I May Have Been a Preteen Stalker

Didn’t we all have adolescent obsessions that bordered on stalking or was that just me?  This story will make your embarrassing moments seem way less embarrassing!  It’s that bad, I’ve never spoken of it.

As you may have noticed from some of my posts, I have a flair for the dramatic.  I recall an experience of such exaggerated intensity with my first crush.  For the sake of the blog and the fact that some of my readers will know him, I’ll call him Eric, Eric Axel.  This pseudonym is not exactly cryptic, it‘s about 2 letters off from his actual name.  Look, I pursued him like an obsessed stalker, I’m sure it’s no surprise to him.

This was old school stalking I’m referring to.  Anyone and everyone stalks now a days — moderen technology: cell phones,  FB,  twitter,  my space, youtube, linkedin — it’s not even impressive.  No, I’m talking about the kind of stalking that took time and effort and premeditation, something to tell your grandchildren about.

So, I’m gonna rip off the Band-Aid, that is this repressed memory, and let the healing begin.  I was in the 7th grade …and I was in love.  “Love” love. Eric went to another school.  He was cute.  He was athletic.  He was cool.  He was mean to me.  What other reasons could there be for a 12yr old girl to fall in love?

I think I called him 20 times a day, 10 of which, I just hung up.  I’m sure the lack of caller ID and *69 really fooled him and his parents.  Other times we would talk for hours.  If I skipped a day, which rarely happened, he would call me.  As much as he “hated” my harassment, he grew accustomed to it, and missed my creepy declarations of undying love.

He invited me to his basketball games and his school play, which I went to like a puppy dog, only to be heartbreakingly ignored.  He would show up at my softball games, watch and then leave without saying hello.   I was happy to get all the negative attention, cause lets face it, it wasn’t indifference.  I was also too young to understand that the invitations and surprise visits said something on his part.

Then he invited me to a movie, my first date.  In a million years I don’t think I would remember what we saw.  Oh yea, Space Camp.  Okay so I remember. I also don’t remember if he held my hand and maybe felt me up (over the shirt).  That was a little slutty of me, I know, but love has no boundaries.   Well, just a training bra.

Exciting stuff right?  It actually gets worse.  The story thus far may have coaxed out some old painful memories of angst and torment.  Memories, that you have buried somewhere in the recesses of your mind, and cringe at, when they emerge.    However, my story will make you feel like you can unrepress and visit them with ease.

We made more plans and of course my infatuation only intensified.  I went to his Bar Mitzvah and the other kids had mentioned that he was dating a girl from his school.  “What? Huh???” I found the nearest bathroom and cried, and bawled, and sniffled, and gurgled under the crushing pain.  I walked out to find a boy I was friendly with and in a dramatic twist, I told him I was going to kill myself.  Oh, relax I meant it in the “If that happens I’d just kill myself” kinda way.  Trust me, I didn’t really get what I was saying or the weight of that statement, nor did I imagine a bunch of 12 year olds would take me seriously.

Well, before I knew it the entire kids portion of the Bar Mitzvah was in the lobby of his country club trying to console me and make sure I didn’t do anything drastic.  “Hide the butter knives!“  someone yelled in the frenzy of “child” psychologists — while the parents danced unwittingly inside.  The children were saving me from myself.  Ahh, this feels good, this attention, this love, this concern.   But it’s not enough. When will Eric come over and profess that it was me all along?  That he was so worried about me doing something drastic?

He didn’t.  Actually he did, though I believe it was to ask what the hell I was doing and find out why no one was inside during his candle lighting ceremony, which he worked really hard on writing.  Even more mortifying, he was followed by a concerned parent, as word of my threat had made it to the upper echelon of invitees.

You probably want to crawl into a hole just reading this, so you can imagine the humiliation of living it, but it happened.  We all have those moments that we wish we could suck back, or wake up from and say, “Phew, that was just a dream.”  Well, that was one of mine.  One of, because I have volumes of mistakes, faux pas, blunders, and errors in judgment that shaped the confident, brilliant, humble, and perfect in every way adult I have become.

I look back and think, if only I could have used the skills I mastered just a few short years later. I would have backed off, invoked insecurity, and gained the upper hand.  Those were feminine wiles I learned out of necessity, as clearly my ability to obsess would not get me far with the boys.  Tricks my father taught me in lieu of some seriously deserved psychiatric analysis. “Jenny, just remember, the boys like a challenge.”  He was right.  To this day I’ve never met a boy that didn’t fill that bill.

If you haven’t yet, check out my new piece on Huff Po Parents: 11 Phrases We Should Teach Our Children

19 thoughts on “I May Have Been a Preteen Stalker

  1. weezafish

    Oh. My. Word. That boy really played with your emotions, stalker chick. I think he is totally to blame for all of your actions. Aged about 12, my best friend and I had big crushes on 15 yrd old twins who lived down the road. We would put on make up, dress up and then roller skate, yes, rollerskate backwards and forwards in front of their house. In the mistaken belief they may spot us through the lounge window, think we looked awesome and cool and come out and say hi. They never did. Backwards and forwards, too nervous to try anything fancy, just rolling slowly backwards and forwards in front of their house. For, like, half a day. I mean, it’s a wonder we were never arrested!

  2. Jenny from the blog Post author

    That’s hilarious and I can totally see it… you with your cherry flavored Kissing Potion hoping he would notice all the work you put into nonchalantly strolling (rolling ) by over and over and over… If it was now he would’ve taken a video of you and posted it on FB!!!

    1. Jenny from the blog Post author

      Naming your Cabbage Patch for someone is like the ultimate show of affection. That’s a stronger bond than marriage to a young child of the 80’s. We never forget that shit, huh. Meanwhile, Brett will never know what you did for him. NEVER… tear tear.

  3. Bari

    OY, to think I worked with Axel’s dad. Oh, the humiliation. I think I might just k— myself. Oh no, I better not say it because you know what could happen!!

  4. Jenny From the Blog via Facebook

    Oh the walking ( skating) “drive by” and then when he came out you had nothing to say. Oh was in the neighborhood. Sure I know u live on a dead end street 20 miles from the next house. I have backwoods family that ummmm hunts near here. I hope none of them ever shoot you. So what do you thing of Lisa’s braces?

  5. Jenny From the Blog via Facebook

    Oh the walking ( skating) “drive by” and then when he came out you had nothing to say. Oh was in the neighborhood. Sure I know u live on a dead end street 20 miles from the next house. I have backwoods family that ummmm hunts near here. I hope none of them ever shoot you. So what do you thing of Lisa’s braces?

  6. Julie Machado

    Wow, that brought me back to my stalking days of yore. My friends and I had code names for everyone… Cute rugby boy, bug boy, political science guy, counter boy. Yes, we were super creative. I just came across your site today. It’s great!

  7. Tina

    This made me laugh. My daughter is 18 and to sit and watch her do the same thing was painful when she was 12/13.

    I never stalked anyone, mostly because I was ugly and no-one would want me anyhow. I did date one guy, who surprisingly pursued me after I kicked him and dislocated his knee cap for picking on my friend – we dated for 18 months!

    One other guy took me out to see Crocodile Dundee and then took me home, kissed me on the doorstep – his tongue was that long it tickled my tonsils and I wondered if he was a snake.

    He rang and rang, turned up at my door and generally wanted to spend every waking moment with me. I felt suffocated and he scared the crap out of me. Eventually I sent my best friend and saviour to the door to tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore and explain less is more.

    After all, what are best friends for but to help you escape stalkers….

  8. marrymeknot

    Oh my, you just made me remember the card I wrote to my 7th grade boyfriend. It was valentines day and I put about a hundred stickers oh it that said, I LOVE YOU! The only problem was, he didn’t know nor did he choose to be my boyfriend. I just made him it without his consent. Can you imagine what his parents thought?… “This bitch is crazy.” As if that wasn’t enough. I called on the last day of school and read him a love poem on his families’ answering machine. Thankfully, I too grew wiser in my ways.

  9. Louisa

    I adore the honesty of your post and I know we can all identify. I’m still coming to terms with HOW ON EARTH I could have been quite so leg-wobblingly infatuated with Prince Charles!

  10. Pingback: Things That Made Guys HOT in The 80s – What Were We Thinking? | The Suburban Jungle

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