First love is like spring, though perhaps even more intoxicating. We come alive to others and our own bodies in a new way. And the object of our first love becomes like a golden-haired girl forever imprinted in the memory of our soul. But we invite much sorrow when we hold on too tightly to this spring and don’t allow fall and winter to mature and deepen our love.
Our golden-haired memory of first love is perfect. It’s pure, beautiful, and evocative. But we must see it for what it is – more symbolic than literal. The golden-haired girl of our dreams is less of an actual person and more of an icon reflecting our innocence and sexual awakening, our desires to be seen and special, and endless possibilities not yet tainted by heartbreak, shame, or duty.
And we rob ourselves of the freedom to enjoy mature love when we don’t make this distinction. For some it’s either holding on to past relationships well beyond their expiration date, or desperately trying to recreate this relationship perhaps as a type of fetish. Either way, it’s like trying to hold onto spring by putting wildflowers in a jar. While beautiful, also decaying.
Wisdom is learning to trust the pattern of nature. We don’t have to hold onto spring; it will come again. In the same way, we can remember with fondness our first meeting of the golden-haired girl without making an idol of her. Through the pain of heartache and loss we trust our youthful fantasies will eventually give way to true love.
In the end, the golden-haired memory of first love is a seed that allows your soul to blossom into deeper love. But you must first grieve it and let it go to discover true and lasting love on the other side.
