Why Every Sapphic Teen Should Watch First Girl I Loved (2016)

I still remember the first time I pressed play on First Girl I Loved (2016) late at night, headphones on, heart already racing because the title alone felt like it was written for me. As a lesbian who came out way later than I wanted to, this little indie film directed by Kerem Sanga wrecked me in the best way possible. It wasn’t glossy, it wasn’t made by a huge studio, and thank god for that; because sometimes the messiest, most honest lesbian stories come from the smallest budgets.

Let me take you back to 2016 for a second. We had Moonlight winning Oscars (iconic), Carol giving us the slow-burn of our dreams, and then… this tiny movie about two high school girls in Los Angeles that barely anyone talked about. First Girl I Loved flew so under the radar it’s criminal, but for every queer woman who found it, it became a lifeline.

The story is simple on paper: Anne (played by Dylan Gelula, aka the cool weirdo we all secretly were) is a senior who’s always felt a little different. She’s on the yearbook staff, rides her bike everywhere, and one day she meets Sasha (Brianna Hildebrand – yes, Negasonic Teenage Warhead herself), the effortlessly hot softball star. Sparks? Immediate. The first time Anne watches Sasha play softball and basically forgets how to breathe? Yeah, every lesbian watching felt that in our bones.

What makes this movie different from every other “girl realizes she likes girls” trope is how painfully real it feels. There’s no magical “and then everyone accepted her” moment. There’s jealousy, confusion, biphobia from within the LGBTQ+ community (yes, that happens), and the gut-wrenching reality that sometimes the first girl you love doesn’t love you back the same way – or can’t admit she does.

Dylan Gelula’s Anne is awkward, funny, and so deeply in love it hurts to watch. The way she stares at Sasha when she’s not looking, the way she rehearses confessions in her mirror, the way she writes “I love you” a hundred times in her notes app and then immediately deletes it – baby, that was me at 17. That was probably you too.

And Brianna Hildebrand as Sasha? She plays the “softball lesbian” stereotype in the best way possible – confident on the outside, terrified on the inside. The scene where they finally kiss in the car? The tension had been building for 60 minutes straight and when it finally happens, it’s messy and perfect and over way too fast – exactly like most first queer kisses are.

But here’s where the movie guts you: Sasha has a boyfriend. And not a jerk boyfriend either – just a normal, nice guy. That makes it worse, honestly. Because it forces you to ask the question every baby gay has asked herself: “Is it easier to stay with him and be safe, or risk everything for this girl who makes me feel alive for the first time?”

The fallout is brutal. There’s a scene toward the end (no spoilers, calm down) where someone outs Anne in the worst way possible, and the betrayal feels so real I had to pause the movie and stare at my ceiling for ten minutes. We’ve all been outed before we were ready. We’ve all had that one friend who thought they were “helping” by telling everyone. This movie doesn’t shy away from how much that hurts.

One of the most underrated parts? The friendship between Anne and Clifton (Mateo Arias). He’s in love with her the whole time, and yeah, it’s complicated, but the movie never makes him the villain. He’s just a boy who loves a lesbian who can’t love him back the same way. Their scenes together are some of the most tender in the whole film.

People always ask me: “Why do you keep recommending this movie when it’s so sad?” Because sometimes lesbian stories are allowed to be sad. We don’t always need a perfect happy ending wrapped in a rainbow bow. Sometimes we need to see a girl get her heart broken exactly like we did, and then watch her pick herself up anyway.

Nine years later, in 2025, we have more lesbian representation than ever – thank you Bottoms, Crush, Happiest Season (kinda), and everything in between. But First Girl I Loved still feels special because it never tried to be anything it wasn’t. It’s not trying to teach straight people a lesson. It’s not trying to be palatable. It’s just two girls falling in love in a world that isn’t always kind to girls who love girls.

If you’re a lesbian who came out late, or you’re still questioning, or you just want to feel seen for 84 minutes – watch this movie. Cry in the dark like I did. Text your situationship “this made me think of you” and then immediately regret it (we’ve all been there).

First Girl I Loved isn’t the flashiest queer film of the 2010s, but for a lot of us? It was the most honest.

And honestly? That’s more than enough.