Ten years ago, I crossed a modest stage in a well-lit gymnatorium at a private, Protestant school. I was one of 14 high school seniors who wore royal blue caps and gowns and breathed happy sighs of relief upon being given what meant more to us than diplomas:
Freedom.
For me, freedom meant transition. It meant I turned from a Catholic kid in a Protestant class of 14 to a Catholic kid on a secular campus of 40,000 — from a young woman who knew everyone to a young woman who, most days, knew no one.
I wasn’t ok with that. So I did what I sometimes still can’t believe:
I got uncomfortable.
And I did it on purpose. Continue reading “Why chaste people should get uncomfortable.”