. It’s often one of the first real signs that we’re growing up. We’re starting to become adults.

In that spirit, I’d like to share another personal story about the moment I first felt attracted to a girl. I promise it’s not too crazy or extreme in any way. It’s just one of those parts of my life that I didn’t realize was such a big deal until many years later. I suspect others might have had a similar experience. Theirs might even be more eventful than mine. Whatever their story, I hope this one helps others appreciate those experiences.

To set the stage, this moment took place when I was in the fourth grade. I remember it more vividly than most my elementary school experience. Part of that was because I had this really charismatic teacher. He was such a fun guy and he definitely made school less mundane. He also was big on letting everyone socialize. He was less inclined to lecture us and more inclined to give us activities that we could do in groups.

I certainly didn’t mind that. It beat reading textbooks. However, this also coincided with a time in my life when my social awkwardness really took hold. As I’ve noted before, my social skills have always been sub-par. Even as a kid, I really struggled to make friends, connect with people, and develop lasting connections.

On top of all that, I was somewhat obnoxious at that age. My parents and siblings can attest to this. When I was in the fourth grade, I wasn’t always drawing inside the lines, so to speak. I had a tendency to overreact to things and I didn’t always think before I spoke. While that never got me into serious trouble, it did further compound my social awkwardness.

Then, add being attracted to girls to the mix. It’s hard to put into words just how much that complicated things.

Now, I want to say I was a bit more prepared than most when it came to girls, albeit not by much. Unlike a lot of other boys my age, I never went through a “girls have cooties” stage. I also never went through a period where I thought girls were gross or anything like that.

It helped that I had friends who were girls. Some of my closest cousins were girls. I never saw them as this strange mystery. They were just other people with different body parts. That was it.

It also helped I got along better with girls than boys at that time. At lunch, I would often sit at a table populated by girls. It wasn’t because I was attracted to them. I just didn’t make a lot of friends with the boys. Plus, a lot of the boys I knew in the 4th grade were annoying.

I was comfortable with this setup for the most part. Then, something strange happened with this girl I had sat near during the latter part of the year. I won’t give her name, out of respect for her privacy. I’ll just call her Sue.

Sue was a nice girl with a bright smile and short brown hair. I distinctly remember her laughing a lot. She had a great sense of humor and she appreciated dirty jokes more than most girls. Naturally, I became friendly with her and she became friendly with me. We weren’t exactly close, but we liked being around each other.

In the beginning, I just saw her the same way I had seen so many other girls. She was a friend and I liked her. That was it.

Towards the end of the school year, though, I started feeling something more. I started looking at her differently. I distinctly remember getting a strange feeling around her that I didn’t get around other girls. At first, I thought I was just being obnoxious again. Eventually, I realized it was something more.

I was actually attracted to this girl.

I was really, sincerely drawn to her in a way that was legitimately romantic.

Granted, there’s only so much romantic sentiment a 4th grader could feel, but I knew it was there. Reading superhero comics with romantic sub-plots helped me recognize the signs. I still wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with it. I didn’t really talk about it at first.

However, I do remember one distinct moment in the late spring where I made this comment out of the blue during a class activity. It had been a joke, albeit a very bad one. I don’t remember all the details. I just remember referencing Beth by name and making it clear that I was attracted to her.

She laughed.

The whole class laughed.

I felt so embarrassed that my face blushed bright red.

At the time, I really felt stupid. Perhaps it was for the best that after that year, I never saw Beth again. I know she still went to the same school, but she ended up in other classes. I honestly don’t know if she remembers me or what I said. However, I doubt I’ll ever forget her.

She was very much a turning point in my young life. She was the first girl I looked at and felt real, tangible attraction. I knew what these feelings were and I knew they were more adult than kid. It was really the first sign that I was starting to transfer from kid to adult. While I still had to endure some horribly awkward teenage years, that moment marked the first step.

For that, I’ll always be grateful to Beth. I don’t know if she understood those feelings or if she ever felt that way about me. As I’ve gotten older, though, I’ve come to appreciate that moment and the part she played.

That’s my unique story about the first moment I felt attracted to a girl. I know it’s somewhat tame, but I still felt it was worth sharing. If anyone else has a similar story that they’d like to share, please do so in the comments. These moments are profound points in our lives. They’re worth sharing, but they’re also worth learning from.

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Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights, real stories, romance

The Moment I Knew Puberty Began For Me

In life, there are certain moments when you know you’ve reached a certain milestone. Sometimes, it’s obvious. From the first time you drive a car to the first time you kiss someone who isn’t your mother, they stand out in your memory. It’s not always pleasant. Some moments are more awkward than others, but they mark a major change in your life.

Going through puberty is one of those things that generates more awkward moments than most. I challenge anyone to recount their transformation from kid to adult without at least one part being awkward. I’ve shared a few stories from my youth, some being a lot more awkward than others. I can laugh about them now, but they marked critical points in my life that have only become more relevant as I’ve gotten older.

For most of us, there’s no one single point when we know we’ve entered puberty. You don’t just wake up one day and know that you’re a teenager now. All those crazy mental and physical changes don’t happen all at once. If they did, few of us would survive the process with our sanity intact.

That said, there are some moments that, in hindsight, mark a particular point in your life when you realize that this transformation has become. You’ve crossed the point of no return. You’re becoming a teenager now. Eventually, you’ll become an adult. It can be daunting, but it’s a part of life.

In that spirit, I’d like to share a particular moment that still stands out to me after all these years. It’s a moment in which I realized that I wasn’t a kid anymore. Puberty has begun and there’s no going back. At that moment, it was just a strange realization that I discounted. However, over time, it became a turning point.

It happened while I was in the fifth grade. It was late spring. We had just come back from Spring Break. The weather had finally gotten nice enough to enjoy recess without heavy jackets. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I was just glad I could stop dressing in layers.

On this particular day, though, it was very humid. Coming back from recess, everyone was a lot sweatier than usual. Being kids, we didn’t care. We were just glad to get outside and away from book reports. I don’t remember much else about what happened that day, but I can vividly recall what happened the moment we returned to class.

As soon as we sat down at our tests and my teacher got to the front of the room, she made an impromptu announcement that will forever echo in my memory.

“You all, stink.”

I swear I’m not paraphrasing. That’s exactly what my teacher told us. She was an credibly blunt, straightforward woman. She didn’t mince words and this was one instance in which they couldn’t be sugarcoated.

She took a good five minutes of class time to give an impromptu lecture on how much we smell. She wasn’t polite about it. She just said in every possible way that we really smell and we need to start using deodorant. Past teachers have told us we smelled before, but never like this. It was the first time in which I became mindful of body odor.

I was really taken aback by this, as were plenty of classmates. Keep in mind, we’re all just 5th graders. We still see ourselves as kids and not teenagers. Some were more mature than others, but we were still kids at heart. I certainly felt that way. After this, however, that changed.

When I left class that day, it started to sink in. I was going through puberty. At that point, I knew what it was. I’d taken a health class. My parents also told me about it, too. I just didn’t think it would happen for another couple years. When I looked in the mirror, I still saw a kid. Now, I took note of some very real changes.

Body odor was just one. At the same time, I started noticing acne and body hair. It was very subtle. It didn’t happen all at once, but after that day, I became much more aware of it. By the time I got to middle school, I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was a teenager at that point. That fateful day in the 5th grade was just the first time I realized it.

I’ve come to appreciate that moment more and more over the years. I still had many difficulties, as most kids do when they become teenagers. Some were more manageable than others. I probably could’ve handled it better, in hindsight. However, it’s still remarkable to think that it all began with that one fateful day.

Do you have a day like that? Is there one particular moment in which you realized puberty had begun for you? If so, please share it in the comments.

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Filed under health, Jack Fisher's Insights, men's issues

Recalling The Time I Felt Most Emasculated

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Everybody has a few low points in their lives that they would prefer to forget. Even the richest, most privileged among us have moments where they feel like a wounded deer in a den of hungry wolves. I’ve certainly had my share of those days. While the pain they’ve caused me has waned over the years, I still remember them as clearly as they day they happened.

Talking about those moments is never easy. Most are content to keep them buried in the past and not think about them, a tactic favored by eccentric mad scientist cartoon characters. However, I believe there is some therapeutic value to revisiting those moments. Some of them can even offer insights that are more relevant today than they were when they happened.

In that spirit, I’d like to share one the greatest low points I ever had. What makes it relevant, though, isn’t that it was just especially bad. This one particular point marked the time in my life when I felt most emasculated, as a man.

Seeing as how I’ve talked a great deal about masculinity, from the way it has been demonized by ongoing social trends to the double standards that affect it, I think moments like this stand out more than they would have in previous years. I’ve even found myself recalling these moments more lately, but this particular moment tends to hit me the hardest.

To understand this memory and why it left me feeling so emasculated, I need to establish the situation. It takes place back when I was in grade school, specifically the fifth grade. That’s an important detail because this is a time when most kids are on the cusp of puberty and just learning what it means to mature from a kid to an adult.

Even before this particular event, I wasn’t handling that transition as well as I’d hoped. I had some attitude problems back then. I wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but I had a nasty habit of getting defensive. I would take things way too personally and overreact way too easily, even by the standards of a fifth grader.

As a result, this left me with few friends and more than a few enemies. I won’t say they were outright bullies, but they were close and I did everything I could go to goad them. My social skills were just that poor and my insecurities were just that great.

All those issues culminated near the end of the school year when my class took part in this big Civil War project that was supposed to be fun. The way it worked was we all picked names out of a hat to represent notable Civil War figures. Then, we would act out those roles in a make-shift activities, the last one being this big mock battle outside using water balloons.

It should’ve been fun. It was late May, the weather was warm, and we’d have an excuse throwing water balloons at each other. For me, though, it turned into one of the worst moments of my pre-adult life. I still consider it one of the most damaging moments of my life, to date.

Back when we were picking names out of a hat, I had the misfortune of picking the name of a woman. The name of the woman was Louisa May Alcott and, for all the wrong reasons, I’ve come to shutter at that name. That’s not to criticize her place in history, but picking that name really made that project a nightmare.

I tried to get another name, but my teacher wouldn’t let me. In hindsight, I could understand why. There were a lot of girls in that class stuck with male roles and there were only a few female roles to go around. I couldn’t even trade with someone. She basically told me to suck it up and go with it.

That, alone, was tough because I was the only boy in that class stuck with a female role. Needless to say, I got made fun of pretty quickly. Thanks to my attitude and immaturity at the time, I did everything possible to make it worse.

Throughout the project, I felt very uncomfortable playing this role and didn’t do a very good job. No matter what I did, I just gave everyone another reason to make fun of me and I reacted in a way that just gave them more incentive. In many ways, it was my fault for letting it get that bad. There were easy solutions, though, and my teachers never did a damn thing to help me.

Finally, on the day of the water balloon fight, it all came to ahead. I had already been in a bad mood that day and I did a lousy job of hiding it. As a result, I heard some kids talking about how they’d gang up on me and target me alone with their water balloons. It left me genuinely scared that I was going to be completely humiliated.

That might have been paranoia on my part, but it was more than enough to make me sit it out. When we were lining up to start the water balloon fight, I slipped away and sat down near the back wall of the school. I don’t remember if I told my teacher. I’m pretty sure I got knocked down a grade for not participating, but I wasn’t thinking about that.

However, that wasn’t the worst part. Shortly after the water balloon fight started, some of the kids from my class started mocking me from far. They started calling out, “Hi Louisa!” None of them ran up to me and threw their water balloon at me, but the damage had been done.

It was at that moment, all those kids laughing at me and calling me that woman’s name, where the distress I felt turned into outright emasculation. Make no mistake. There is a difference. Just being embarrassed is hard enough for anyone. Being emasculated, though, feels much more personal.

Regardless of how you feel about gender being a social construct or the faults in masculine standards, our gender is very much a part of who we are. Being a man is part of who I am, more so than me being a comic book fan or an aspiring erotica/romance writer. When I feel like that part of me is under attack, the damage runs much deeper.

Hearing those voices from my classmates and the laughter that followed didn’t just make me feel upset, sad, and angry. I suddenly felt less than human, lacking the qualities of men and women alike. I had no sense of worth, dignity, or identity. I felt like a wounded animal, just waiting to get eaten.

I tried to shut it out. I just kept my head down and stared at my shoes the entire time, trying with all my might not to break down and cry on the spot. I managed to avoid that, thankfully. I don’t doubt that would’ve made the moment even worse.

I’m also grateful that one of the school counselors stopped by and sat next to me. I think her presence was what stopped the chanting. She talked to me, but I don’t remember her saying anything that made me feel better. I just sat there and waited for the day to end.

Eventually, it did. I got through it and moved forward, but that moment still left quite a few scars that took a long time to heal. After that day, I became much more of a shut-in. I stopped talking in class. I stopped trying to make friends. I basically shut myself off as much as possible, saying as little as I could to get through the day.

I’m not saying that moment was completely responsible for my poor social skills, which would carry on through high school where a terrible acne problem helped compound my situation. However, I do think it set the tone. It damaged my sense of self, both in terms of my gender and of the person I was growing into.

It took a long time and a lot of work, complete with the undying support of my friends and family, to recover from that moment. When I think back on it now, I feel like it has greater meaning at a time when masculinity is seen as inherently negative. Having had my masculinity attacked at one point, I understand how damaging it can be.

These days, it’s not uncommon to hear people decry and demean men, as a whole. There have been women who advocated for the outright murder of men. They’ve been brushed off, not unlike how my teachers brushed off my discomfort on that fateful day. However, if a man even shows a hint of misogyny, they’re outright vilified. Just ask Henry Cavill.

That gives the impression that it’s okay to make a man feel emasculated, but you’re an outright monster if you make a woman feel offended in any way. It’s as though our gender determines how much compassion we get. That’s not just unfair. That’s unjust to an egregious extent.

I’ve since come to terms with what happened that day. I acknowledge that I was responsible for how parts of it played out, but there were also factors I couldn’t control and it hurt me on a deeply personal level. I don’t doubt for a second that plenty of men out there have found themselves in similar positions, feeling so low and utter unmasculine that it’s downright traumatic.

Nobody deserves to feel that way, regardless of their gender. I hope that by sharing my experience, other men will feel comfortable sharing theirs as well. There may still be those who hear stories like this and roll their eyes, thinking a man’s pain just cannot compare to that of a woman or someone who is transgender. To those people, I would say that pain is pain. It doesn’t care about your gender. It still hurts all the same.

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Filed under gender issues, human nature, Jack Fisher's Insights, psychology, sex in society, sexuality