Growing up I was always told never to have sex before marriage. My parents had “The Talk” with me. They told me to remain abstinent, but never told me the meaning of why. When I was twelve all the other kids at school had boyfriends or girlfriends and were making out. Some were even having sex. I on the other hand I had never even experienced a kiss. Well wanting to fit in I got myself a boyfriend and started doing “The In” thing. My parents again told me don’t have sex before I’m married, but if I do wear protection. With that statement I felt it must not be that important to wait.
When I was fourteen, being a teenager, I gave into the peer pressure that surrounded me. I decided to have sex. I followed all the precautions that my parents had told me about. I wore the protection needed so I wouldn’t get pregnant or catch something ungodly. The one thing they didn’t prepare me for is the rollercoaster of emotions that I would feel after experiencing the unknown. They never told me that a piece of soul would be lost and never found.
Through the years I would date someone for a little while and then we would find ourselves sleeping together. Each time I felt like something was missing, that I was losing myself to an unknown familiarity. I was falling deeper into this momentary ecstasy not realizing the hurt to come.
Eventually I found myself pregnant and alone. I felt like all of me was lost and my life had no real accomplishments. I was in love with someone who had been in love with sex. I gave a piece of my heart to someone who only valued the one thing I learned to despise. I ignored a feeling that I should have been warned about as a child.
As life went on I continued in my premarital ignorance, and eventually got married. That very night of the wedding I didn’t want to indulge in the ecstasy that every newlywed anticipates anxiously. I was robbed, because of my own ignorance, from the very thing that should seal the marriage, and unite a couple into eternity.
Without the unity in marriage, the relationship becomes a selfish indulgence instead of a giving partnership. After 5 years and two beautiful little girls my marriage came to an end. My ignorance and longing for the missing piece died with the marriage. I decided to forgive myself for the unknowing pain I filled my life with and make it right. I made the choice to wait until I’m married again, not just because I don’t want to get pregnant or contract anything, but because I want to experience the unity, bliss, and love that comes from waiting.
When my girls are old enough I am not only going to have “The Talk”, but I am going to share with them the importance of waiting. The importance of saving yourself for someone who you can trust to hold that part of you that can only be lost through ignorance.
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