Not long ago, we hosted a couple to celebrate their recent engagement. My husband had known the woman for several years, and we were getting to know her fiancé better. As dessert was being served, the fiancé mentioned to my husband that they had met about 12 years prior. It was clear that his first impression of my husband was not very positive. He then shared how nice it was to get to know my husband better tonight in this context and see his more personal side.

I laugh when I think of the first time I met my friend Jennifer. It was 5th grade. I had just started a new school. I knew some of the kids because it was in the same school district, however I was still feeling like the new kid. This was a familiar feeling and not a good one. At this point, I had attended three other schools. I always felt like the new kid. Just as I would start to get comfortable, I would be forced to leave.

When I tell people that I attended 5 different schools and lived in 8 different places by the time I was 12 years old, they often ask if my family was in the military. The answer is no. My parents separated when I was 4 years old and divorced shortly thereafter. I lived primarily with my mom. Resources were limited, and my mom was convinced  that there was a geographic fix to whatever was the issue of the day. This is why we moved- a lot.

Jennifer was the exact opposite of me. She had always lived in her hometown, in the exact same house. She had grown up with our classmates. She had a generous smattering of freckles with a big toothy grin. She appeared comfortable and confident. I had just started wearing glasses, thick glasses and was not yet wearing the braces that would eventually close the wide gap between my two front teeth. I was possibly a little frustrated and definitely reserved. Here I was the new kid again.

5th grade started with a particularly challenging set of circumstances. Late in the summer before school started, my mom had become enamored of a local Greek restaurant. We both loved the live music, throwing plates, and the delicious food. On a whim, my mom booked a cruise to Greece and Turkey. We left about a week into 5th grade. We flew to Athens, Greece. Our luggage was lost. We were jet-lagged. I was not living up to my mom’s expectations. Long story short, once our luggage was found and the jet-lag abated, our moods improved, and this remains one of my favorite vacation memories.

Of course when we returned two weeks later, I had to go back to school. I had not made friends and I had missed a key fundamental math concept. I caught up in math, thanks to my teacher. Friends were harder. One day soon after my return, I remember looking in Jennifer’s direction. There had been a noise, loud enough to warrant turning in my seat. I caught her eye, and the look she returned was scathing. I was immediately cowered. 

By the end of 5th grade, we were the best of best friends. We were inseparable. We dressed identically for a special trip to Disneyland. We would laugh at that first impression. She doesn’t remember why she gave me such a sour look; who knows if she truly did. I don’t remember how we first started talking. 

I have learned to be careful about first impressions. There is still a bit of that reserve in me when I enter into a new space or new group of people. I remind myself to stay open and relaxed as I encounter new environments. To breathe. These tools combined with maturity help, and since I am human, I am guilty of the occasional snap judgement of a first impression.