The One with the Teacher Crush

I didn't expect to be unrelentingly enchanted by my professor. It just sort of happened. You simply start to develop this peculiar fascination with somebody. A sense of longing, almost like an addiction. You learn to enjoy their presence. To find their being there comforting and reassuring to you. I had never gotten up the courage to out myself as a lesbian before university. I definitely didn't plan on doing so in the middle of the classroom with a number of other individuals there with me, including the professor in question. No. This was most certainly not on the syllabus for those years at the university.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline rush that had came over me because I was with several of my favorite people (friendships that still lasted long after we graduated), or maybe it was because as a psychology student I was learning how to more openly speak my mind...Just not so much how to use the filter section of brain. Does anyone else have that issue, or know someone who does? It's real, I promise.

Having said that, sometimes life just has a way of surprising you and giving you an insane amount of confidence. This, however, is not always for the better...or maybe it was?

These feelings began the first day I had class with her. We will call her Dr. E, because honestly I would die if she knew I wrote about this. That's probably a bit of an exaggeration, but it still stands. She taught Abnormal Psychology and an array of other courses at the institution. She was around 31 at the time, up against my 24 years of age. We had a few things in common, from our love for literature to our enjoyment at volunteering at the animal shelter. We were also both extreme introverts.

Thinking about it, this feeling of fondness towards her was almost instantaneous. Whether it was the combination of her part British and part French accent (that very much reminded me of some character on the television show Doctor Who), her adorable wardrobe that normally always included fall-colored scarfs, or perhaps the beautiful auburn locks that hung down her shoulders like an exquisite cape, I couldn't help but notice the way my heart would palpitate each time she spoke to me. Even just her entering the room was enough to cause it to flutter a bit.

I didn't understand it initially, and just tallied it up to being my social anxiety. You know, along with my general soaring level of awkwardness. It sort of made sense. I mean, it was my first year at a university. I basically pictured myself looking like a terrified baby owl the initial day I visited her office for help on an assignment.

Can you say AWKWARD? It also didn't help that I knew she was a mental health counselor. For some reason, this intimidated me. I wondered if she could tell how I was feeling. How I felt about her. And, on top of that, could she guess that I had depression? Could she read my mind? What if she thought I was crazy? Was I crazy? Should I be seeing somebody for my general sense of awkwardness and inability to hold a simple conversation? What was wrong with me? These thoughts definitely plagued my psyche as we spoke about the upcoming written assignment. At the same time, I enjoyed the few minutes that I had with her after a long day of classes. Somehow, my shyness faded away as we spoke.

This connection with her surged the longer I was at university. It increased in power, and in passion. The more I got to know her, and her thought process, the more strongly I began to admire her for so much more than just her looks and her alluring voice. I began working on a research idea that interested me (human-animal interaction with shelter dogs) and approached her about the possibility of her being my research advisor. She wholeheartedly agreed, as she was a strong proponent for helping out the shelter dogs, too. This was another thing I absolutely came to adore.

Within a few months, we were so close that I felt comfortable telling her about my depression that I was struggling with. She helped me get up the courage to go to a counselor for help with that and my anxiety. I remember one time she told me that I was the most dedicated and hardworking student she had ever came across. Little did she know, it was hard to not be that when working with her.

From that moment on, we worked together practically non-stop on research and data. She also helped me put together tables to help other students who struggled with mental health at the University Center. She taught me so much, and that's not including the several classes I took with her throughout the following years. The emotional intelligence she displayed seemed unmatched. I came to value her as more than just a professor, but as a role model, too.

I mean...really, with as much as she put up with me, I could not have possibly asked for a better mentor. We even put together a psychology research club! How cool is that?

With that said, I began to realize that the feelings I was developing for her weren't just the usual socially awkward dealings that a person like me could expect. No. This was something different. I was most certainly developing a full-blown girl crush on this woman. I had these types of crushes before, but was never brave enough to admit it to myself or anyone else, for that matter. It was a few semesters in before I even told my best friend Sarah about it. She was my sidekick throughout university. We didn't do any research without the other there with us.

Being the nerd that I was, and still am today, I decided to look around on the subject. I wanted to know what the research showed revolving around crushes on authority figures. Why did I feel the need to look into this? Well, I was curious and this was definitely one question that I was NOT going to be asking my research mentor about.

Anyways, regarding what I found, there is some research out there that suggests something called the "White Coat Phenomenon" at work here. Like the lab coats tell us to respect doctors and professionals in the health department, we also garner this sort of respect and admiration for those in front of the classroom. We admire them. We trust them. The respect between a student and faculty mentor levels out to be much like the respect that one feels for their parents.

During my final semester at the institution, I was leading a meeting with our research group. Sarah and I had been at the research lab all day running participants through for one of our other research projects. We were tired. We were excited about the weekend that awaited us. After the meeting was over, we found ourselves talking with each other about weekend plans.

Somehow, this changed over to a different topic...that being, intriguingly enough, our teacher crushes. I may have been the one to bring it up, seeing as we had already discussed a possibility of the research study earlier in the meeting and without Dr. E to guide us.

"To be honest, I can see how something would be there." My friend Sarah began. "I mean, who doesn't have a teacher crush?"

I chuckled at her as she looked over at me. She was the only one (at the time) who knew about it.

The other students in our group agreed. One of the newer club members, a freshman, mentioned that she had already found a teacher crush at the university and we were barely halfway through the semester. Isn't it funny how quickly they develop?

About this time, Dr. E walked in. She had heard part of the conversation.

"Crushes?" She asked with a smirk. She walked over to stand beside us. Sarah and I were perched on top of the desk closest to the door and coincidently were sitting right next to her. "I find this interesting. I know I had one on my professor in graduate school."

I chuckled in agreement, feeling a great sense of glee at the fact that this idea had skyrocketed the way it did. Would we end up researching it? I wasn't sure, but just the thought alone, and of being on the verge of our next research topic, sent shivers down my spine. My neurons had to have been firing around my brain like popcorn exploding in the microwave.

"You have a teacher crush?" Dr. E asked, picking up that I was hiding something. She was aghast because this was one of the few topics I had not discussed with her. She almost appeared offended. "What? Who?!"

At this point, I should have tapered myself back. However, being awkward and honestly verbally clumsy me, I didn't. No. That would have been silly, right? Instead, I thought it would be great to say (what I thought was beneath my breath):

"You, home-girl. My teacher crush is you."

Next to me, Sarah covered her mouth quickly to hide her amusement at the words I had just uttered. A bit too late, the blonde 24-year old nudged me on the shoulder in an attempt to get me to shut up. The other students started to laugh.

The conversation had definitely just taken an awkward turn, my face going beat red as I realized what I had just done. I looked over at her, my eyes widening in shock. Dear in headlights. That was me. To be honest, I wanted to run out of the room. Could I? I remember looking expectantly towards the doorway. I could always say an emergency came up. Me being me, no one would question that.

But, there was something else that was greater than my embarrassment for what I had just admitted. My anxiety rocketed upwards. What did this mean? Would she get offended? Would she think that we couldn't work together anymore? Had I just managed to successfully cut off the most incredible mentorship I had ever forged with someone?

Thankfully, Dr. E handled this much better than I did. She could tell that I was completely abashed at what had taken place, so she cleverly changed the subject. However, something told me we would be talking about it later. After a year with her, I was getting much better at reading my mentor.

Subsequently, as we were preparing to go home, Dr. E asked me to come visit with her in her office. It was about the research, she said.

Rather nervously, I followed her inertly down the hall. Sarah stayed behind.

Oh my God. This was going to be awful. What was she going to say? Was she mad at me? Disappointed? Was I about to get detention? Did students in university get detention?

My mind was in warp drive. You know how fast the TARDIS travels through all of time and space? Like velociously, quicker than anything else in the universe? It was going about that speed. There was no telling what my heart rate was at that moment in time.

I could not fathom the last time I felt so uneasy, let alone around her. And that's saying a lot, considering the fact that I had presented four different research projects with her by my side. In all of the most memorable moments that I had already experienced with her, this was definitely amongst the top five of that list.

Once we walked into her dimly-lit office (she liked it dark, due to her frequent migraines), I was thankful to shut the door behind us. I was also hoping that she couldn't see how silly I felt right now. My professor went over to her desk, patting me comfortingly on the shoulder as she passed. Unfortunately, I still noticed my heart pace quickening. I sat down in the student chair across from her. My forehead rested against my palm as I leaned into the arm of the chair. My eyes, however, were glued to the floor in shame.

"I'll be honest, Amber..." She started then, her voice softer than normal. Empathetic as she worked to understand how I was feeling. "I did not expect that. I wouldn't have asked you if I had known. I'm sorry. And that's only because I can tell you are not feeling great about it now."

"It's not a big deal," I lied, glancing up at her. I attempted to wave the conversation away. Even still, I could feel my face hot with embarrassment. I wanted to cry. To curl up into a ball in bed and never come out again.

"Do you realize that you would have not ever said that this time last year when I first met you?" She asked, and I realized that she was trying to make this a victory for me. For both of us.

"Well," I told her rather awkwardly with a scoff. "I don't think I really planned on telling you. You're married. You're straight...so why would I have? Stupid."

"Not the point," she dismissed the fact easily. She leaned back in her chair and began to watch me, chewing at her lip as she thought about her next words. "You nearly skipped that class when I had you and your classmates present disorders in Abnormal Psych, didn't you? I recall you telling me that at the end of the class period."

"Yes," I said, thinking back only briefly. I shook my head. "That was because I was so shy back then. I didn't want to speak to anyone, let alone be in front of the classroom. And honestly right now I wish I hadn't ever gotten out of that because this is so embarrassing."

"Don't say that," She chastised me lightly. She watched me sternly for a moment. "Look where you are now? You just opened up in front of at least a dozen people about something extremely personal. So many wouldn't have had the courage to do that. You were honest and you were you. Please tell me you see how big of an accomplishment that is?"

I rolled my gaze to the ceiling above, much like a child would when getting lectured by her mother. Her words sounded so incredibly cheesy. I mean...really? Why would I want to go through this? I'd rather be insecure again. Could I leave now?

Her mouth formed a grimace then as she narrowed her eyes at me in warning. "Do not roll your eyes at me again or else I will give you a kick you in the rear. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Although she had definitely torn into me a time or two, both days of which I most certainly needed it, I couldn't help but grin then. I hated to admit it, but I suppose I could see where she was getting at. I had been honest. I had been sincere. I wasn't trying to hide so much anymore.

"I guess it's not the worst thing if you're not going to like disown me as your research student or something."

"If I were going to do that I would have done it a long time ago," she scoffed with her own grin now. "Really, though. Everyone gets those at one point in their college career. Are you good?"

I remember feeling such a wave of relief right here. Not only because she didn't think I was a first-rate creeper, but because she had basically told me that my feelings were valid. Not only that, but that it was a triumph for me to have admitted them like I did.

Looking back, I did have something to be proud of that day, even if I had unwittingly admitted one of my deeper secrets in front of everyone. When I first moved to the university, leaving my parents and childhood friends behind, I was the quietest student in the room. I wouldn't ask questions, speak my thoughts, or even go to office hours. I thought about dropping out at one point because my depression got so bad. Making friends was hard for me. Being who I was was even harder.

By the time I graduated, I felt like I knew who I was. Like I knew where I was going, and like I knew what I wanted in this rollercoaster called life that I was on. It was a powerful change that I honestly hadn't expected to experience. It was how I found my voice.

All and all, we each have moments in our lives that we would rather not be in the recollection bank of our memory. Times where we made fools of ourselves in one way or another. Days that we really just wish we could forget. Do I long to forget this? Initially, I most certainly did. I mean, wouldn't you?

Today, as I type this, not so much. It marked a turning point for me.

With that being said, human beings are incredible. We have so much potential. So much power to change the world, and to change ourselves. By nourishing who we are and by challenging ourselves to become better than who we were before, we can create something truly amazing. Don't be afraid of being you. Be afraid of being so deeply fake that you lose yourself in the process. Be you.

If you enjoyed this story of mine, feel free to send me a heart! I would also love any feedback from you. My email is [email protected]. Thanks for checking out my work!