Note: This article has been excerpted from Relational Intelligence: How leaders can expand their influence through a new way of being smart, by Steve Saccone.
Although Carly and I had been in 8th grade together, something changed when I saw her in 9th grade. When she walked into the room, it seemed that every teenage boy had his eye on the girl I thought was the prettiest one at school. But there was a big obstacle to asking her out: her beauty intimidated me.
After a couple months, I stopped allowing my fear of rejection to stifle my pursuit. I devised a scheme to ask her out that guaranteed a response of yes. It was a simple strategy, one that many others use when they're young and infatuated (and even when they are adult men with perceived courage and strength). I decided to ask her friends if she "liked me," while ensuring that she wouldn't find out that I liked her. To my surprise, I discovered that Carly had a little thing for me as well!
She agreed to go out with me, but for 14-year-olds, what is dating anyway? I wasn't even old enough to drive. The only money I had was from my parents for taking out the trash and washing dishes. For me, dating involved seeing each other at lunch and at our lockers between classes. Of course we also talked on the phone at night, which was often filled with uncomfortable silence. But isn't awkwardness the teenage modus operandi? I decided to move forward anyway.
Two weeks into our "dating relationship," I took Carly on our first date. That is, I asked to see if her mom could drop her off at my house on Friday night—and she did. After she met my parents, they went into the next room and left us by ourselves. I was nervous about whether we could make conversation for two hours; after all, I was a teenage boy used to having entire conversations consisting of grunts and comments on bodily functions. But in an effort to avoid this dilemma, I had rented a romantic comedy. After the movie, I was hoping we would have only a few minutes before her mom came; although I really liked her, I didn't know what to talk about.
But I tried.
"How did you like the movie?" I asked.
"It was good. How did you like it?"
"I thought it was good, too."
That's about the extent of the conversation.
As we sat on my couch, I wanted to connect so badly, but didn't really know how. So I came up with a seemingly brilliant solution. I decided to take our relationship to the next level. I slowly put my arm around her and started rubbing her shoulder. Then my clammy palm grasped hers as I looked into her big brown eyes and attempted to create a meaningful moment. The next thing that came tumbling out of my mouth was, "I love you."
She just sat there looking at me with a blank stare. It was not so much the look of affection and adoration I was hoping for, but more the look of someone standing in the middle of the road about to get hit by a Mack truck. Saying, "I love you" in that moment was the verbal equivalent of someone jamming a stick into my bike spokes while going 30 miles per hour.
After what seemed like an eternity, Carly managed to get out two words: a confused "Thank you?" Of course she had no idea how to respond. What else could she say? It's no surprise that our relationship ended shortly thereafter. In an effort to take our relationship to the next level, I had said something completely foolish, and it produced the opposite effect from what I wanted. Instead of bringing us closer, it broke us apart.