By Michelle Stimpson
I fell in love for the first time at the tender age of fourteen with a guy whom we’ll just call “Dante.” Though my parents and other adults teased me and told me it was puppy love, I disagreed with them. I loved me some Dante, and I was convinced that he and I would be together forever. Well, we weren’t together forever, but we remained friends for many years. He even paid for my first piece of furniture when I moved into my college apartment.
One of the things I remember most about the relationship with Dante is how much he respected me. True, sometimes we’d get on the phone and start talking about things we had no business discussing, but we never acted on those romantic ideas. Years later, when we were both adults, I asked Dante why he never tried to get me to have sex with him like so many other guys tried when I was a teenager. He got quiet for a minute as he thought about the response. Then he answered,…
