Despite Purity Culture, I’m Saying “I Do”

 

I dreaded my wedding day when I imagined it as a child. I dreaded the prospects of marriage but dreaded the lack of prospects as well. When I grew up, lots of girls got married. I chose that word—girls—for a reason. Most girls I witnessed get married were, in fact, that. Some were very young. I knew two who married underage. Outside of that, I recall the lack of understanding, experience, and information provided to the young women who made them anything but prepared for marriage.

It was all about the marriage bed. About that first night where you were to lose your virginity and keep giving your body sexually to your Christian husband from there on. Then, there was how to “keep home” and raise children. As a victim of abuse, I knew more of what to expect or at least that’s what they liked to tell me. The fact that they would say to a survivor of child sexual molestation that I knew more about sex is very telling to me... sexual abuse and sex are not the same thing, but I guess in that place, it was. Like I said, I hated the prospects of marriage.

But missing out on a husband in that environment was also very scary. I somehow managed to dodge marriage while in the IFB up till 21. I left without any experience in courting. I had very few options but a few interests, too. There was, let’s call him “Mike”. Mike was not on my radar until my family pointed him out. He missed the mark for me for awhile because he was a pastor’s son, and by being so, he was expected to also follow in his father’s footsteps, and I hated the idea of being a pastor’s wife. I only wanted to play piano! Nothing more… well, only play for me; not for a congregation or anything. The idea of courting, let alone marrying Mike was overwhelming. Plus, I still had a crush on my childhood best friend at the time. When I started to be interested, and frankly flattered, that Mike saw little ole me (sarcasm, obviously but I was still very little, too), I entertained the idea. But unfortunately, Mike was a big deal in my small circles. Eventually, I got word that Mike no longer was interested in possibly courting me. I was told that once he found out that I had been a victim of childhood sexual abuse and went through the court process, putting my abuser away, I wasn’t fit to be a pastor’s wife. It stung that he’d no longer be interested because of something beyond my control. But it pissed me off enough to ignore him from there on. I imagined often sticking my tongue out at him, making a hideous face and putting my nose up in the air if he walked by, which should speak of my maturity at the time. In reality, I forgot about him awfully quick. His granddaddy was a fierce racist and misogynist. And even then, I realized I dodged a bullet!

I had a few crushes here and there. I had this vision of romance in the IFB light. It was a bit skewered and odd to say the least. But it was normal for what had been normalized for me. I decided that I wanted to start courting at 17 and be married at 19. I even got gifted a wedding dress at 17 for the eventual occasion! But it never happened. I wrote about “The Dress” a few years ago, actually.

What came next was a very confusing time with me having this crush on my childhood friend and not understanding boundaries, having my boundaries crossed and also crossing his emotional boundaries without realizing it. It was an incredibly unhealthy relationship when I look back on it as an almost 30 year old woman. It also taught me tough lessons. I also learned that it was possible to break ties with someone, even someone you loved and move on. It broke me into pieces but I recovered.

Purity culture still followed me into my late 20s when I finally did start my secular life of dating. I lost my virginity in a safe way with my first committed boyfriend. In hindsight, I realize things I would have done differently (and in fact, did do differently after learning life lessons, which is what we’re supposed to do, right?). I would have slowed things down. I would have gotten counseling for trauma first (but I’m proud of myself for starting it while in that relationship). I would have noticed red flags much more easily. I would have practiced saying “no” more often and being assertive, knowing my wants, needs and desires both as a woman and as a human. But even as my therapist likes to say to me when I get stuck in that cycle of “what ifs” and “I wish I could do that over” … it was the relationship I needed at the time it occurred. I had a lot of needs that were real, met. I had a lot of questions answered. I learned a hell of a lot and found more of who I was because of it.

Purity culture really twisted me up though. It fucked with my head, ya’ll. It damaged me in so many ways, and combined with sexual abuse, it made things far much harder to sift through when it came time to navigate romantic relationships in and outside of the bedroom. I’m still healing from it after so many years.

Purity culture demanded what was not humanly possible. It demanded sexual and physical abstinence not only with someone you loved but abstinence from understanding who you are as a human. It caused me to view marriage as an entrapment, a virus, a headache, a big shitshow. Prior, it romanticized abuse and made young girls think that was normal. (I keep thinking of the young girls I watch get married….) Whatever marriage was, I wanted nothing to do with it. Not a thing. Zero. Zilch.

Then, I started seeing what marriage COULD look like. With exposure and learning that not all marriages are like the IFB’s version or purity culture’s version for that matter, I leaned into the possibility that things could be different. Healthy. Mutual. Loving.

With that exposure and time, I realized that maybe one day I would even like to get married!

I went into dating differently. While it’s perfectly okay to go into dating looking for your mate, I went in looking for connection, not marriage. I knew I wanted it but I wasn’t looking for marriage on a dating app. I enjoyed dating. I enjoyed the journey of getting to know a person and I treasure what I’ve found because of it.

Relationships don’t heal us fully. We don’t look for them to heal us, after all. But there should be healing in a relationship. There should be safety that offers a victim of purity culture the ability to discover who they are. It should offer not only safety, but patience. And while it might not be able to offer a personal understanding from the other partner, it should offer the commitment to understand. To see who you are down to the depths of your soul, to rally around you as you search and learn, and to be that consistency that reminds you growth is okay, too. Change is healthy and normal.

I found all of those things (and more) and so I’m marrying that. Sure, I am marrying a genuine person. But I’m also marrying safety, patience, understanding, commitment, a cheerleader, a viewer of my soul, and that consistency while we both grow.

In spite of what purity culture tried to convince me, healthy love and marriages are possible. I jump into this one a little scared but always safe.