Really, though. As these developments moved along in my life, my big problem turned into an even bigger problem. (Also, names shall be changed to preserve whatever hope of anonymity there is.)
Somehow I had managed to survive junior high, which was no small feat. In 6th grade, I had a crush on practically every boy in our class. Eventually, Max, the strongest of those crushes, became my first “boyfriend”. I use that term loosely, though. 11year old boyfriends aren’t very fun. The minute we agreed to go steady, we stopped talking to each other completely, too embarrassed to look at each other until we “broke up” almost a year later.
Still, I was obsessed with him. I gave him all the goodies my mom had bought for my classroom secret pal, wrote him letters every day and stared at him all the time. Plus, I did something amazingly stupid. Some evenings, without my parents knowing, I took off on my bicycle and rode down to his house, just to stand a few yards away and look at it. That wouldn’t be quite so crazy if he didn’t live like 3 or 4 miles away. To get there, I had to ride down a busy 4-lane main highway, turn off onto a river levee that went behind a fence construction company, then turn down some isolated, winding dirt roads to get to the gate at the beginning of the driveway in front of his house. I’d sit there for a few minutes, and then, satisfied, I’d around and go all the way back. Surely God has his angels watching over me.
In 7th grade, eight days after my “break-up” with Max, I accepted another “steady” named Caleb. This relationship was a tad different in that he actually wrote back to my letters, and we did hold hands a few times. I also had my first so-called kiss with him. Even though we had to be dared by our friends — and also have them there as witnesses to time us. My best friend Sophie and I planned our dared “French Kiss” on the same day. She went first and the only advice she had for me afterwards was to make sure Caleb hadn’t just eaten a burrito before we tried it.
I pulled the same bicycle craziness with Caleb as I did with Max. Only, Caleb lived even further away…about 5 or 6 miles from my house. I also actually talked to him when I went to his house, even if it was just briefly. I made the mistake of writing about it in my journal once, and then – with my wishful thinking – fudging the story a TON at the end, saying that we had shared this really romantic kiss when I left. My mom found it a few months later and I was grounded for the rest of the school year.
I have to mention the poor teacher I became obsessed with as well. Turns out, his mom lived on our street. So I would sit out in the yard for HOURS, just to be able to catch a glimpse of him when drove by. Kids at school would sell me things out of the trash that he had supposedly used… forks, styrofoam boxes, gum. Sophie liked him too, so we would make up lyrics to songs about him and play them on the piano we were learning to play.
It wasn’t just boys or teachers that I saw at school that I was obsessed with. Nothing — absolutely NOTHING — compared to my New Kids On The Block obsession. I would scour the TV for sightings of them so I could record it. Then I’d watch those tapes over and over and over again. I’d have dreams that I’d see Jordan somewhere in public and get to know him. Then when I’d wake up and find out it wasn’t true, my whole day would be absolutely ruined. But even though they caused such angst, they truly did bring glimmers of happiness into some very gloomy days. One thing I have to say about Fred, he did buy me a ticket to their concert. Mom and I stood in line in cold November rain for 4 hours to get that nosebleed seat ticket, but it was the greatest gift ever.
I wrote this poem in July 1990 that pretty well summed up my NKOTB emotions:
I saw them on a TV show not too long ago.
It’s amazing how it made me feel so terrible, depressed and low.
As I watched their gorgeous selves move to match the beat,
I sat motionless as a statue, frozen to my seat.
I was SO very happy when adorable Donnie did his stuff!
And when PERFECT Jordan took the lead, I just couldn’t get enough.
Then I sat dazzled by gorgeous Danny, Jon and Joe…
I hoped that they would never leave, prayed they’d never go.
Then all of a sudden I realized that they could never be mine.
I will never meet these gorgeous guys who are so sweet and fine.
They’ll never know that I exist, or know that I am here.
They’ll never know that in my heart, they’re precious, beloved and dear.
Then I looked at Jordan and all at once I knew…
That my never ending love for them FOREVER will be true.
Just one look at all of them filled me full of pride.
Just knowing that they’re alive makes me feel so good inside.
I’ll always, always love them. And forever I’ll be proud.
Even if I am to them just another face in the crowd.
Tragic. And prophetic. Since anyone who knows me at all knows that this is still a thing. 😉 Hey. Forever means forever.
Throughout 8th & 9th grade, I was obsessed with two or more guys at any given time. Unfortunately, I was really overweight, badly dressed, insanely annoying and I bugged them all to death. I couldn’t seem to control my behavior around them and it was clear they were all irritated with me. I was constantly in a state of depression… and I mean really depressed.
So began high school. At our school, it wasn’t until 10th grade that we were considered high school. The semester started out noticeably different from what I had known in the past. I had lost a considerable amount of weight from all that walking, although I was still a little on the heavy side. I had also learned NOT to wear blue eyeliner, purple mascara, and bright pink lipstick. I also managed to calm down a little and stop acting so desperate for attention. I started the year out with three new crushes, and for the first time in my life, I got to experience attention from boys.
I also found a best friend, Mario – my first one at this school. We had been somewhat friends in junior high, but we weren’t particularly close. He had a friend named Lisa who he was with every waking second. But this year, she had gotten a boyfriend and was always with him. So Mario & I started spending time together and grew to be the bestest of friends within a month. Our senses of humor were a perfect match and we were constantly laughing. I had him for one class. During that class, all we did was pass notes back and forth. During all my other classes, I spent writing letters to him…usually like three or four a day. And I could usually expect to receive just as many from him. He was a boy on top of all his other assets, so I cherished him more than anyone else I knew. Mario was, in essence, my platonic soul-mate.
One night at a football game, I met Evan. I had seen him in the halls, I thought he was super cute, and I knew he was way out of my league. Still, he was really nice to me. That night I went home and wrote in my journal about meeting him. At the end of every journal entry, I always wrote my Top 5 Crushes of the Day. That night in October 1991, he made the list. I started running into him a lot more & by a week later, we were going steady. But for realsies this time.
Finally! I had landed my first REAL boyfriend. We ate lunch together, walked to class together, wrote letters, everything. One night he called me and told me to turn on the radio. He had dedicated “I Wanna Know What Love Is” to me, which made me feel like I was on the top of the world. When Mom saw how serious I was about him, she even agreed to let him come over.
The first time, we went into my room and although I loved being so close to him, it felt like he was pressuring and expecting sexual activity that I was not willing to participate in. I had heard all of Grandfather’s speeches. I just knew God would punish me severely if I had premarital sex. Evan’s pestering bothered me so much that I was suddenly disgusted with the thought of him. I tried to get over it, but only grew more sickened. So, I devised a plan to tell him my step-dad had ordered me to dump him.
Then something weird happened. The minute I broke up with him, I suddenly cared about him more than I ever had. I went home and cried my eyes out all night. I went to spend the night at Gramma’s so I could get my mind off of it for a while (Grandfather was in Mexico). Before I went to bed, I called up the radio station and dedicated, Chicago’s “I Don’t Wanna Live Without Your Love” to him on the radio. Then I tossed and turned and cried the entire night. I woke up at 7, not even tired….just heartsick. He called me and told me he was heartbroken too. By Monday, we were back together.
After that, I grew completely infatuated with him. It was all good for about a month. I loved the way his hand felt in mine. Having someone to hold made me feel more special than I ever had in my life. We’d eat lunch quickly and then spend the rest of lunch making out behind the library. I had never had this kind of attention in my life.
However, the closer we got, the harder he pushed to move farther physically, which was the one thing I just couldn’t go along with. After a couple of months, I could see he was losing interest in me. He started ignoring me at lunch, making comments about other pretty girls, forgetting to meet me at my locker. I really felt like I loved him and this plunged me into the deepest depression ever. I even went to talk to the school counselor. One day he was very affectionate at lunch and then said we had to talk. I caught his vibe and straight up begged him not to break up with me. He said he needed time to think about it. That same day after school, he dumped me.
I went to such a dark place after that. I would sit in my room and play George Strait cassettes back to back while putting together my New Kids On The Block puzzle. I’d listen to the words that echoed everything I was feeling and I’d cry and cry and cry and cry. Mom would get so upset with me and tell me to stop crying over that guy – but I couldn’t.
It was around this time that my old best friend Sophie invited me to go to church with her, at the First Baptist Church just a couple miles down the road. I asked Mom and she said it was okay. I wasn’t sure I expected that since Grandfather had never let us go to church. After I had Mom’s permission, there was nothing else to do but go.
I was in for a pleasant surprise. The people there were soooooo very nice. Not one person in the church had walked by me without introducing themselves to me. Then when the preacher started talking, I felt something inside flicker & my heart started to beat a little harder. I was surprised because I always thought I was a Christian. I believed in God. I had read the Bible. I was definitely afraid of Him. But I honestly had no idea who He was, and that day was the first time I heard some of the things the preacher said. I was eager to go back the next time and the next time. But my church life and home life were definitely very much separate.
Not long after we broke up, Evan started showing interest again and we got back together. It was fine at first, but again the same old stuff popped up. More time passed and he could see things weren’t moving fast enough. His interest began to drop again. I did NOT want to lose him again.
Out of desperation, I agreed that I would give my virginity to him at a slumber party we would both go to. I had a friend who had very lax parents and it was all set up. I had permission from Mom to go, but of course, I hadn’t told her very many details at all. And the ones I DID tell her were slightly fudged. On the day of the party, Gramma came to give me a ride over there. I had all my stuff in my hand and we were walking towards the front door to get in her van. Suddenly out of nowhere, Mom got a “bad feeling” in her stomach and changed her mind. I was furious! Terrified! Sick to my stomach! I begged and pleaded with her. I was desperate because I knew if I didn’t go, I was going to lose Evan. But she stood her ground and wouldn’t let me go.
There was another party the next week, though, and I promised Evan we’d go to that one & maybe try to sneak away. This one was at the house of my friend Lila. My mom knew Lila, so I knew I’d get to go. We went to the party with Evan’s best friend, James, and James’s girlfriend, Alexis. As soon as we got there, Evan wanted me to go ask Lila if we could borrow her room for a while. I told him to wait and the next thing I knew, he and James had taken off for a walk. I started talking to Alexis, and she started venting about all the pressure that James had been putting on her to give in to him sexually as well. It was clear that they were both itching for only one thing. The more Alexis and I bonded, we agreed we needed to dig in our heels and not give in. When the boys came back, they were friskier than ever. Evan pushed harder and harder for it to happen, but I had decided it wasn’t going to. Another disappointing night for him…and he’d had enough. The next week, he broke up with me again.
Again, I fell into depression. Not as bad as the first time, but I still felt worthless, hideous and unlovable. My sophomore year ended and I was just home with nothing to do but think, listen to George Strait & do puzzles, which made it even worse. When he started calling a month later, I went right back. Again, same old thing. At first it was amazing and he had all the right words about how he couldn’t live without me. But then it went right back to the way it was, only much worse. After a date one summer night, it got really bad. The next day, I actually got the courage to break up with him for the last time, and I never cried over him again.
Sometime in July 1992, the Baptist church that I had started going to started its Vacation Bible School program and they needed helpers. It sounded like a great way to break the monotony of being at home so I volunteered. In that week, I wound up getting to know all of the families at the church really well. I liked them so much that I decided to join the youth group so I could spend more time with them. From then on, anytime the church doors were open, I was there.
Junior year began. Mario had talked me into joining the marching band as a flag girl as a way for us to spend even more time together. And spend time together we did! Summer band, night practices, football games, road trips, band tournaments.
Something happened after all that time together though. I started to look at him a little differently. Suddenly, I didn’t just see him as just my friend. One night we went on a band trip to a football game in the next town. I sat next to him like always…on the bus, during the game, and then back on the bus. On the way home, I settled into my seat like I always did, and rested my head on his arm, just like I always did. But it felt different that time. The darkness of the night kinda made that clunky school bus full of sweaty band kids seem like the most romantic place on earth. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. I struggled with that the entire way home, thinking, “Okay, I’ll do it….no, I can’t.” It was strange, because I felt like I was getting the same vibes from him. Before I knew it, we were back at school and I had run out of time. I asked him if he wanted to go to Sonic with me afterwards. (EVERYONE went to Sonic after games at my school). But he said he was tired and had to be home by 10. So I went alone.
There, I ran into a football player named Tito who had been kinda flirting with me in weeks prior. Band practice and football practice were at some of the same times so I saw him around a lot. Anyway, that night his ride OJ had left without him — and they lived in the furthest town that was in our school district (Google Maps says over 15 miles away). Tito had nowhere to go, so I brought him home with me so he could use the phone. (No cell phones back then!) He called OJ’s parents and they said that when he got home, they’d send him back for him…. so that meant he had a very long wait. We went outside and talked in the pecan orchard under the stars until 2 in the morning. It was so romantic that I was “in love” again.
Tito was very tall, very handsome, and very confident. He relentlessly flirted with me every day after that night. Then two weeks later at the homecoming bonfire, he finally kissed me. That began a situation that would also tear down my self esteem even further. He was very possessive and jealous…but he didn’t want a “relationship.” He wrote me letters saying stuff like, “How’s life? I know your life must be great now that I’m in it. On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate me? I’d say I’m an 11. When you write back, tell me how bad you want me.” I ignored the red flags because he made me feel very important since he was soooo good looking, he played football and seemed to like me a lot. Yet, the day I told him I thought I was falling in love with him, he flipped out and told me that couldn’t happen. He had an ex-girlfriend that he was strangely still close to and I suspected it was because of her. Another guy, Ethan, had been aggressively flirting w me around that time and I ended up making out with him out of panicky, desperate loneliness the next day. Tito found out about it and was livid. He said that for sure we could never be together now.
I wrote in my diary that night:
I’m mad and depressed and at the same time tired of caring about anything. I’m mad because Tito is always with Jessica. I’m mad because I don’t have a chance with him. I’m mad at myself for blowing the few chances he said I used to have with him. I’m mad because I always mess things up. I’m mad because Tito avoids me half the time and still expects me to be a loner. I’m mad because I can’t please him. I’m mad because life is SO unfair! I’m mad because Tito is going to jump on Ethan’s case about this and then I’m going to have TWO guys mad at me. I’m mad because I love Tito and I can’t do anything about it because he loves Jessica. I’m mad because being mad is the only thing keeping me from crying my eyes out.
I’m depressed because love sucks. I’m depressed because I have no idea what to do about anything anymore. I’m depressed because I can’t win no matter what I do. I’m depressed because I’m stuck in a mess I don’t know how to get out of. I’m depressed because I can’t keep a guy. I’m depressed because I’m not good enough for anyone. I’m depressed because I have to have another emotion besides anger or else I’d go crazy.
I’m tired of caring. I’m so tired of falling in love, just to have it end in heartbreak. I’m tired of caring about what everyone else thinks of me. I’m tired of trying to please Tito because it just doesn’t work. I’m tired of being depressed over the fact that I’m never going to have him. I’m tired of making mistakes. I’m tired of messing up my life, period. Will it ever get better? I’m glad I don’t believe in suicide or I’d be dead right now.
To make matters worse, I just didn’t feel welcome at home. The situation with my stepdad Fred became more and more volatile. He would be really quiet and ignore me for about 4 or 5 months. Then all of a sudden out of the blue he’d blow up into fits of rage over little things like missing the bus…tantrums like I’d never seen before. I just seemed to bring about this uncontrollable hatred in him. When Mom started to defend me, he’d start screaming at her about how if she wanted a divorce, she could have one.
I couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting Mom. I could handle all the names he called me and the fact that he hated me. I had friends at school and a life ahead of me. But Mom…I just felt so bad for. He’d ignore her for days, sometimes weeks afterwards. Some days I’d come home from school a week after one of those blow ups and she’d be sitting at the table with red eyes. She tried to hide it, but I still saw. I couldn’t stand that she was crying because of me. I felt like such a burden on her, even though she told me never to feel that way. I began to think about running away. I even knew a guy at school who was good friends with my cousin. He lived on his own and he said he had extra room if I needed a place to go. But I also couldn’t stand the idea of leaving my brothers behind. So I hung around. It always blew over….so it could start building up again.
To delay the build up, I preferred to spend as much time away from there as possible. I never once rode the bus home after school. I always stayed after school until the activity bus came around 6. For maybe a month or two out of the year, I really did have flag practice, but the rest of the year, I didn’t have anything to do. Sometimes I’d do homework, or write in my journal. Or sometimes I’d just walk around and think. Anything to avoid going home. And during all that “deep thinking”, I just grew more and more dependent on acceptance from boys.
Boys were the only thing that could possibly make me feel as though I weren’t junk, but I just couldn’t keep one. Boys were my “substance”, my alcohol, my drugs, my caffeine, my chocolate—sedating me and comforting me, but only short-term. I would feel really good for a few days, but then I’d feel even worse when they would turn out to not be interested in commitment. Things might have even uglier than they were had I not had that church to go to.
At church those families that I grew close to helped a lot. So many of them reached out & took me in. The one family that I grew especially attached to was the McCarty’s. Stanley was a towering man…maybe about 6’3 or 6’4. He had a beautiful wife and two great kids and I really looked up to him. They lived about a mile away from me and I’d walk down the irrigation ditch to their house all the time. No one in that house was my age, but I felt so comfortable there.
One night we had a youth banquet for Valentine’s Day and we all went out to eat. I was sitting there thinking about what Valentine’s Day represents and how lonely I felt … and suddenly I just couldn’t suppress tears. All of my favorite people from church were there, telling jokes and laughing, having a good time. I should have felt happy to be sharing company with them that night. But instead I found myself running outside to cry.
After a few minutes, Stanley came outside to check on me. He walked up and asked me if I was okay. I had stopped crying, but looking at him made it start up again. He walked over to me and just held me in his arms and let me cry myself out again. He didn’t ask any invasive questions, didn’t demand to know what was going on. He just stood there in silence and from that, I knew I wasn’t alone. After that, everyone was finished and we went back to the church. As we were all leaving the church parking lot, he called me over to him and gave me another hug. He said everything would be okay. When I was walking away, he said, “Hey”. I turned around and he said, “I love you. You know that, right?” It didn’t fix my situations – but I definitely felt less alone. Looking back, I can see that no matter how lonely I felt, God was watching over me and caring for me. I just didn’t recognize him because he looked like people like Stanley.
That was church. At school, I grew only closer to Mario. We were inseparable. Our letters increased, we met between almost every class, we ate lunch practically glued together, I waited with him for his bus, we spent hours on the phone. Then we had band. After those late night practices and games and stuff, he’d drive me home and park in my driveway. We’d sit out there for at least an hour or two talking. He’d have to be home by 9:30, but he’d stay until 9:45 or 10:00 or until Mom would flash the porch light as a signal to come in. He was there ALWAYS, which was good seeing how so many guys broke my heart that year. He was always there to pick up my pieces. He probably got sick of that, but he never showed it. He was my best friend ever. And for once I felt special because he loved me too. On one of his pictures that he gave me, he wrote on the back, “Life without you would be life without air.” And I most definitely felt the same way about him.
In April of our junior year, a boy Mario detested kissed me in the gym after P.E. class. His name was Marty, and supposedly he had threatened to kick Mario’s butt once. When I told Mario about him, he was disgusted. As fate would have it, I got kind of close to Marty. He was funny and charming and really handsome. He asked me if I’d be his girlfriend, so I jumped at the chance.
One day, we planned to stay after school to spend some time together. We were making out on a picnic table when the assistant principal walked by. He yelled at us to get off of campus or else he’d call our parents and tell them why we really stayed after school. Marty lived in that same super far away town in our school district. His only way home was going to be the activity bus that came at 6. I pulled him into the band room, where we hid out in the uniform closet while I thought of something to do.
In desperation, I went & used the pay phone to call Mario. I thought he might have some good advice, but I knew he couldn’t help me because for a whole week he had been planning on going to a choir concert that night. There was a girl he had a crush on who was in choir. Still, he said, “Hold on, I’ll be right there.” He came and picked us up. Not only did he drive Marty all the way home, but he took us to dinner at Church’s Chicken. We sat there eating and Mario made conversation with the boy he couldn’t stand. They actually got along very well. I sat there in the arms of my new boyfriend, watching him bond with my best friend who had missed his long awaited choir concert for this and I was just overwhelmed.
After we dropped Marty off, I sat in the front seat next to Mario and laid my head on his shoulder. I told him how much I loved him and how happy I was to have him as my best friend—not because he did stuff like that for me, but because he CARED enough to do stuff like that for me. He told me he loved me too. We spent the rest of the night chatting happily. I was the happiest girl in the world at that moment.
Things with Marty didn’t work out—as usual. I was getting exhausted from all the disappointment. But… there was a new guy at our school named Jesse who I quickly fell for. He was beautiful… Huge sparkling deep blue eyes and a million-dollar smile that could melt the coldest heart. My crush grew even stronger when I heard he was a Christian. He didn’t seem interested in popularity, girl watching or flirting. I was fascinated with him and spent a lot of time trying to get to know him. We actually became pretty good friends in a short while, so I was back to my “happy” self.
A few weeks later during the last couple weeks of the school year, I talked Mario into coming to Wednesday night Youth Group with me at church. It was strange because he would never agree to it before. He thought it was stupid. But for some reason, he said he’d go that night. He was quiet the whole evening, which was also kind of odd. On the way home, he was still quiet. We went on a drive before he took me home and he was fidgeting. I was messing around with his radio dials the way I always did, when he started talking about how he was getting over this girl that he was sad about because of this new girl that he was falling in love with.
At first, I didn’t think much of it, but as the nervousness grew in his voice, I understood that he was about to tell me something I wasn’t prepared to hear. I mean, I had felt the same way at other times in our friendship, but by now I had come to my senses. He meant too much to me to just gamble away like that. I kept dodging obvious hints and he finally said, “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” Then he went on to say he had had feelings for me lately, and that all he could think about was kissing me. He said he had spent hours replaying REO Speedwagon’s “I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore” on his CD player and he was convinced that we should do something about it.
I tried to stall, but he kept talking, saying, “Lessie, we SHOULD kiss. Nothing could ever ruin our friendship, so what do we have to lose?” We got to my house and parked out in the driveway like usual. I was scared to death because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He kept trying to convince me, and in a crazy moment of wanting him to stop talking, I just kissed him. I tried to make it work, but there was no denying that there was zero chemistry between us. Horrified, I pulled back and we sat there in stunned silence. After a while, he said that he hadn’t been prepared for that, and that if we tried it again, it would be better. After a few more minutes of arguing, we tried it again, but still…nothing. I pulled away and ran inside the house, telling him that I was sorry as I closed the car door. I sat down on my bed and tried to make sense of what just happened, but I couldn’t.
The next day at school, I avoided Mario at all costs for the entire first half of the day. By noon, I had written him the longest letter telling him that I couldn’t lose him. When I gave it to him, he had one ready for me, too, which basically said the exact same thing. At the end, he said he hoped I could still talk to him about how cute Jesse was without feeling weird. I was so relieved that things were going to be fine.
Only ….
….they weren’t.
From that day on, Mario started spending all his time with Lisa, his old best friend who no longer had a boyfriend. He didn’t wait for me between classes anymore. He didn’t write many letters anymore, and the ones he did write felt forced. I hoped that we just needed more time for things to go back to normal – but they never did. Thankfully the school year ended not long after that, but all through that summer before our senior year, he was distant. So I got my mind off of it by spending more and more time at church.
All my problems went away at church. I was torn between thoughts sometimes because I had always been taught about a vengeful, angry God. These people talked of a God who loved his people. I kind of felt sorry for them. I worried that they were going to be in for a big surprise when the end of the world came. I felt I was much more informed than them…. these people who talked about how kind and loving God is… they had to be delusional. Still, it was a nice place to be. My youth pastor was great and made me think about a lot of things.
At this church, I heard that God could fill all the voids in your life, but it was so hard for me to believe. Again, the God I believed in didn’t care if you were happy or sad. In fact, happiness was one of the quickest ways to prove just how ungodly you were. I wanted to serve God by making my life completely devoted to Him (and therefore, completely melancholy) like Grandfather’s — and I still had grand plans to clean up my life and make this angry God happy, but my lonely heart ached so bad and kept pulling me in other directions.
Out of the Box 
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