PART 1: It’s Just a Little Crush - The Trailblazer
A Journey Through Infatuation
This is the first instalment of It's Just a Little Crush, a series in which I explore the whimsical world of infatuation and the unexpected lessons that come with it. Each entry unveils a different crush—most of which never blossomed into anything more than a spark of hope or a daydream. Through humorous anecdotes and heartfelt reflections, I'll share the joy, confusion, and personal growth that arise from these bittersweet experiences.
This series celebrates unrequited love and the insights it offers. It is perfect for anyone who's felt the thrill of a crush and knows how even the briefest connections can leave a lasting impact.
Prologue
Being in a committed relationship for almost half a decade does something to you. While stuck in your proverbial love bubble, you don't notice how much the dating game changes. And why should you? You've found your person. You're set. Until you realize you haven't found your person. And you're not set.
As the love haze clears, you look up and face the reality that Earth C-137 has been Cronenberged. Now you have two options: hightail it to another dimension and start a new life or prepare for battle.
I chose to battle.
Luckily, I didn’t have to battle too much. Somewhere, between regular therapy sessions, learning to love myself, and getting too old to tolerate B.S., my taste in men had greatly improved since my early 20s. However, there is something to be said about why each love interest seems to be a hotter version of the last. It’s as if the universe knows exactly how to get my attention when it’s trying to teach me something. 😏
I will be sharing my dalliances in chronological order. The crushes I had in the first year after my breakup (2018 - 2019) played a significant role in shaping my perception of what a relationship could be. I had spent so many years chasing my ex that I couldn’t imagine existing within a different paradigm. Even though I didn't get much from that relationship, I never felt deserving of anything more than crumbs.
Each new lover gave me more insights to add to my list of wants and needs. They showed me how much I had been settling and what I truly desired. These encounters were peppered with blissful moments and hard truths. They served as muses and inspired new ideas about how I wanted to be loved.
I met my first muse a few weeks before ending my last long-term relationship. By then, I was already mentally checked out, especially after my ex had gaslit me into believing I’d misunderstood his marriage proposal.
I call him The Trailblazer.
The Trailblazer
Geneva, Switzerland | 2018
I patiently waited for everyone to leave the breakfast table, then giddily slid two chairs over to face you.
I began to whisper even though no one was around to hear us. (I liked the drama of it all.)
“Now that I have you alone. How’d you get the courage to end it?
We had made fast friends a day earlier on a bus ride to a conference we were attending. As we journeyed through a new city, we spoke about our values, how we saw the world, and the impact we wanted to make. It was then that you opened up about recently ending your relationship. I felt for you; I wanted the courage to do what you had done, so I asked.
“You just have to make up your mind to do it….just rip off the band-aid.”
You made it sound easy, but we both knew it wasn’t. But I felt something that I hadn’t in a while…hope.
In the following days, I saw qualities in you that I had been afraid to admit I wanted. Too scared to indulge in what seemed like an unrealistic fantasy. But there it was, there you were, everything I had been afraid to say I desired. You were a gentleman, volunteering to walk me home when our peers wanted to stay out and get drunk. You were not only passionate about serving your community, you were actually doing something about it. A man who knew exactly what he wanted, boldly declaring that you wanted to date to marry (I confirmed you were true to your word when you got engaged two months after the conference ended). But what drew me to you the most was how openly vulnerable you were.
We were assigned to different groups during the conference, but that didn’t stop you from texting me while we watched the presentations. While engrossed in a presentation on mental health, I felt my phone vibrate. It was from you, expressing how much the presentation resonated with you and your journey. It didn’t feel like a trauma dump or a bid to get sympathy; it was just a friend sharing something they found valuable and sharing a little more about what has been on their heart. We only knew each other for a few days, but I was grateful you felt comfortable enough to share that with me.
On day four, the last day of the conference, we were given three postcards. On it, we were instructed to write a letter to the persons in our group who impacted us the most. As I silently scribbled words of affirmation to my group mates, my phone buzzed again. A smile came across my face when I realized it was from you. By this time, I was properly smitten.
“If you were in my group, I would’ve written a note to you. I’m so happy that I met you.” (Or something like that.)
We were just friends. It took one awkward dance between us for me to realize that I was firmly in the friend zone (though my friends tried to convince me otherwise 🙄). It didn’t matter, though. You had given me hope that maybe my person was out there—someone like me who wanted to leave the world in a better place than they found it, someone who could be vulnerable and honest, someone who wasn’t afraid to act a fool when his favourite song came on.
We didn’t have the chemistry of a great love, but you lit a fire in me. You gave me the courage to leave behind a broken relationship. Meeting you made me brave enough to reclaim my happiness.
It’s been years since we last spoke. In the early days, after we returned to our respective countries, I tried to stay in touch, but it never felt the same. We lived such different lives. I remember crying about it once (okay, more than once), not wanting to let go of hope. You’re married now, perhaps with children—I stopped keeping up with you. Yet when I think of you, it’s always with fondness.
Learning that you didn’t share my feelings hurt, but it also deepened my respect for the care you showed me during those four days. You were the first man who truly valued me for my character, and that meant so much. It opened my eyes to the possibility that there are men who appreciate me beyond just physical attraction.
Thank you for showing me what it's like to be valued for my intellect, kindness, and spirit—not just for what I can offer physically, and to seek a connection where I am appreciated as a whole person.
Thanks for Being Here!
Thank you for joining me in this instalment of It's Just a Little Crush, where I delve into the enchanting realm of infatuation and the unexpected lessons that come with it. I appreciate your support as I share these stories of hope, heartache, and personal growth. I hope you found some joy and insight along the way!
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P.S. Thank you for reading Becoming Moken! If my story resonates with you and you feel moved to support my journey, consider leaving a love offering. While Becoming Moken is free for now, your contributions help sustain my healing process and enable me to create even more content. Your support is truly a blessing and a tangible way to share the love.