Lessons about love, movie daydreams and self image
Picture this.
Swimming pool of a cheap motel, Los Angeles, California, August 1981.
I am 14 years old.
We are travelling to the USA with my parents.
THE trip of a lifetime for us.
Our hippie family trio has inherited quite a nice sum of money, and my parents organised this 6 weeks trip across the USA, flying from New York to Louisiana; and then driving to San Francisco.
Of course, being a French teenager and having never been to the USA, and being a huge movie and musicals fan, this trip created so many out-of-this-world memories and lessons for me…
For today let's focus on the one.
So here I am, early morning… playing around in the pool by myself every day for 3 days.
And then this boy. On the fourth day.
Let's call him Michael ( because in truth I don't remember his name)
My age.
We start talking.
For a reason I can't explain, he seems to be into me…
Ah! Maybe some back story is necessary here.
So…
I am chubby. Back home in France, I am not the popular one with boys. Never Been Kissed. Never been chosen.
Generally feeling insecure and unsure about my seduction powers, I am both astonished and flattered by the attention.
Actual picture of me during that summer
Actual picture of THE pool and myself
Anyway. We swim, frolic in the water (yes, I know, this word ...lol !) and get to know each other. Four short mornings before each of us leaves for a day of tourism with our parents, then we are flying back to London for a few days at my uncle's before going home to France.
He is from London.
I am in love.
Not my first time ... but close.
I am elated and everything in LA feels like it's been displayed there just for my sheer pleasure and admiration.
Venice Beach, the Chinese Theatre, Disneyland, Santa Monica, Universal Studios, all seem to be there only for me, and all seem almost bland when compared to this boy's face.
And bear in mind I am a huge movie buff, mostly rom coms… in LA everywhere I look feels like a movie setting (because it literally has been used in a movie, I know)
I feel like I'm in a movie.
I feel like I deserve my own star of fame on Hollywood Boulevard.
We never touch.
And before leaving, he gives me his address and phone number.
“Call me when you're in London”, he says.
Fast forward the longest and most tedious flight back to London …
And I did. I called.
We set an appointment to meet.
He in fact lives in Croydon, Near Crystal Palace.
Train ride, bus, I get to his place (I’ll let you imagine the amount of time and angst choosing my clothes, jewelry and make up …)
His parents are sweet and welcoming.
I am in paradise.
We go for a stroll in the park, holding hands.
I'm in the movie again.
I'm living the rom com life. I am Olivia Newton-John in Grease ... And the like … Years later when I heard the song” I can hear the bells” in Hairspray, I could finally explain how I felt.
Young chubby, unpopular girl from middle of nowhere France being picked by sexy ( I’m sure he was) English boy in California… And here I am, in an English park, walking hand in hand with him. I literally remember hearing music...
Actual picture of Crystal Palace Park
Actual picture of two random teenagers
And please remember that my English is quite rudimentary and he spoke no French at all, so the conversation might have been rather... short.
In the park, in a cosy grass spot in the bushes, we sit ... and finally kiss.
This is my first one.
Angels sing. I can hear the choir. I can see a chorus line of dancers in the background. I feel like breaking out in song myself.
Energetically, This Kiss opened up something in me... I feel my body, my heart, my vagina, awaken to a new dimension.
I awoke to love.
I awoke to sexual energy.
Again I'm in a movie.
The cute boy picked ME and awoke me…
I melt in his embrace and feel my life is complete.
I have been kissed.
In my memories, this is the best kiss in the history of kisses.
I have no comparison anyway…
I feel beautiful, I feel loved, I feel powerful and successful in the most important area in life: love.
And yes, there is a song from a musical for that: “I feel pretty” from West Side Story.
I feel my energy is in the Heavens. Michael ( oh boy! Did I seriously rename him that ? LOL!), Michael is my angel and my lover forever and ever, and I honestly can hear the bells.
The amount of positive reinforcement I got from this snogging session in Crystal Palace Park is off the charts. I finally feel like I'm there. This feeling will never really disappear.
But…
OMG … you saw it coming, didn’t you ?
The naive romantic young French virgin …
The horny English boy who was convinced all French girls were easy, and who saw an opportunity …
At some point, in a secluded part of the park where we were sitting, he opened up his fly, showed his dick in my face (quite a big one if I remember), and asked in French:
“Tu veux baiser ou tu la suces ?”
I guess this was the only French he had mastered. For those of you who don't speak French it means “Want to fuck or give me a blow job ?” ( and yes, in that rude, direct language)
Pause. Shock. Breathe.
Actual picture of us .. in my movie
Actual picture of me after he spoke French ....
I fell from the Heavens right back on Earth, and straight into a huge pile of steaming shit.
At least it felt like that.
First time I saw a dick.
Just minutes after my first kiss.
From rom com to hard porn in less than an hour.
I have to say I am so proud of myself and so grateful for my upbringing. At that moment, I found the strength to say “No, no thank you, I want to go home, like, now”.
I stood up, left him there, walked back to his place, and asked his mum to call my family, saying I wasn't feeling well.
He came back home, while I was being ushered out by my uncle, who had come to pick me up.
We said goodbye politely.
I never saw him again.
Needless to say I was devastated. Used. Soiled. Tarnished.
It took me a while to recover. And to be ok with dicks again.
Although it didn't discourage me from men … Hard as I tried later on on during my teenage years to become an oppressed lesbian (yes that was fashionable in the 80s, and yes I’m that old …), I've always had a thing for tall, dark and handsome... and dicks.
Actual picture of the recovered me !
Actual picture of the promo for my self-love program
But I did recover... And you know, no there is more to that story than trauma.
The lessons and the changes in my beliefs were and still are, numerous and life-changing.
I can be attractive. Yes I learnt I could indeed be attractive. And a man (boy) could actually desire me. Such a cool reassuring idea. I am desirable. This has never left me!
I can only be attractive elsewhere then home... I have believed for many years (to this day ?) that I could only find love during travels or trips, far from home. There is another story here, one about peaches, Greece and my beloved friend Maria, which I will share another day. At home I felt like the Ugly Duckling again... still working on that one …
I can say NO. And make that no stand. I have that power and ability. So cool. So freeing. I am certain Michael wasn’t a rapist, just a horny misinformed boy, and I bear no grudges whatsoever. To this day I am grateful for the opportunity this boy gave me.
I'm going back to LA someday... it's been 40 years now. And the USA has never ceased to attract me... I have returned several times ( more stories!) but never to Los Angeles. Venice Beach here I come !
Rom coms are the thing for me. Still. I don’t like porn.
Love elation (that feeling of being “in love”), desire and sexual energy are but one and the same. And it feels awesome! Being in a state of desire (unfulfilled desire) is such a high! Way better than any drug I tried later on in my life. I love feeling in love. So I do my best to feel that everyday... In love with my life, with my partner, my house, my kids, my friends, nature ,and mostly, mostly feeling in love with myself. I have learnt that love is a verb. First and foremost. And a choice. I love to love... Even if/ when I am not loved in return.
Life can be both incredible and terrible and change in an instant. And I don't regret any part of that. Feeling the highs, the lows, learning the lessons. That is what life is to me. Not some uncommitted, apathetic, half-hearted trip where I try not to get hurt. Life is not to be lived half-arsed. It is a vibrant, exciting, daring experience where I reach for the Heavens. Daily. Whatever the risks.
There are so many possibilities. I can be different. Even while being the same. Sometimes a change of scenery is all it takes.
I am not what you see in me. This boy saw an opportunity in me, a target, an object of his desire. I wasn't. I am not. I won’t be reduced to that. I am who I am. Not who you see/ who you need/ who you desire. I am a subject, not an object.
I have a very vivid imagination and I love living in an enhanced reality where I add music and dancers and songs into my daily experience. It feels awesome!
Beauty is in the eye of the viewer. And many, many years after forgetting that I can be the first viewer of my own beauty, I am brought back to that belief today. I am beautiful. I can believe it again now.
One experience. So many beliefs( limiting or not). I am so glad I get to learn from my own past when writing these stories...
I would be so happy to hear from you about all that. Thank you in advance for your comment.
So much for today ...
See you soon, for my next online adventures!
Until then I send you love, light and gratitude.
Isaya
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