Nowadays it’s almost impossible for me to scroll through my Instagram timeline without being slapped in the face with images of half-naked females, breast, big booties and the random sexually explicit memes. If that’s not the case, everyone is mysteriously drunk in love and the new definition of surfboarding has gone to a whole different level. While some are busy on a sexual tangent I’m just here drinking my tea, listening to some good old Lauryn Hill while waiting patiently for the “one”.
I remember the days when I dreamed of living the life of the Virgin Mary and I swore my body would lay in no man’s hands unless I had a rock on my finger, and when I say waiting for the ring I don’t mean simply just for the ring. I mean after I spend my entire savings account on my Great Gatsby wedding with my overpriced wedding dress and after the “I do’s” are said and we have officially walked down the aisle. But of course that fairy tale went out the window when I found my libido knocking down my temple doors and I decided to lay on my back while I had all my sexual pleasures fulfilled in the hands of a man.
To put it in simpler terms… I started having sex for all the wrong reasons. In my eyes a good sex round equated to a high level of self-esteem. The only time I found confidence in myself was when a man-made it clear that he “wanted” me. In my eyes being wanted was all that I desired, but of course each time I gave a piece of me away I found myself becoming spiritually and emotionally bankrupt. What I was giving away for a few minutes of pleasure simply was not worth the pain, heartache and hurt that came along with it.
I fell hard into the lust trap, what makes it sad is that I depended on sex to tell me what the foundation of my self-worth was.
Now to fast forward, I made an ultimately life changing decision. After ending it with my ex I felt depleted in every possible way, and that is because I gave him all of me, literally. My soul was so thirsty I felt like I was spiritually dying. In the midst of this I decided to about-face from my back-slidden ways and ran as fast as I could into the arms of the Lord. I had to complete a self-examination and seriously took a look at what I was doing to myself. I no longer enjoyed sex to be honest, it started as a self-fulfilling need and spiraled into the only weapon I had that allowed me to avoid loneliness. How could that ever be fun? It wasn’t and it never will be.
My faith of course has a played a major role in this as well. I want to glorify God by abiding by his word, not by simply being a Christian who “flirts with the ideology of how much can I get away with and still be saved”. That simply won’t add abundance to my life, and therefore I desire to worship God with my praises along with my body.
Sex is great, I get it… trust me, I really do. But it’s not so great when you find yourself becoming emotionally depleted every time someone who doesn’t belong in your temple takes a stroll inside. My body is sacred and that’s why two years ago I decided to wait for the “one”. Not for my boyfriend, not for my fiancé but for my husband. I want a man who knows how to make love to me without the need to physically touch me; I want to know that a man understands the practice and the gains of having self-control. To me true intimacy is being caressed by the words of a man’s heart am no longer that girl who is searching for herself through a false orgasm, I no longer care or desire to please anyone with my body. I know who I am and I know I am worth waiting for. I may not know who my husband is, but I believe he is worth waiting for.