Crush energy is the emotional counterpart to the physicality of making out, that time-honoured high school practice of staying clothed and being absolute disgusting horndogs. I was the kid who aced every sex-ed quiz, starting in grade five, so I knew exactly what was happening when I kissed someone; at the same time, knowledge of the vas deferens did nothing to help me negotiate the titillating combination of fear and horniness that came with every makeout session. I loved kissing in high school—if there ever was pressure to go beyond that, it wasn't from guys I really liked, so I felt secure in my decision/destiny to wait until I was "a bit older" to really get busy. The fear stemmed from the well of teen insecurity, doing something new, and the taboo of exploring your budding sensuality with another fifteen year old. If I'm being honest, I still love making out—it's in my top three favourite things, for sure—because it can bring all the emotional and physical highs of....a lot of other things...without the emotional and physical mess.
I am, historically, absolutely awful at interacting with crushes. I have had crushes dating back to high school, who, when I see them now—as a 37-year-old married mother—I will still sprint away. (Ask me about the time I hid from an old crush in the aisles of an art supply store!) I experience this as a crush hangover, a residue of awkwardness and inability to interact that I've carried with me to this very day, despite the fact that, in the last 20 years, I've convinced several many men and women to want this body and/or brain. Crushes, when I was younger, were scary because they might lead to dating, and dating might reveal what an absolute mess I am. Now that we're all in our late 30s, the messiness is no longer a shameful secret, but something I post about daily on Instagram. Thus, crush energy has shifted significantly as I've gotten older, but the ones that I started when I was young are still running on my most outdated software.
Crushes are independent of any relational hierarchies: crushes can happen on celebrities, total strangers, passing acquaintances, friends, friends-of-friends, co-workers, bosses, neighbours, whatever. It's possible to maintain those exact relationships while still nursing a crush. After all, there's no prerogative to actually act on anything here. Having a crush on someone can be a funny aside to your main relationship, a secret that you keep that elevates you and you alone.
When I younger, a crush could be kick-started almost exclusively from the killer combo of quirky handsomeness, a sense of humour, and a certain je ne sais quoi that might be described, in full detail, as "cool guy." (My crushes on women are often complicated by their hotness factor—do I want to make out with her, or just borrow her body for a while? Is she just really stylish, or should we kiss? Are we friends? Are we gal pals??) I was also firm in my self-conception that I, as a person, would not attract crushes to myself. I was forever a moth, never a lightbulb. I'm still not entirely convinced that anyone has crushed on me the way I've crushed on others, but y'know what? There's still time. I'm planning to be a hot-ass crone.
Now that I'm older, I find myself still drawn to that same trio of characteristics, but the "cool guy" factor is different now. Former Beastie Boys have it—lifetime membership to that club, as far as I'm concerned—but the dads at the playground who goof off with their kids, or the guy at the coffee shop who seems to be working on a business plan, or the local non-profit farm educator, are also in that category: interesting dudes who have their shit together, or are working on it. If you took a poll of my friends, a top sexiness factor would be "does he have a therapist?" and the only right answer is yes. (We all need therapy, no shame. If you're a dude in your 20s, 30s, or 40s and have never had a therapist, go get one! It's great! You'll get to feel your feelings, the ones you've been stuffing down for the better part of three decades!)
To me, the true gift of crush energy is the potential it carries, and how transferable it turns out to be. It acts as an inebriant in my own relationship: interacting with a crush onscreen or IRL allows me to come back and be a little flirty with my husband, a little cute. Inside my relationship, we ebb and flow, as all marriages do, with attraction and desire and kindness and fun; crush energy is a battery cable for those feelings, but you still get in your own car to drive it. Crush energy is potential, it's sensuality, it's a life-force that can knock us backwards when we're used to a lower level of intensity. But if it's a wave, it's one we can learn how to ride responsibly, like those surfers who also do activism for coral reefs. Crush energy begs us to pay attention, to feel sexy, to notice what we like in ourselves and what that part of us is drawn to. It's aspirational, it's physical, and fuck: it's fun.
