Why we fall in love with our teachers

We’ve all had that one teacher. All of us. The first time my friend fell in love with a teacher we were 12 or 13 years old. Don’t get me wrong, I liked him too, the man was beautiful (inside and out), and I really liked his classes. I just didn’t see what all the fuss was about. I couldn’t understand why they liked a teacher that much. When I was 15 years old, I met a French teacher, the first I fell in love with. I would rather miss any other class than his. There I was, front row, always with my friend by my side, and there we stood twice a week for the following three years. The second time I developed feelings for a teacher was the year before uni. The friend I’ve spoken about already fell in love (deeply in love) with the man who was giving her driving lessons. Another friend was completely in love with one of the doctors during her seminars in the hospital. So, again, don’t deny it, we’ve all had that one teacher.

Why? Is it because they have some kind of power over us? Because I’m telling you, my crushes weren’t even that attractive. They were good people, good teachers, they had a family, and they truly cared for their students. My love for them was not the “he’s perfect in every way” kind of love. In fact, they weren’t. They aren’t (yes, I’m still in touch with them). I know I could tell them everything (school related, guys, DON’T PANIC!). I argued with them, we exchanged opinions, our points of view were opposites most of the time. But they were honest, and they were wise.

In a moment of our lives when all the guys around us were busy being jerks or immature (or both, unless you were one of the lucky ones whose high school sweetheart is still that, a sweetheart), those teachers were heroes. Whether it was because they were handsome, or smart, or because they liked the same books you did, or because they made you see the world through another glass. They were everything we wanted our male classmates and friends to be. They were the ones who made us love a subject we used to hate. Or the ones who convinced us that taking German at uni was better than taking French (shouldn’t have listened in this particular case, though).

You don’t fall in love with your teacher because they are the teacher, or because you want to be their class pet and get better marks. You don’t choose to like them that much, it just sort of happens. There are a few times in life when you click with someone else, someone who encourages you to be the best version of yourself, someone who believes in you as much (sometimes even more) than your own mum. Someone who pushes and pressures you because they know you can take it. There was actually nothing sexual about my crushes (not the ones who were my teachers, at least), I just found a friend. A friend who was older and didn’t treat me like a kid. It had nothing to do with their looks.

We fall in love with our teachers because they are good teachers, and because they actually try their best to understand each one of their students (even the “cool kids/bad students” in my class grew fond of him by the end of the year). Those teachers will be the ones we will remember. The ones who made a difference in our lives. And that’s why we fall in love with our teachers.

I guess it comes with the job.