☕️ Coffee Break: First Crush

Anyone else remember their very first crush? You know, right around that awkward junior high phase when everything is dramatic, confusing, and you’re basically a walking ball of nerves and deodorant. No? Just me? Cool, cool.

Anyway, back then, liking someone felt like the biggest secret in the world. You’d do anything to hang out with them—but only in a group setting, obviously, because one-on-one would require speaking actual words and that was a hard no. Your besties would be plotting to casually drop hints, and you're over there on the verge of a panic attack, praying they don't actually follow through while simultaneously dying for them to do it. The internal conflict? Real.

Well, turns out, that stage of life is not just a memory. It’s currently playing out in real time… with my daughter. Yep. She’s officially entered the first crush era, and y’all, it is equal parts sweet and secondhand embarrassment.

She came home from Vacation Bible School all giggles and red cheeks. I could tell something was up. Turns out, a boy told her she was pretty—and that he liked her. I know, right? Big moment! But instead of saying anything back, my child stood there with her mouth wide open, catching flies and looking like she forgot how to use words. Then she turned beet red and bolted across the parking lot.

It. Was. Glorious.

To her, of course, it was traumatic. “Mom,” she groaned later, “why did you have to make me so awkward?” Like I somehow genetically programmed her to malfunction in front of cute boys. I mean… maybe I did. It is kind of my thing.

Now, we’re in that weird limbo stage where she’s not sure if they’re “dating” or what. (And yes, I say that loosely because, come on—they’re in junior high. At best it’s a solid two weeks of passing notes and not making eye contact.) Her friend really wants to ask him for clarification, but my daughter refuses. “I’d rather not know for sure,” she said, as if her heart couldn’t handle the answer either way.

Fast forward to this past weekend—we had a bonfire at the church, and lo and behold… he was there. Tossing a football. My girl? Practically broke her neck trying not to stare, which only made the staring worse. But then, they talked. They hung out. They laughed.

Then his mom walked over to mine.

“Hi sweetie,” she said. “What’s your name?”

My daughter—already sweating—gave her name, and the mom lit up like a Christmas tree. “OHHH,” she smiled, “You’re her! Well, aren’t you just the prettiest thing!”

By some miracle, my daughter remembered her manners and squeaked out a thank you. Meanwhile, I’m off to the side, stifling laughter because this girl, who could talk your ear off about random facts or the newest book she’s reading, had officially entered mute mode. I get it though. Meeting the parent of someone you like? Instant nausea and an overwhelming need to act like royalty.

Then came Sunday. We’re back at church, and my husband and I, being the supportive parents we are, absolutely teased her about it. She turned scarlet. Again. All it took was one glance from the boy, and she was back to forgetting how sentences work.

Honestly, she’s not wrong—she does get the awkwardness from me.

But here’s the thing: this boy has made it very clear that he likes her. She doesn’t even have to wonder. He just came out and said it. But she’s still overanalyzing every look, every text, every second of silence like it’s a secret code she needs to crack.

Later that evening at youth group, they had a partner game—and guess who he picked? Yep. She came home beaming. He even let her win. And y’all… she thought that was the sweetest thing in the world.

So yes, the saga continues. First crushes, church bonfires, awkward silences, and wide-eyed innocence. Watching your kid walk through it all is like rewatching your own coming-of-age story… but from the sidelines, with snacks.

I’ll keep you posted. 💕 Until then, send caffeine and emotional support.