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About WanderingWashingtonian

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    Incredibly Advanced Member
  • Birthday 06/25/1988

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    Washington, amazingly enough!
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    In no particular order: reading , hiking, chocolate, bowling, photography, painting, dancing, sleeping, travel, movies, music, nature, faith, God, volunteering, teaching, writing, minesweeper, Wikipedia, NaNoWriMo, deviantART, fireworks, Disneyland, true love, happily ever after, peanut butter, ice cream, home, and seashells


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About Me

This is the original profile entry from August 2012, with a more recent update included below:


I've planned on waiting until marriage for sex ever since I knew what sex was, which was at the early age of six. When I got "the talk", I got the "you should only have sex when you are married" version, which I just accepted as a point of fact. Don't smoke, don't drink, don't have sex before marriage, don't touch a hot burner... when you're a kid, you learn early on that your parents have a few things figured out.

A few years later, after an aquaintance's teenage daughter got pregnant, I got a slightly updated talk which went something like, "We don't want you to have sex before marriage, and we'll be disappointed if you do, but we are your parents, and we will love you no matter what, even if you do have sex. But please, don't have sex!"

Sometime early in my own teenage years, I went through that stage - do we ever really leave it? - of being completely fascinated with the notion of sex. It wasn't so much a matter of desire - those hormones hadn't kicked it yet - but rather just intense curiousity about the subject. In middle school, sex seems to be all anyone can talk about, and rumors abound regarding who's having sex with whom.

Now, I had always been one to follow the rules - I still am, as a matter of fact, which for some reason, seems to get me into trouble - so I remembered well that sex before marriage was a big no-no. My parents said so, God said so, yet it seemed my own peer group wasn't on the same page. I did some research on the all-powerful Internet, and came across the group True Love Waits.

Here, suddenly, was the new idea that I should wait until marriage for sex not so much because sex was wrong, but rather because waiting was a special way of showing my love to my future husband. Ever and always a hopeful romantic, I was hooked. I had been planning on waiting anyway, but it is so much nicer to be doing it for my own reasons, rather than simply avoiding sex because that's what I've been told to do. Plus, I learned more during this time about how my parents had both waited until marriage for sex thoughout five years of dating; I found that really inspiring. Thus, when I was fourteen, I wrote down my pledge to save myself for my husband and kept it in my diary.

The pledge was certainly easy enough to keep during my high school years; I never had a date, a boyfriend, or even anything close. Except for the seniors who would flirt with any freshman girl walking by - can "Hey, nice butt!" really be counted as flirting? - there just really weren't any offers. If I had held lower standards for myself, I imagine the guys would have been a bit more eager, but having a reputation of being a goody-two-shoes and a teacher's pet is the kiss of death for high school romance.

When I got to college though, I quickly met a sweet guy who, the more I talked to, the more I thought, "this is the kind of guy I want to marry." I didn't really see it as any kind of possibility at first - he hadn't asked me out - but the more I learned of his character and values, the more hopeful I became, and one day, several months into our friendship, that miraculous event occurred: he called me up and asked me on my first date. Everything between us felt so right and easy, far more comfortable than I could have ever imagined.

He was a good and proper gentleman, and took a few months to ask for a kiss - my first, and his as well. It was several months more before he first said "I love you." While I felt impatient waiting for these declarations of affection, I also knew and appreciated that he was waiting until he was ready, until his feelings were sincere.

Over the next two years, I discovered that I like kissing. Or rather, I love kissing! And those hormones that weren't an issue earlier? Well, they had finally shown up, and they were making up for lost time. My head still remembered what I had pledged, but my heart said, "I love him!" and my body said, "I want him!" Fortunately, God had placed me with a boyfriend who was also waiting for marriage, and who had more willpower - or rather "won't-power" - than people give guys credit for; more willpower than I daresay even I have. Therefore, whenever I would get a little too enthusiastic in my kissing, he would slow me down, and I would remember myself again. I am not sure how well I would have stood up to temptation had I been with a boy who didn't have his values; I'd like to think I would have stayed true to my plan and waited, but it is scary to see what hormones can do to you. I am grateful that he never let me go too far; unlike so many guys, who would have taken advantage of my weakness, he stood strong, and, in so doing, protected me from myself.

I loved him dearly. Talking to him was like talking to no one else, and even our silences were golden. He understood my sense of humor and shared it, and we had hundreds of inside jokes. When he hugged me and held me, I felt like we were designed for each other; it was such a perfect fit. He was so good and kind, funny and smart, diligent and dedicated, and he had this way of looking at me like I was his favorite person in the world. Several people, some who knew me well, and others who didn't, remarked that I would glow when he was around. My parents loved him, and I was lovingly embraced into his family.

Though I regularly surrendered the relationship to God's will, I desperately hoped to marry him, and he often discussed our futures as husband and wife as if they were a certainty. But toward the end of our second year together, he began to be more distant. I attributed this to the pressures he was under: graduation from college, his new job, etc. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. Then one day, two weeks before my birthday, he took on a picnic at one of our favorite parks by the river on a bright, sunny day in June... and dumped me. Stuff about how I was so sweet, and he was too grumpy, and how I deserved someone better, etc. I was devastated. I tried to discuss it, to figure where things had gone wrong, but his mind was made up.

We hugged and cried - at one point, he had told me that he hadn't cried since middle school, so I remember thinking that him crying for the first time in a decade was kind of a big deal - and he apologized, and then he walked away. It was only by the grace of God that I managed to drive the half hour home safely. As soon as my parents saw me, they knew, and within a few days, my father sent me and my best friend on a road trip to California to stay with relatives for a week, knowing that I wanted desperately to run away for awhile. We spent several days in Disneyland, which is probably some of the best medicine out there for a broken heart; the pain came on the trip with me, but there are moments at amusement parks when you can't help but smile and laugh, even if you are shattered. Even though my heart was throbbing painfully, and not an hour went by in which I didn't think of him, I learned that I was still capable of having fun, and I decided to do my best not to build walls around myself and grow bitter.

A trip to Disneyland, no matter how magical, could not fix my sorrow. I learned to lean on God more than I ever had before in the weeks and months to come, and was blessed with a stronger faith than I had ever had before. A faith in God that is; my faith in men and in love was phenomenally damaged. Even three years later, I find the concept of dating to be completely intimidating.

I have never been able to truly stop loving or missing my ex-boyfriend, and I find myself scared: What if he was the one for me? What if I never find someone I'm that compatible with again? I know that God has a plan for me, but that plan might very well be for me to be alone my whole life.

Even if I do meet someone new, I now have major trust issues. How can I believe it when he says he loves me? The last guy said he loved me too, and he left me. Was he lying, or did he honestly believed he loved me? I don't know how many times I can give away my heart, only to keep getting it back broken. And I don't want to punish the next guy because the last guy hurt me; that wouldn't be fair. So now, even though I want a relationship, I am scared of the prospect.

I plan to keep praying about it, and I am choosing to trust and believe that God will bring me the right person in the right time, even if the waiting makes me impatient. So now I am waiting in multiple respects: waiting for sex, but also waiting for someone I can love.

I am very grateful for this website. Not only is it a blessing to see my choice be celebrated and defended, but it is so reassuring to see that there actually are still people out there, especially men, who are also waiting. Thank you, men! You have done wonderful measures to restore my faith. I had all but given up on the possibility of ever finding a husband who had waited for me, and while I plan to do my best to love whoever God has for me and to forgive his past as God has forgiven mine, it is nice to know that there is still hope. To the men on this website, although I am not your future wife - to the best of my knowledge that is - I thank you on her behalf. This love that you are showing to your bride, a woman you don't even know, is truly appreciated, and I pray for your future happiness. And to the women on this website, thank you for being my sisters, out there in the world, fighting the good fight. It is nice to know I'm not alone.



Update, as of April 2014:


Since writing the section above, I have since started to slowly enter the world of dating again. This has been done with much caution, as I am afraid of being hurt, and even more frightened of hurting someone else. Fortunately, I have been blessed by the fact that I have so far only been seriously approached by good, kind men who, wonder of wonders, all have likewise been waiting until marriage. I have been pleasantly surprised to discover that my first boyfriend was apparently not the only man I could feel compatible with, or even love. Only time will tell how this all plays out, but I am feeling much more hopeful than I did a couple of years ago, and I am trying to trust again. I will let you know more when I know more, but at the moment, I am feeling rather blessed.