I have been really embarrassed about something for many years. I don’t like to talk about it that much so not very many people know about it. I need to move past it so I’ve decided that I’m going to share this embarrassing moment with you today so that one of two things will happen. Either I will realize that it’s not uncommon and move on with my life or I will realize that I am a freak and promptly find a psychiatrist who will help me learn from this experience and then move on.
I’m talking about my first real kiss. It was awful! I had no idea what I was doing and I made it a really gross experience for me and the boy involved. I must confess that I was at least 16 years old before I got my first kiss, not extremely young but it could be worse. I had kissed guy friends in the past but it was the kind of kiss you give to your grandma (if you kiss your grandma on the lips, which I never did) when you are saying goodbye. Mostly we thought we were being funny and just joking around.
I know you want to hear every last detail about it and I’m more than happy to share them with you. Go back to 1987 (Yikes!) I’m a sophomore in high school and I’m dating this guy named… uh… Brence (names have been changed to protect the sloppy kissers) and we are having a good time on what is somewhere between our 2nd and 3rd date. I don’t remember what we did that night but as he pulls up into my driveway I can feel the tension begin to build. Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to? Am I going to do it right?
Brence leans over, I pucker up just like I’m going to kiss my grandma and suddenly I feel like I’m drowning in the biggest, wettest, sloppiest lips ever known to man (or woman). Alarm bells are going off in my head, my brain is yelling “You’re not doing this right!” and “This is really disgusting!” I quickly end the kiss with what I’m sure is a crazy, smacking, pucker thing and I say something like “Thanks for the nice evening” and I run into the house. I’m sure he was quite relieved that he didn’t have to walk me to the door after that fiasco. I didn’t mention that kiss to anyone but he must have because a few days later a girl in my ward came up to me and asked with a big smirk on her face, “When John kissed you the other night was that your first kiss?”
I’m sorry to say that my kissing life didn’t get much better for a little bit. The next kissing experience I had was pretty embarrassing too. When the guy went to kiss me he leaned into his right and I leaned to my left which was awkward so he pulled back. Then he leaned to his left and I leaned to my right which was just as bad. He leaned back and said, “Don’t worry about it Kristen, it’s ok.” He then left and that was our last date. Not long after that I left for the BYU where I had a few very good teachers help me out on my kissing techniques.
So, should I remain embarrassed and get professional help or do have an embarrassing story to share with me so I’ll feel better about myself?