By Dina Aldabbagh

I worked in an elementary school for some time, and I’m not sure how much of an intellectual impact I had on those kids, but I can safely say that they taught me more than I taught them. Working with children, I internalized a lot of life philosophies that I think as adults, we stray away from. Typically out of fear, shame, and doubt. But kids — kids are honest. They are honest little representations of human beings. And not just humans at an elementary level, but at our core. I observed so much of myself or other adults I knew in these kids. Kids are observable forces because of their honesty. 

When I began the year, I immediately took a liking to some kids over others. Yes, I had favorites. What was interesting was noticing how my favorites changed throughout the year. Initially, there were some kids who I just liked more based on their personality. But over time, I’d have specific kids run up to me and hug me at the start of class. I’d have them scream my name across the halls when they saw me. I’d have them ask me questions about myself and my life. I’d have them tell me they love me. 

Without intentionality, these kids shifted to being my favorites. Those who so openly and enthusiastically loved me, I felt love for in return. I just found myself looking forward to walking into their class, seeing their smile when they saw me, and having them run up to me for a hug. I loved loving them. I saw sweetness and the desire to love in them, and I very willingly met them halfway. 

I didn’t stop liking the kids I initially favored, but another dynamic came into play. While I noticed some kids who could really use the loving or who I personally wanted to give a little extra attention to, I didn’t want to do anything they didn’t want. I didn’t want to go hug a child who would have been made uncomfortable from hugging me. I didn’t want to give extra attention to a kid who wasn’t interested in my spotlight. I just didn’t want to make any kid uncomfortable by extending myself as an adult further than I got to observably see they were okay with. 

This, in turn, shut off some kids from me. While there were a number of kids who I just wanted to give the biggest hug to and tell them they had a safe space with me, I was careful to not cross their sense of what was safe with me. They didn’t motion towards me, so I didn’t push. I can love you, but I won’t force you to accept it. I won’t push you. 

I thought similarly with one kid who I had a huge soft spot for — and who was a bit of a troublemaker that struggled in school. I could see that he felt dumb and hated getting extra attention to help him, thereby highlighting how much help he needed. And while I would’ve patiently sat with him as long as he let me, I wasn’t going to force him to let me help him. My focus on helping him understand concepts rather than just accepting he didn’t know and calling out the next kid was inadvertently making him uncomfortable. He didn’t want that much attention. So I withdrew. It doesn’t matter so much to make him understand the concept as it does to make sure he feels safe. 

So those kids who oh so boldly loved me, so loudly, so plainly in front of everyone else, they are who received my love. At least, to the highest degree. It is those kids who received my attention, my energy, my extra help, my extra bit of sweetness. All because I knew they wanted it. That’s what going first to love someone does: it gives them the permission slip to love you too. 

And often, who loves first and who loves most is not directly proportionate. Many times, someone who you love first will love you more. But they just need to have the “go ahead.” They need to know you want it. I probably did love those kids more than they did me, but I only extended my love a certain amount until they met me and grabbed my hand, showing me they wanted to be there too.

Now, is it very likely that some of those other kids wanted my most potent love, but didn’t feel comfortable to be so bold in asking for it? Surely. Maybe not in all, but in some. But to put it plainly, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I can’t read their minds and it is my own personal value to respect the intimacy someone does or does not want in a relationship. I was unwilling to push them past a point of what didn’t feel good for them, and perhaps that resulted in some kids not feeling loved by me, but I didn’t know. That’s the key: we don’t know. We can’t tell if those who are silent and shying away from us are afraid to ask for love or if they genuinely don’t want it. And out of respect for their comfortability, we don’t push. We give them the space they seem to want.

This is why the power to go first in loving someone, to be vulnerable in saying, “I want this,” is so impactful. By showing a person that you want them there with you, you want their love, and you want to love them, you open the path for them to love you back. If you don’t show people that you want to have a loving relationship with them, their instinct is not to push you. They could make the first move in trying to overtly love you, but their predisposition is not to pressure you.

Notice how different my approach was from the children I worked with. They came up to me and grabbed my hands. They threw their arms around my waist and said they loved me. They didn’t hold back or think that perhaps I didn’t want to love them right in return. They just moved towards me. Yet with the children — while I am very used to being open and loving with kids — these were not my children or my family’s children, and I was hesitant to cross a line. While I do think that was a better approach considering the power dynamic at play between teacher and student, it goes to show the effect of loving first versus loving defensively. 

The kids who loved me first, I loved back. The kids who did not love me first, I feared that my love would make them uncomfortable. Therefore, the amount of love I did give them was what I considered the appropriate amount for a teacher to give a student. Whereas those other kids veered more into babysitting relationship territory. That is the effect of going first. You get from others what they feel safe enough to give you. 

As adults, we often hold shame around so plainly desiring someone’s love or assuming they want ours. But do you see the contrast? Those who go first in loving others believe they already want their love too. Those who go first assume they’re worthy of receiving others’ love. They don’t even consider that loving someone else first may make them uncomfortable. They just give their love. They assume closeness — because they assume that’s what you want too. You can only love first when your self worth permits you to believe good things about the value of your love and the desire others have for it. 

We all love feeling loved. We gravitate towards it. Your desire does influence others’. I’m more inclined to like someone who clearly likes me. Simply for the reason that it feels good to be loved, and that’s a relationship that seems worthy to invest in. Human beings are simple, and kids showed me that so clearly. We don’t really care where the love comes from, we just want love. 

Your ability to go first with others will get you so far in life. And the way you arm yourself to be able to go first is to believe in your lovability and your self worth. Harvest good beliefs about yourself and you free yourself to make power moves in life. While everyone plays the defensive, you can take the O. The quarterback is who calls the plays, and the rest of the team follows suit. You can either assume leadership of your life or fall into following the shots others call. Let me tell you a secret: everyone wants to be led. People are so tired of constantly making moves that they yearn to just sit back and allow whatever happens to happen. If you can just extend yourself far enough to allow others to feel safe in picking up the thread, you can get everything you want in life. 

Go first. The world is waiting for your move.