She Saw Titanic at 3 Years Old, You'll Never Guess the First Love That Happened Next

In the words of critically acclaimed lyrical genius Sheryl Crow, the first cut is the deepest. Baby, I know. (Actually, Sheryl is only relevant in my life when riding in the car with a newly heartbroken friend. It seems to be generally effective, though in this case I’m not sure Sheryl could do the trick). I start with this quote because whether or not we have been in a mutually-exclusive, loving relationship with a significant other, we have all been elevated to the heights by infatuation and undying loyalty, only to be smashed to smithereens on the cold, hard ground like a impractical but sentimental ceramic pot you made for your mother in middle school art class.

You probably know where this is going.

*enter Leonardo DiCaprio*

I first saw Titanic in theaters when I was three years old. My mother’s decision to take me to see this was supported by a few things: I was well-behaved and would maybe be able to make it through the entire movie, I was only three and therefore would not be able to comprehend any suggestive themes, and she wanted to see the film.

I sat alert and focused through the movie, to my aunt and mom’s mild surprise, and it wasn’t until a few days later as I gazed out of the window from my car seat that I said, “Mommy, he loved her so much” (Read with soft “r”s). It took her a moment to realize that I was contemplating the great love that I had seen demonstrated on the screen, and she was a little shocked that I had become emotionally invested in the film.

While perhaps thinking about Jack Dawson wasn’t necessarily an everyday thing from then onward, any time Celine came (comes) on, I was (am) wrecked. The beginning flute notes were (are) enough to fill my eyes with nostalgic tears, and I can’t yet cut out that stump of bitterness against Rose because WHAT ABOUT TURNING SIDEWAYS ON THE FLOATING DOOR????? YOU BOTH COULD HAVE LIVED.

However, in recent years, Leo has taken some less than flattering roles. I respect his decisions as an actor, though The Wolf of Wall Street’s opening scene was enough to chip away at my image of him as the ideal man. The Revenant is another that was hard to watch, as no one wants to witness the person you first loved being mauled by a bear for more than a few seconds, and this one lasted a solid ten minutes.

In recent years, it has also come to my attention that Leo, though still somehow comprehensively handsome, makes some atrocious fashion decisions. See photos below for evidence:


You can understand my disappointment and pain, and this is from the perspective of someone who has just barely outgrown shopping in the boy’s department (Read: my fashion standards for anyone, including myself, are not painstakingly high).

Though my relationship with Leonardo DiCaprio has been complicated, once I realized his personal character and the young boy I first fell for on the deck of the Titanic are separate entities, I grew less bitter that things will probably never work out between us. I can look upon his accomplishments with elation and even a feeling of pride. (Did you hear he won an Oscar last year?) (Finally) (You worked so hard, baby, I knew you could do it) (Also, that speech, wooooow)

While many of our first ~tru~loves (almost all people we don’t actually know, right?) have gone down like Rose’s blue diamond to the bottom of the ocean, we would still defend their honor, even if it puts ours at stake. Love is love.