The Wonders of Hindsight - anonymous

I just want to start off by making it very clear for context, I was by no means a crazy person. When you come out in your early twenties, people often believe this is their chance to make up for lost time. Didn’t have a teenage sweetheart romance? Or even better, a first heartbreak? Don’t worry, now you can do all those things, but just with the added twist of adult repercussions.

If I had a pound for every time my sixteen-year-old self sat downstairs with “her mate”, making awkward small talk about what A-Levels they were going to take, whilst my friend was upstairs getting it on with her friend, I would not be writing this. I would be shaking my ass on some boat near some island, because I’d be a very wealthy man. But yes, hosting the waiting room for your friends whilst they progress through the relationship hurdles of teenage sexuality was not the part time job I was looking for. It was beyond boring. I mean it wasn’t like I was going to join in anyway, I checked out of the female department pretty early, hence why the one girlfriend I did have (bless her) used to get mad when I said that “I wanted to wait until I’m married.” Oh, and God forbid I invited a boy over, so instead I played host downstairs to a plethora of characters, who to be quite frank probably didn’t want to be there either.

Long story short, I missed out on a lot. Having those moments, finding that person, but most of all making those shitty mistakes everyone makes when they’re a teenager in love. Prior to coming out, I had never been in love, never felt that feeling of “Wow, fuck me, I really care about you” in a non-platonic way. Then it happened, and boy did it happen. I met him. Let’s call him, Mr First, because he was the first, and it’s very clear he was the first because of how things went down. As soon as I met Mr First I just knew, I promise I’m not nuts, I really did just know that he was going to be a significant figure in my life whatever happens. I probably should have updated my life insurance at this point because I had incurred a big fall, I was madly in love. Never in my life, had I felt so strongly for someone, or cared so cautiously. It wasn’t about how beautiful he was; it was about him as a person, a human being, I found my first connection. After years of watching my friends conquer their first relationships, it was finally my turn, my time in the sun as one would say.

Whilst some friends wrote their dissertations and some settled into their corporate work lifestyles, I was busy worshipping the ground that Mr First walked on, and for a very long time it was magnificent. However, it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows with Mr First, like with any first relationship there are going to be problems. The difference is, I was dealing with these problems at a significantly later stage then all my friends had. They had already matured in that division of life.

Mr First and I would always joke to one another, “I wish I had met you later in life” and in hindsight we were probably both right. The boy really was something special, he really was the person I dreamed of in my head when I was around thirteen/ fourteen lying in bed wondering who my first boyfriend would be. Mr First made me smile a lot; he made me feel very safe. I remember lying in bed with him once when we were both as sick as dogs and I just thought that if we can sit here together like this, he must really love me. He also knew how to push my buttons, he would always say things like “well, hindsight is a wonderful thing” in response to arguments. It used to drive me insane, and in turn provoked many a reaction out of me. Now this is where the whole sixteen-year-old-self kicks in.

*Drum roll please*

Eventually, we broke up!

Bloody hell did it hurt.

As you can probably guess from just reading this erratically worded post, I did not react well at all to this, and to be quite honest I was totally heartbroken. I’m in my early twenties whilst all my friends are thriving and I’m barely surviving. I truly didn’t know what to do or how to behave. It was as if I had ‘Bust Your Windows’ by ‘The Glee Cast’ playing in my head on repeat. I was on one. How can you just cut me out like this? I thought you loved me. Did you ever love me? Is it because of the way I look? Spiralling to say the least, my campaign for justice on my relationship was well and truly underway. Poor boy.

Twat, Such a twat. Fuck man, hindsight really is such a wonderful thing, why did I ever behave like that.

I remember when it happened, the stench of heterosexual norms reeked through peoples ‘comforting’ messages: “Yes, but everyone goes through it”. Oh, I’m sorry JOSH, I didn’t realize that you also hid your true most authentic self for like twenty years, then finally felt like it was worth coming out, all to have it completely shat on. But yes JOSH, it’s the same. I was so terrified to come out and worked so hard to get to this place of being able to even have a relationship with a boy, that it just infuriated me when people would try and compare. The hetero-pool is so much bigger, nobody understands how different it can be, you didn’t have to sit your friends and family down first to be able to get to this position.

There is no handbook on how to deal with your first breakup, and like I mentioned previously, for people who come out slightly later, you’re going to develop this part of your life after some of your friends have. It’s only years on when two people go from lovers to strangers standing across the road from one another that I realised why I behaved the way I did. I was learning. I often giggle with embarrassment when I think about it. I was going through something that most people had already been through, it just looked worse because I was meant to be behaving like an adult at this point.

I may not have the power to turn back time or undo any of things said and done, but I learnt my lesson. In hindsight, things would be very different now had we met, I grew up a lot. A lot a lot. For so long after, I harboured so much anger towards Mr First. For a long-time, I really did think Mr First would also be Mr Last, but I can only imagine what he thinks of me today. It’s with hindsight and time that I’ve been able to learn that all the pain and mistakes were worth it because he gave me the gift of a lifetime, my first love. The moral of this story is, cut yourself some slack. Yes, you might look back and be mortified by the way you were, but this is all part of the beautiful thing we call life. Mistakes are there to be made, but with time and growth you learn what is right and what is wrong, and responsibility will be taken naturally.

All that’s left to say is I guess you could Say Mr First was right; Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Written by Anonymous