It was the hot summer of 1999. Her parents sent her to a summer camp 80 km south of Moscow. Equally terrified and excited, she packed her bags with short black dresses, two pairs of beige sandals, and the three most recent issues of Vogue (in hopes of forming a reading club with like-minded females, as these magazines were a luxury back then).
The first thing she saw upon arrival at the camp was a 15-year-old boy with picture-perfect face, broad shoulders, and strong muscular legs. Her hormonal fluctuations led her to believe he was attractive. Unfamiliar with this feeling, she quickly brushed it off and went on to meet her new roommates.
What unfolded in the following days was a Charlie Chaplin-worthy performance, with almost every single girl following the boy mercilessly and flirting like there was no tomorrow. The boy was showered with food and cold lemonade, offers of dance lessons, walks in the woods, romantic poetry, and some of the most exquisite compliments a woman can give a man.
But there was something that the boy couldn’t wrap his head around — one of the shy girls with short blond hair, beige sandals, and a black dress displayed no inkling of interest in him whatsoever. She avoided his gaze, refrained from exchanging pleasantries, and seemed utterly indifferent to his presence. His confusion turned to a mixture of hurt and frustration, plaguing his thoughts day and night. She consumed his mind entirely, leaving him unable to find solace even in sleep.
A few days before the final dance party and everyone’s departure home, the boy approached the girl. His hands were trembling, he couldn’t look her in the eyes, and his whole being was screaming for acceptance. He revealed his feelings and asked her to the dance. To his surprise, she agreed, not out of affection but driven by teenage rivalry and the thrill of victory.
Their brief romance lasted just four days, ending with the camp. His choice wasn’t about her qualities; it was a testament to his ego. He needed to prove to himself that he was enough—that even the most resistant could fall for his charms.
Could the boy feel like that if not for the girl’s denial and then acceptance of him? Maybe, but not at 15. Maybe at 30 or 40, or maybe 55? We all mature at different times. And we all, at times, lack confidence in ourselves, doubt if we are enough. We seek others’ approval. And those who disapprove of us — we have to change their minds, or else we feel worthless.
Anna Meshcherova 