High school was a rough start. Despite becoming a new me over the summer, I was met with more ridicule than middle school had ever caused me. The girls hated me. It’s like I’d become the “pretty new girl” in school that might steal everyone’s boyfriend. The crazy part was, I was so innocent. I was still my nerdy, glasses and braces, Backstreet Boy-loving self on the inside. I was still shy, and inexperienced in the social department. No boy had ever liked me. I’d never been kissed. Which is why I was shocked the day I heard the first rumor about me – that I was a “SLUT!” I so desperately wanted to go around the school and tell each person, “I’ve never even kissed anyone!” Actually, I can remember one girl calling me a slut at lunch, and I’m pretty sure I did say that to her. It didn’t matter. It didn’t help things at all. Eventually, more people joined in. It’s what you do in high school. Self-preservation. You just join the crowd. Plus, what’s the best way to stop the boys you like from thinking someone else is cute? You say, “HER?! Are you kidding me? Get your eyes checked. She’s not cute. She’s UGLY. And she’s a slut! ”
If there’s anything middle school taught me though, it was that I could put up with bullying. I had no idea how bad it would get, but when the name calling started, I reminded myself that I could bear it. I’d already done it before. On the plus side, however, there was one good thing going on at school. I was getting noticed – by the boys! I noticed it a little as I walked the hallways, but I’d talk myself out of it. I’d think, It’s a joke. They’re gonna make fun of me. They don’t really think I’m cute. After all, after my three-year crush in middle school found out, I was made fun of by the entire lunch table. Ewww Ashley Bendiksennnnn! Ha! Ha! Ha! Boys didn’t like me.
But then it started to feel real. I noticed it more and more. Yes, boys would stare and smile and laugh a little, but it was different. They weren’t making fun of me anymore, and it felt amazing. I was so excited at the idea that I might finally have a boyfriend of my own, just like the other girls did, that it might actually happen after years of telling myself it would never happen for me.
So when it was time for my first high school dance, I was ready. After years and years of sitting on bleachers, never being asked to dance by anyone, this was my time. I knew it. My dad gave me a small allowance again, and I went out and bought an outfit for the Homecoming dance. Nervous and excited, I got ready for my big night. I did my hair and make-up, slipped into my new black top and purple skirt, and then I got dropped off at the dance.
I remember walking in, walking up the long stretch of stairs up to the gym, my heart racing, thinking I might finally get to dance with a boy. I was going to TOUCH a boy! Most of the night, of course, was spent huddling in a corner with my best friend. We’d do weird dance moves, or make weird faces, before looking around to make sure no one saw us, then crack up. Thank god for my best friend. (We still do this today).
Then, suddenly, we were standing near the bleachers. There weren’t too many people around us. The air was cool, and there was low blue lighting swirling around, almost spotlighting us, and I just remember feeling really exposed. I looked around, and that’s when I met eyes with a boy standing with his friends about fifty feet away from us. I blushed then turned away. Then I looked back, and he was still staring at me. “Oh my god. Look behind me, to the right. No! The right!,” I said as my friend started looking all around, making it entirely obvious! “AH! He is looking at you!,” she screamed. “Shhh!!! Oh my god! I hate you!” But she was right! He was. And I was excited. I knew who he was. I’d seen him around school and already thought he was cute. He was on the baseball team and a year older than me.
Before I knew it, he was walking my way. My heart raced. It’s happening! It’s happening! And he asked me to dance. And that, right there, was my first dance with a boy. I remember the feel of his dress shirt under my hands, what it was like being so close to a boy’s neck, the smell of his cologne, how exciting it felt every slow song later when he asked me to dance again, and we got closer every time. By the end of the dance, he asked for my phone number, and he became my first boyfriend.
When I told this story at a school recently, the students, collectively, said “Awwww.” I wish that’s how things had gone. “Oh… just wait!,” I said, which got me an uproar of laughs. The sad truth is that my first relationship would go horribly wrong, as you’ve probably already guessed. But this is how bad stories begin, with beautiful beginnings. Nothing is wrong at first. There are no warning signs. Everything seems amazing. Then, when things do happen, it’s confusing and complicated and hard to understand. Just when you begin to trust someone, they can break that trust. They can do things you’d never imagine them capable of doing.
Next week, I’ll share what unfolded in the months that followed. I’ll fill you in on that first incident and how I was introduced to “love.”
About: Ashley Bendiksen is a top youth motivational speaker and prevention educator. A survivor speaker and renowned expert in teen dating violence, domestic violence, and sexual assault prevention, Ashley is available as a speaker for middle schools, high schools, colleges, and youth conferences for both students and adults who serve them. She is also a professional development speaker for first responders, victim services providers, and workplaces. Request Ashley to speak.