The Teacher

I met Mandy and Gina at Wheaton, we became best friends and were roommates for two years. Then we moved to Boulder. They are my girls. We schedule three-way calls every month and see each other at least once a year. We’ve been best friends for over half our lives.  

During college and in the years after, I visited their homes a LOT. Gina in Connecticut and Mandy in Ohio. I loved their families and loved visiting their homes. I visited enough that I also was introduced to their friends from high school and even came to be friends with some of their friends.  

After she moved away from Boulder, I visited Mandy frequently in Ohio. Lots of times when I visited, her friend, Alex, would throw a party. He was the only one who owned a house back then. We would booze it up for Christian kids, drinking wine and occasional cocktails. Mandy’s high school math teacher was always invited to these parties. She was older than us, of course, but she was lots of fun and maintained friendships with many of her former students. She was also a closeted lesbian. Some of us wondered about her sexuality and thought she might be gay, but she taught at a private Christian high school and could not be out; otherwise, she would be fired.  

I first met Kelly, Mandy’s former teacher, during my senior year when she visited Mandy at Wheaton. I do not remember meeting her, but she has since told me that the first time we met I was standoffish, so she was a little scared of me. Apparently, the second time we met, I focused and engaged in conversation with her which eased her fear. (So nice of me.) 

At Alex’s parties, she and I usually ended up finding our way to each other. She was charming, funny, and interested in me and my life.

And there was a connection between us, a chemistry, an attraction. It was impossible for me to ignore it for very long. 

Kelly was a letter writer. She much preferred it to email. She began writing the occasional letter or card to me. It was off and on, but I wrote her back sometimes. Through the letter writing, our relationship developed from acquaintance to casual friend to something more substantive. We talked about Alex all the time. See, Kelly and Alex were close friends. Alex was gay and in the process of coming out. He was in love with his best friend and Kelly told me about all the new developments and ensuing drama in her letters. I hoped that in talking about Alex, Kelly would open up about her personal attractions. I was curious about her but also super judgy. I didn’t understand how she could reconcile her faith with her attractions, how she could teach at a Christian school if she was gay, why she just didn’t come out.  

I had not yet admitted to myself that I was so curious about her because I too liked women. I realized that I developed crushes on women but it did not worry me too much. It was kind of fun, kind of a distraction for me.

Maybe I liked having a little dark secret because I had been such a good Christian girl my whole life.

Plus, I still thought I would end up with a guy. I was going on the occasional date. I still felt “normal” for the most part. Kelly felt a little dangerous to me, but I kept her at arm’s length. And went on with my life. 

Until New Year’s Eve night, 2002. I was visiting Mandy in Ohio. She had recently started dating the guy who would become her husband. We three went to a party that Alex was throwing. And Kelly was there. Because she and I had been exchanging letters, we made our way to each other and stayed that way. We had things to talk about and inside jokes to bond us because of our letters. As the night progressed, friends would join us and then move on, but we remained together. We flirted. We connected. I was present. I was engaged. I was in the moment taking it all in, taking her all in.

At one point in the evening, I stepped away to get another drink. And that’s when I realized — my body was tingling, buzzing, like I had run lickety-split into an electric fence. Zing!

My mind may have made excuses for my interest in her, but my body refused to lie. I was attracted to Kelly. Full-stop. No denying it, not even from this serial self-denier. Every part of my being was singing, reverberating, whirring. And my heart?…well, it was overflowing. I was a goner. I was exhilarated and beside myself with fear. This was real. No more theoretical what-ifs played out in my head, no more namby-pamby daydreams. I was hooked, enthralled, spell-bound.

I could NOT feel this way about her, about a woman. I had been waiting all my life to feel this way about a man. NOT a woman. I absolutely, 100 percent, did not know what to do. I felt like I was going to explode. I was so so agitated, my body and heart rioting against my brain. My mind was saying…no, it was yelling…Alert! Run For Your Life! Run For The Hills! Do Not Engage. Whatever You Do, Do Not Engage!

My body and my heart were crying…I Want More. Please More.  

We continued talking. I kept trying to impress her. She kept making me laugh. At some point, Mandy and her boyfriend wanted to leave for another party. I, of course, wanted to stay. I knew they wouldn’t leave me behind so I relented at last and left with them. But I insisted on being taken home. Mandy and I argued because I refused to go to another party. She begged me to come. It was New Year’s Eve! I told her I was tired, that they needed to take me back to her apartment. I couldn’t tell her why. I just knew I had to be alone with my thoughts, to try and make some sort of sense of what had happened.  

Finally, she caved and I was alone in her apartment, alone to sort through the mess of it all. I was excited, basking in my feelings for Kelly, and I was upset and terrified by what it all meant. I could not stop thinking about her, playing out endless scenarios in my head about how I would express my interest to her. I ended up writing a letter to Kelly, telling her how I felt, spilling my guts out and opening my heart to her. I went to bed still very agitated, but I did not know what else to do. I heard Mandy come in about 3 am, heard her change and slip into bed, heard her heavy breathing signaling she was asleep and still I could not settle down. As the sun was coming up, I fell asleep. And, in the morning, I felt calmer. 

I never mailed that letter. I lost my nerve. 

Instead, I ran. I disengaged. Cut off contact with Kelly.  

I have had a lot of gracious, patient, loving people in my life. She, like Matt, did not go away. I mean she did. She got the hint and stopped writing letters. But then I saw her again months later. And she was witty and funny and interested in me. And I could not resist. So, again, we began writing letters.