Lisa gave me a template. And then she let me go, even though she never knew I was holding on.
If you are reading this and nodding your head, terrified that someone will see your screen, you are not alone. 2021 was the year the rules of attraction blurred. For a generation locked inside with their nuclear families, curiosity often drifted toward the only other adults in the room. But for me, it wasn’t curiosity. It was a freight train. My best friend, Jake (not his real name), lived in a sprawling suburban house with a pool. After eighteen months of Zoom school, his mom, Lisa, decided to host a "Vaxxed & Chillin'" barbecue for the close friend group. I remember walking into their kitchen in late June. my first love is my friends mom 2021
I still see Lisa at birthday parties. She is gray at the temples now. She hugs me and says, "You look handsome." And my heart does a tiny, pathetic flip. But I smile, nod, and thank her. Lisa gave me a template
Lisa was 42. She had been "Jake’s mom" since we were five—the one who cut the crust off our PB&Js and drove us to soccer practice in a minivan that smelled like wet dog. But in 2021, something shifted. Maybe it was the lockdown glow-up. Maybe she had finally dyed her hair that auburn color she always wanted. Or maybe I had just grown up. 2021 was the year the rules of attraction blurred
