Don't Let Crushes Crush You

Don't Let Crushes Crush You

by Bill Knell

When I was a kid, I was hit with the one-two punch of early puberty and emotional attachments, a.k.a. crushes. I suppose that most people get these and at all ages. We see, we like and try to act on that input. Some just can't control their reaction to a crush and that was me.

Starting out without siblings and having TV as my babysitter gave me an altered and incorrect version of human interactions. People responsible for attracting viewers to network TV shows presented programming that they considered to be something the majority of people would want to watch.

In the 1960s most of the comedy and drama shows did not mirror reality, they changed it to narratives representing a more utopian viewpoint. The actors they hired had to meet certain stereotypes that producers felt were the most attractive to viewers. Like us, but better or worse depending on the storyline.

Because America is a nation of diversity, Networks tried their best to illustrate that mix on TV. However, there were still all the old prejudices and outdated standards to deal with. In the end what viewers ended up with was often silly or unrealistic storylines and characters. Sadly, it was those that shaped my early views of how to act with other people.

I grew up on Long Island in a suburban community. I loved to read and listen to stories on record. When I began venturing out, I met a boy named Richie who lived in a home adjacent to our house. We were the same age and had some things in common. I became kind of obsessed with him and my constant need for his companionship eventually drove him away.

When I started school a kid named Dennis and I became fast friends in Kindergarten. We had some things in common and he reminded me of a boy on one of the TV shows I watched. My teacher disliked how much time we spent together and did her best to separate us. When that failed, she decided to send me a message.

For weeks, when it came time for milk and cookies, she conveniently ran out just before she got to me. I was never quick tempered, so I let it go on for awhile before alerting my parents. When they tried to intervene, she came up with some lame excuse. 

Seeing that no one at the school cared what my sadistic teacher was up to, my folks simply sent me to school each day with my own snack and milk. Despite my obsessive behavior, I was obviously not to blame. As kids we are who we are.

Most of the kids in my neighborhood had early puberty. One was Jayne who became an early friend. She was my age and, like me, had no siblings. For that reason and others, we got along really well. From my standpoint Jayne resembled yet another TV character I liked with her dark brown hair, freckled face and body, and sweet nature. As young kids we even played doctor, which was an eye opening experience for both of us.

By ten we were making out when no one was around. By eleven she became my unofficial girlfriend and we started dating. We went to movies, roller skating and so on. Then it happened. Her family moved away and I was devastated. My crush had been crushed.

A good luck fairy brought my older cousin Ingrid to live with us and she become my sister shortly after Jayne moved. We always got along and I loved her as a sister. I constantly spent time with her, but was taken aback when she started dating. That was less time she could spend with me.

I slowly began to see that I was far too easily swayed in all I did by crushes. I was lucky because many “needy” people never see that as a problem until they've been through a ton of relationships and several marriages. Even then some never figure it out.

My fix was slow and painful. First, I learned that just because someone I saw was very attractive to me, didn't mean we should hook up. In many cases that was all there was, with no intellectual commonalities at all. Second, I had to break out of the dating and relationship practices I learned from TV and films. I look back and cringe at some of the things I said and did with my dates. I just didn't know better.

Realization of past mistakes and unbecoming behavior can help to control crushes. I learned not to be “all in” on each new crush I had. This fix is not guaranteed to remove crushes, just control them. It's also not going to be easy or without some emotional upset. However, in the long run it will give needy people a chance to live better lives.



Kailey Fields offers readers fresh and very human fiction stories that are unique, yet relatable.


The seeds of her self-doubt had been sown in her early years. She'd been relentlessly bullied in school for being different, for her passion for gaming, which had been dismissed as a “boy thing.” That hurt had left deep scars. Creating Lemonade had been a shield, a way to deflect the negativity she faced in the real world. It was a safe space where she could be celebrated for her skills, her wit, and her personality, instead of facing ridicule.


The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Each step crunched on the forest floor, a sound amplified in the suffocating silence of the Blackwood Forest. My breath hitched in my throat, a thin plume of white mist disappearing into the inky blackness. The only light came from my lantern, a feeble spark against the overwhelming darkness that pressed in from all sides, swallowing the forest in its shadowy embrace. Above, the branches of ancient trees twisted like skeletal fingers, their gnarled silhouettes scratching at the moonless sky.

ebook, paperback or hardcover


The darkness claimed me, swallowing me whole. But in death, a twisted metamorphosis occurred. The venom of betrayal, the searing agony of death, transformed into a cold, unrelenting fire. I became a specter, an instrument of vengeance. The chilling weight of my decomposing body became a burden that fueled my relentless pursuit.

kindle, paperback or hardcover


Grandma Elara's tales filled the quiet evenings at her house. The aroma of woodsmoke and simmering herbs hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of old books and the comforting warmth of her presence. Her cozy old house seemed to hum with a gentle energy, a place where ancient stories and timeless secrets intertwined. The antique furniture, each piece telling a story of its own, seemed to come alive as she spun her tales, the very atmosphere of the house adding to the mystique of the Ceasg and its watery realm.

kindle, paperback or hardcover


Cerelia, a museum employee with a penchant for the obscure and a healthy dose of skepticism tempered by an insatiable curiosity, had been cleaning the newly acquired collection of ancient artifacts. She was meticulous, and painstaking in her work, a sharp contrast to the hurried pace of the city outside the museum walls. She liked the quiet solitude of the museum, a world apart from the noisy urban jungle. She found solace in the relics of the past, each object whispering a story of bygone eras.

kindle, paperback or hardcover


Aislinn felt it too, a growing sense of unease, not just from the tales of a missing Prince, but from the visions teased by the necklace. The shadowed figure, the one with piercing eyes and a cruel smile,haunted her dreams and even invaded her waking moments. He was connected to the necklace, a palpable sense of threat radiating from the glowing pendant. The prince's fate, she now realized, was entwined with her own. And somewhere, a darkness waited, a darkness that the necklace seemed both to warn her about and guide her towards. The quiet village of Oakhaven, with its familiar rhythms and predictable patterns, could no longer contain her. 



The seeds of her self-doubt had been sown in her early years. She'd been relentlessly bullied in school for being different, for her passion for gaming, which had been dismissed as a “boy thing.” That hurt had left deep scars. Creating Lemonade had been a shield, a way to deflect the negativity she faced in the real world. It was a safe space where she could be celebrated for her skills, her wit, and her personality, instead of facing ridicule.

paperback



She traced the lines on her palm, searching for a familiar scar, a birthmark, anything to tether herself to a stable identity. Nothing. Even her own body felt slightly different, as if her reflection in the warped mirror across the room was an imposter. The subtle variations – the way her hair fell, a new freckle on her cheek, the faintest shift in her eyes – were enough to unsettle her further. It was as if she was perpetually teetering on the edge of a precipice, the ground constantly shifting beneath her feet.

eBook, paperback or hardcover

 . . check this out...

     Visit Sex Subjects Bookstore


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

www.BillKnellsWorld.com

Bill Knell's Bookstore