The Posh Paw Blog

Write about your first crush.

It was sixth grade, and love arrived not on a white horse—but in a navy blue backpack with frayed straps and a patch of Sonic the Hedgehog. His name was Aaron, and he sat two rows ahead of me in math class. I remember exactly how he tilted his chair back (the teachers hated it), the way he twirled his pencil like a magician, and how he always—always—wore mismatched socks.

And oh, did I think he was the coolest thing that ever happened to a recess field.

Back then, a crush wasn’t about candlelit dinners or poetic texts—it was about the way your heart flipped when someone passed you the soccer ball. It was about inventing reasons to walk past their desk. It was about slipping a note into a locker with bubble letters and folded corners and absolutely panicking afterward.

I remember we were lining up for gym class when he looked at me—really looked. “You got new shoelaces?” he asked. My whole soul lit up. Reader, I did have new shoelaces. They were neon green. He had noticed.

For a week after that, I was sure we were soulmates.

I wrote his name in the margins of my notebook, doodled a little heart, and then dramatically scribbled it out whenever anyone came near. I practiced how I’d say “hi” to him in the hallway, and then absolutely chickened out every time. It was tragic. It was glorious. It was first love.

Of course, nothing came of it. By spring, he was “going out” with a girl from his soccer team, which meant they awkwardly stood near each other at lunch while pretending not to be together. My heart broke in the melodramatic way only an eleven-year-old’s can. I swore I’d never love again.

Two weeks later I had a new crush—one who liked space camp and gave me a friendship bracelet.

But Aaron? He was the first. The one who made me understand that butterflies weren’t just for stomach flu and that sometimes love starts with shoelaces and ends with nothing but a story. Still, what a beautiful story it was.

So tell me, love—who was your Aaron?
Was it the kid who shared their fruit snacks, the one who helped you cheat on your spelling test, or the mystery crush you never had the courage to talk to? Drop a memory in the comments—I promise I’ll read every single one, with a smile and probably a giggle.

Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that first crushes never really leave us. They just grow up, just like we did.