#3 WHERE DO OUR EARLY DATING IMPRESSIONS COME FROM?

Why do some early experiences stick with us (in a bad way)?

On reflecting upon the “start” of my journey with the opposite sex, I realise (maybe quite sadly) that so much of our lives is informed by our early years. On the one hand, I had the most amazing childhood in England with a wonderful, loving support network that consisted of my parents, my older sister (by five years), Grammy, Grandad, Grandad’s second wife, Gill, my uncles, step aunts and uncles (via Grandma Gill), and some very dear family friends (Jenny, Derek, and their daughter Sarah and her family, and Jenny’s headmaster, Barry) – and my parents’ friends, grandparents’ friends, neighbours, and the list goes on. I had a big network. I got to do nice things, go on nice walks, go on holidays, and spend lots of time in beautiful gardens, and the countryside. All of those things informed my personality to a degree, but none of those things was going to prepare me for dating, so, on the other hand, I was informed in later years by the fact that when I was younger, I wasn’t the girl who got the guy.

Young Lainey at Sarah’s house, a close family friend, who knew my youngest uncle when they were teenagers

Just as my mother had told me she’d been bullied in school and that impacted her confidence later in life (can I hug my childhood Mama because I’m sorry life treated her that way?) – before she became the amazing director of a nonprofit organisation; had my gorgeous baby sister, Hannah; and married such a wonderful husband, I might add. And how Michael was also bullied in school which, despite being gorgeous, impacted how he also saw himself (ugly duckling as he says). Not being able to go out with my childhood crushes was simultaneously good for me and not.

I had far too many crushes even to recount and I always expected not to “date” said crushes (not that it really counts before high school). When I went to Clarksfield Junior, I went out with one crush – and as I said in my second post – he dumped me for the prettier, cooler girl, Bethany.

I had some elementary school crushes at my first school in Orlando, Florida and my second school in Tifton, Georgia before I went to Eighth Street Middle School (also in Tifton) and none of them were requited.

As an interesting side note, one of my crushes, a blonde curly-haired boy that I don’t recall his name, later became a radio personality! I had another crush on an older boy who rode my school bus and I sustained that crush for years.

Me on holiday to Florida (R) and one of my childhood best friends (L) Joanne and I (after I'd moved to Florida) visiting me in Ft. Myers.

Even in high school, the crushes on the hot junior and senior boys (when I was a freshman) or even on some of my old classmates (which I didn’t tell them then nor would tell them now). Again, I wasn’t the girl who got the guy.

Who could resist the MySpace selfie, I ask? The up angle, the forehead shine, the hint of a faded pimple above the browline!

It was most definitely me! Just as my Grandad felt in his memoir that he was a misfit and different, there was always something different about me even if I hadn’t planned it that way. Maybe it was less pronounced when I was in England, but even then, despite my very broad Oldham accent (as family friend Barry captured on my childhood videos), the schoolchildren thought my voice sounded “posh.” I guess that was thanks to my parents not being from Oldham! 

Then, when I moved to Florida and later to Georgia, being English made me different. Even when I had an American accent, I was no longer English enough for the English or American enough for the Americans. When young, being different (and “yourself”) is a death sentence when it comes to popularity and fitting in, but I don’t think I tried to fit in – and reflecting now I’m not even sure why. 

I also had the impression that the boys I had crushes on always went for the petite, cute girls. I was not petite. I was taller, gangly, thin, and flat-chested (boy did life play a trick on me there when my far-too-large-breasts grew in – life, I didn’t want them, actually – I was happy being flat-chested, really, REALLY) and I always knew that I was bigger framed than other girls, even though I wasn’t fat.

Middle school me with one of my favourite teachers (Miss N, who taught science).

Those impressions formed my later life beliefs of myself. I was active, I was thin, but I was not as small as other girls – and they got the guy. That feeling of being “too big” or practically double the size of other women has plagued me all my life. I’d been told later in life by some men that I was too big for them. But I’m not big in the sense that beautiful tall, model-type girls are bigger framed. Some of the glamazon women who stand at 5’10” can have a bigger frame, but still be considered drop-dead-gorgeous and desirable.

My frame stood just under 5’7” and I had linebacker shoulders, shapely legs (which I like), and more of a square appearance, with less waist definition than some. I didn’t often see my body type reflected in the media or on others, which did leave me feeling isolated. 

My first Facebook profile picture – when FB was opened up to a wider audience of uni students in December 2006 (no longer just for the Ivys).

And maybe that’s why later, I relished my newfound popularity with men. I’d never had so much attention, so many options, and I wanted to try them all! How could I know my favourite type of apple without sampling from the barrel, I ask you? 

If, like some other girls in my younger years, I’d been less different and more in line with others, would I have had a less “crazy” time in my 20s, I guess we’ll never know.

Uni me with Brittany and Dixie – and my eldest uncle, Steve – on NYE. Long before Snapchat filters became a thing.

One of my longtime crushes, though, once took me on a date when I was in my teens – after dating my beautiful, petite best friend when we were in middle school – more on this next time.

Don’t forget to check out the first two posts I’ve written, including the one on why I’m writing this newsletter/blog in the first place.