Tuesday, 2 a.m. The phone on my nightstand lit up. A single message. Sender: Junhyuk (31). I still call him “that man.”
I’m tired—why did you have to like me first?
That’s exactly why it’s boring.
The sentence ended, but the meaning hung in the air. I have never once been chosen first. Always the latecomer, always someone’s last resort.
Why did I start this again, knowing that?
The Basement of Desire
The first glances exchanged on street corners. The cinematic moment when “that person” turns around. Instagram stories captioned, “A surprise just for you.”
All of them feed us the same formula:
You are special. You must be adored first.
No one has ever applied that formula to me. So I read it backward:
- Since I’m not special anyway,
- To look special, I have to move first,
- Yet while moving, I still hope the other will react first—
That contradiction turned me into a kind of serial killer of my own affections. When the barista handed back my loyalty card, I brushed his knuckles and asked, “Movie next week?” The fatal mistake was mistaking his polite nod for the signal that he wanted me. The instant that delusion cracked, I discarded the entire relationship.
Miyeong, Jaehoon, and Me
Miyeong (27)
Miyeong was a trainer at the neighborhood gym. During our first session, she held my waist and said, Don’t be someone who lowers their head—stand tall. I pretended to be tall and waited for her to text first. Three months. Six. A year. She ended up having an affair with another member. Why? Because he confessed to her first.
I thought waiting was natural. I thought someone would eventually pick me.
Jaehoon (29)
Jaehoon was a senior in the company club. He smiled with his eyes every time he saw me. I believed that smile was meant only for me. One Friday we drank alone.
“Jaehoon, do you… like me?” “Hm? Oh, I like everyone.”
When the alcohol wore off, I blocked his number. That night I realized he had never wanted me first—and the shame was unbearable.
Why the Obsession with Being First?
Psychologists call it the First-Choice Complex. Those born as the unplanned child, the second son, the youngest—anyone perpetually standing behind someone else—are easy prey.
- Reactive over-performance: Fearing the other won’t respond, you prepare too much, too soon.
- Pre-emptive rejection: Convinced you won’t be chosen, you break it off first.
- Deceptive seriality: Terrified you’ll never be chosen, you act as if you did the choosing.
This illness turns love into gambling. I keep going all-in. The other never calls. I always lose.
Tuesday, 3 a.m. I unblocked Junhyuk. Seeing the green dot beside his name, I typed:
Sorry. I made the first move. That’s why it’s boring.
He replied instantly.
No. It wasn’t that you liked me first—it’s that because you liked me, I felt special.
Wait. In this moment, am I missing something?
No. It’s already too late. I never chose you first.
Are you, right now, desperate to be someone’s first? Or are you pretending to deny that desire while ruining yet another relationship?