I recently bought a new laptop and was sorting through my old files. I came across a folder of articles I wrote five years ago and giggled a little to myself.
My very own time capsule of a 22-year-old me.
I thought it would be fitting to republish them in the lead up to my wedding to a guy I wouldn’t have dreamed existed.
For those still looking for love, I hope these stories help you see it’s not always sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes love hurts but from this, we grow and find something a lot more meaningful.
28-year-old me now realises that each life stage plays a part in laying a foundation. Without the previous experience, you’re not able to build something solid.
Stay tuned for when my soon-to-be husband pops up in the coming weeks!
Happy reading!
– tgfs x
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Think of the expression “Falling in Love.” To me, it’s such an unsympathetic phrase and carries an amount of danger with it.
Falling is never a fun experience. It sends your heart into a flutter, you’re disorientated and at times you hope no one around you noticed. Come to think of it, falling is the perfect word to describe love, especially your first.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure the love I shared with my year eight MSN boyfriend would inspire the next great romance novel. But, my first real love kind of happened by accident.
Ok let’s take it back to 2006.
Justin was bringing sexy back and thick leather belts cinched our waists. It was the eve of my 15th birthday and I had a major crush on a guy.
So as any 15-year-old would be, I was infatuated with the idea of having a boyfriend. Drawing his name in my diary dotting his I’s with love hearts and showing off his display name which I so happened to make a starring role.
His best friend and my best friend were dating so we thought it’d be fun if we did too. Turns out he only planned on committing to the summer holidays.
Well, the school term started again and passed, months turned into years. Before we knew it we had hit seven years together.
We grew up together and knew every single detail about each other. He could tell the difference between when I was Hangry or bothered by something and acted swiftly to remedy.
I remember one night I asked him if we loved each other so much because we were so compatible or simply because we’d grown up with each other.
We were able to fill in the pieces the other was missing. He was always running late. He was relaxed and calm in stressful situations, me the contrary.
We grew to complement each other and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
But, we began to drift and found ourselves in a difficult place to come back from. Being together from such a young age pulled on the curiosity strings of our parachutes. Based on our later conversations, one of us wanted to explore the world for themselves, alone, before taking the next step.
So what happens after you’ve fallen in love? Eventually, you hit the ground right?
Gravity can be a bitch and when you hit the ground, boy do you hit it hard. When you lose the ying to your yang, the Big to your Carrie or the Micky to your Minnie it leaves you feeling kind of empty.
In the past, I’ve described the feeling as being hijacked by teeny, tiny break up ninjas. They hide in the shadows waiting to roundhouse kick you with a big fat reminder that you were almost happy. Now the moment is gone.
It’s been almost a full year since I learnt to live with the Ninjas (I have to say my brain karate has levelled up to black belt) and although I am happy with where I am in my life.
I have found the silver lining out of the situation.
I may still cringe when certain songs on my iPhone play or I see the same model car as his cruising down the street (why he had to buy Sydney’s most popular car in the most popular colour continues to drive me crazy) but I have been ashamed to admit that I still miss him from time to time.
Sometimes I wonder how old my sister’s soul is, she may be 20, but her advice far exceeded a woman of 30 or 40. I confided in her last week the secret that he still crosses my mind from time to time. I wish for is that I could call him up and tell him all about my day.
She looked me in the eyes and told me that no one ever forgets their first love. I made up this idea that we’re only given one chance at finding the right person, and I managed to lose him so what if I never get another shot?
This idea is toxic and when I stopped believing it I started to see the world and myself differently. Life isn’t a fairy tale and rarely do you end up with the first person you fall in love with, and I am actually ok with this idea now.
In life, we have many firsts, our first steps, our first words, our first time riding a bike, our first love. Each milestone leaves a monumental footprint in our lives or at least paving the way to do so.
Falling in love for the first time is an experience like no other. There’s a reason why literature, songs, movies and even our whole lives revolve around finding that someone special. Someone to share your life with.
The hardest thing is to look back on the past with the happiness that it happened rather than sadness that it is no more. We try so hard to play the tough guy and pretend we’re over him’ but we’re only human and we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over the feelings we have.
Sure I hit the ground hard. I still have a few cuts and bruises healing, but I now like to look at my first love like I do my first steps.
It was a huge stage in my life, but it was the first steps that paved the way for me to learn to walk and run.
For the first time, I am looking forward to running to the next stage in my life.
The story has been tidied up a little but is the original content published in 2014.
That Girl from Sydney 