Sentimental Sundays - My First Love

There is nothing that matches your first love, the first time you feel the stirring of something unexpected and wonderful, the first time you tentatively kiss, the first time you fight and make-up, the tentative fumblings doing things you know your Mum would just die if she knew about, the first time you have a friendship ring, the first time you gossip with your girlfriends about him, the first date, meeting his parents, thinking that this is the love that will last forever.

My first love - lets call him N was 3 years older than me, I was 14 he was 17 and I thought he was the most gorgeous guy I had ever met. We were set up by a friend of my Mum's as N needed a date to take to his leaving formal at school. He went to an all boys school and was shy and didn't have a girl friend, I was all eager to move to the ranks of 'having a boyfriend' so off we went to his formal having only met once before. It was the most awkward night of my life, not knowing his friends and not really knowing him - but he was wonderful and attentive and made me feel like a princess.

Over the summer holidays we got to know each other better and spent wonderful hours driving around in his Dad's Monaro (rev head me just loved this bit), going to the drive in with my little brother as chaperon (LOL), going to the movies and beach, just hanging at his house with his friends. We dated all through 1970.




He was fun but he started to get very serious and talked about getting married - I was only turning 15 that year and wanted to run away with my girlfriend Anna and see Australia. He gave me a friendship ring for my 15th birthday and suddenly there was this commitment that I was not ready for, I was so young and so was he.

We continued to date into 1971 and I really did have very deep feelings for him but I wanted more than being married, I wanted to dance with the wind in my hair on the top of some remote mountain, I wanted to drive fast cars and become a hippy and sing and dance and be free but all he wanted was me.


He was my first love, but he got very possessive and wanted to know everything I did and everywhere I went. He wanted me to himself and tried to keep me from spending time with my friends. I started to feel smothered and overwhelmed that someone could love me this much. The more I tried to break free, the tighter he seemed to hold on - until one day it was all to much and I told him I couldn't go down this path. He was devastated, he stalked me for months, he rang me and wrote to me and followed me around even when I first started dating my first husband he would be there following us in his car.

This is one of the last photos taken of us together and when I look at it I can see the tension in my face and the intensity in his. Goodness we were so young.

I often wonder where he is and how he is doing, I know that I broke his heart and for that I am truly sorry. I hope he found another love and that he is as happy as I am. I don't think you every forget your first love.

Oh and somewhere in the hundreds of photos I have in boxes there is one of me dressed to go on our first date - when I find it I will scan and share.