My boyfriend and I were discussing my issues with intimacy from the safety of a Skype video chat when I stumbled upon the realization that one of the biggest reasons I don’t like sex is because I feel it is wrong outside of marriage. Now, before you smack yourself on the forehead with exasperation at my dim-witted eureka-moment let me explain: I don’t enjoy sex. Outside of the build up and brief pleasure of an actual orgasm, I don’t enjoy it. I don’t mind kissing and hugging. But anything beyond that and I get irritable, frustrated and confused. I regret every single sexual encounter I have entered into. Some women in my age group may regret one or two of the escapades they’ve participated in but it takes a pretty big idiot to regret every single one.
Think for a second about what I’m saying, folks. I regret sleeping with any boy I dated. I regret sleeping with anyone I have claimed to love. I regret sleeping with the man I am currently dating and madly in love with. I, literally, can’t have sex with a man I love without feeling remorse over it. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m a slut or a whore. This isn’t because my boyfriend treats me like a slut. This isn’t because my friends judge my less-than-honorable behavior. This isn’t even because my dad is a bit of a pushy chauvinist with very clear ideas of modesty. This is because of my own beliefs.
My belief in the Bible isn’t uneducated. My belief in the Bible isn’t based on my parents’ examples; my mother is a pagan who plays with tarot cards and my father is the hypocritical, Bible-thumping, holy-rolling son of a southern Baptist preacher. I don’t follow my parents’ ideas on living my life properly. I have spent years studying the Bible to be able to identify what I do or don’t believe or practice. So when I tell you that I don’t think sex before marriage is a good idea based on Biblical scripture I’m telling you that because I believe it. See, even if everyone around me started telling me that sex before marriage was O.K., I’d probably still feel like a slut.
There are half a dozen lame excuses for why I began having sex in the first place. I had low self-esteem, Daddy didn’t give me enough attention, I didn’t have any positive female role models, I wanted love, etc. None of these reasons are logical enough to overcome the fact that I knew it was wrong from the start. And none of it changes the predicament I am now in.
It seems like a pretty easy fix, right? If sex before marriage makes you feel like a slut then you stop having sex until you’re married! Problem solved. Well, what do I do when the man I want to marry won’t respect my desire to wait? What happens when any man I would deem worthy of me isn’t willing to wait until our wedding night? What happens when the only men willing to hold off are men who I am completely uninterested in being with? I go it alone? I’m forced to be single because I can neither give up my beliefs nor tolerate any man who shares them? Talk about a conundrum.
My name is Chelsey Mick, and this is how we are slutty and confused.