I’ve told bits and pieces of my own story regarding sexual intimacy here and there throughout this blog, and more of it is entailed in the My Story page.
But today I’m focusing a bit more on what I went through and how it affected my initial years of my marriage. Here’s my story: Inside My Head.
17 Years Old
I haven’t had sex. Totally haven’t had sex. Fine, call me a “technical virgin.” But that word virgin is still in there, right? (Right?)
I don’t mean to go over the line with guys. I just end up there somehow. I tell myself I’ll keep anything beyond kissing from happening, and then he’s there and I’m there and we’re kissing and it’s hot and heavy and things just, well, happen. And once they’re already happening, it’s too late. Might as well enjoy it.
Besides, who decides what’s too far anyway? Whenever we ask that question of an adult in church or some youth event, we get one of two answers — “Just don’t have sex” (which is what I’m doing) or “Don’t ever be alone with a boy.” Seriously? Who are these people? It’s like they’ve forgotten what it was to be a teenager.
And I don’t even think they like kissing and foreplay and sex. That one wife in our “becoming a woman” Bible class pinches up her face every time one of us girls mentions it. Do they know what it’s like to have your heart thumping and your head floating and your lips entangled with a guy you really, really want to be with? Do they know how hard it is to say no when all that’s going on inside you?
Still, I’ll keep from doing the big thing. I’ll be a virgin until I marry. I will. Promise.
22 Years Old
When it comes to counting my lovers, it’s not a big number, at least not in the secular world. But it’s a big deal to me. And as much as I’ve tried to rationalize my decisions, I suspect it’s a big deal to God.
I apologize and try to repent each time, but I simply keep failing. I completely understand Paul’s statement that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” So very, very weak.
Although honestly, why did God make it feel so physically good? And why must I wait until I someday get married? I could have waited if I’d lived in biblical times, because they say Mary was probably a teenager, maybe even 15 or 16, when she got married. I was pure as new white porcelain when I was 16.
Now? Not so much.
Though here’s the real question: What wonderful Christian man wants this package of damaged goods?
Then again, what besides my sexuality do I have to offer? I’m not particularly beautiful or poised or rich or whatever. I’m smart, but how far does smart go? When it comes to who you want to kiss at night, are you thinking, Hey, this girl reads Tolstoy. I so want her!?
Still, there’s got to be a better way.
26 years old
“Sadie, Sadie, married lady, that’s me!” I can’t believe I’ve picked the guy, said the I Do‘s, and moved in with my lifetime love. Me? The girl whose monogamy track record is less than stellar. I had too much of a “love the one you’re with” approach.
But now I have this heart-sure feeling this is The One (cue serious music). I love him, more and deeper than any other. I can envision our lives together, lasting many years into the future. “Till Death Do Us Part.”
For the time being, however, it’s nice living in the present. The present that includes making love almost every day. Our sexual intimacy is amazing.
Although sometimes I’m nervous around him. Cautious about showing too much or seeming too experienced or eager. That uninhibited part of me comes from my days of premarital promiscuity, the days I’d now like to forever forget. (Why can’t I just forget?) After all, I’m Sadie, Sadie, married lady, so I really should be more feminine, more reserved, more coquettish. If I act like I did before, doesn’t that just make me a slut? All over again?
I have to keep that part of me inside. Bury it. Ignore it. Hope it goes away. I’m legit now. I’m not that same person I was before. Right?
God has forgiven me. Hasn’t He?
♦ ♦ ♦
So I just let you inside my head to hear what was going on regarding my sexual intimacy through the years. But the story doesn’t finish there. Not by a long shot! It took a while, but God righted my heart and my life regarding sexual intimacy.
I learned the difference between trying to do the right thing in my own might and surrendering to God. I learned God had indeed forgiven me and I needed to accept His grace, the grace He sacrificed His own son to give. I learned God was not punishing me for past sins when I experienced difficulties regarding sexual intimacy in marriage, that ongoing challenges were par for the course and opportunities to deepen my trust in His perfect plan.
I learned my husband never saw me in terms of my wayward past, that I was his cherished wife and lover. I learned that trying some different things and letting go of inhibitions could positively affect our marriage bed. I learned to feel good about my body and the beauty I possess.
I learned my past hardship and heartache shouldn’t be ignored or buried or wished away, but could be part of my personal testimony — from which to help others who struggle with sexual intimacy.
I learned that even regarding sex, God knows what He’s talking about. His design is good.
The words “THE END” haven’t been written on my story. There’s more to come. Yet I have absolute faith my story will end with the phrase: “And, with God’s help, she lived happily ever after.”
Now what’s your story? What lessons have you learned along the way?