THE FIRST KISS
There are a handful super-monumental occasions in every teen’s life, from the first high school dance to the first job; there are just some events that are so defining, you’ll be recounting them for as long as you live. And perhaps none is so utterly big as the first kiss.
That kiss is your first real foray into relationship-territory, and according to just about anyone you ask, it should be amazing. Everyone will want to know about it from best friends to future significant others, and probably even your grand parents.
Who was it with? How old were you? Where was it? Etc, etc, etc.
Truth be told, I waited—well, depending on whom you ask, I didn’t exactly have the
opportunity—for my first kiss until I had my first real boyfriend when I was a senior. And it was…meh.
I was disappointed. You see all these romantic movies and read all these great books about how first kisses are supposed to be—earth-shattering, fireworks popping in the background, down-right awesome. But mine was just awkward. It was sort of a peck and duck (peck on the lips, duck into the neck, peck on the lips, duck into the neck), which isn’t sexy at all.
I was so nervous. There had been so much build-up, and my friends were watching and giggling a few yards away. I guess I had some sort of performance anxiety and I totally bombed. And now I get to tell my progeny about how I waited for a perfect first kiss, and it was utterly lame. Was anyone else disappointed with their first kiss? I sincerely hope I’m not the only one.