We’ve glamourized the one night stand.
How fearless of you to give yourself away so carelessly. How bold. How wild.
& so the virgins in the room, those of whom are fewer than few, feel ashamed. The gift of purity all at once does not seem like much of a gift. The word itself, a knife through the heart.
The singe is soul deep, not something to be comforted by cooey words of ‘self-worth’, ‘no regrets’, or ‘beautiful you’. Extra chocolate can’t soothe the echoing wounds of the teacher who pronouced virgin with the same intonation placed on disgust. The heckling laughter of the girls & boys at the idea that some people go to an event called The Silver Ring Thing, where they pledge to save themselves for their future spouse. Fumbling one clammy hand to cover the other, extending over the bent silver ring lined with 1 Thessalonians 4:3-4 marking my innocence.
Purity doesn’t always feel good. I know, love. You are wounded. The world seeping in through movies where friends have benefits & they end up falling inlove, living happily ever after. Movies where the cool girls play dangerously, tangoing with the bad boys in the club, who take them back to their place with rooms aglow, unfolding their usual evening routines. How beautifully inviting the scene is when the girl who has been uptight all her life wakes up next to a strange man in last nights clothes & goes to work where everyone gives her the nods of approval & the thumbs up. Yeah girl. You did it.
I wanted it. I wished that somedays could not count & I could loosen up & lose myself to shots & a hot man in a bar I don’t know who chose me as his next notch/victim.
Because sometimes virginity seems to intertwine itself with the thread of unwanted. & though we haven’t partaken in this communion of flesh, we want to know we are loved. We want to be fought for. We want to be wanted.
Nobody ever told me that sex wouldn’t make a man stay. That contentment won’t ever result from the toussled morning sheets & yesterdays makeup. Nobody ever told me that the girl who lives so carefree actually wishes she would’ve never followed him home, never responded to the text.
What nobody is telling you is this.
Sweet girl, you are the lucky one.
To be wild is to stand your ground. To say no. To leave something of yourself to the imagination. To know a man can never love you like God loves you. To hear God’s value over your life, & to listen to His love letters covering this world from head to toe.
Freedom is not permitting others opinions form your actions
& virginity has no ties with unwanted.
Do you hear me, love?
God says he’s delighted in you. Enthralled by you from the very beginning, when you were craddled in his hands, sung over in love, & named by grace. You are precious to Him, you are honored in His sight, & He loves you. You are uncommon, exquisite, handcrafted. You are a gem.
This isn’t only for the good girls. This is for you, too, whose legs have wandered & hearts have been damaged. God’s words do not change for you. Amazing grace floods your paths.
God says you are new. He is delighted in you. Enthralled by you from the very beginning, when you were craddled in his hands, sung over in love, & named by grace. You are precious to Him, you are honored in His sight, & He loves you. You are uncommon, exquisite, handcrafted. You are a gem. You are whole.
It’s your turn, love. Break the silence. Spill your guts.