Why I’m a virgin: the feedback.

A week ago today, what I wrote about saving sex for marriage printed in the Perspective section of my paper, the Tampa Bay Times.

Readers called me unintelligent and unattractive (So that’s why I’m a virgin.).

A web editor had to shut down the comments online before the essay even appeared in print. “Too many personal attacks,” he said.

So I started getting emails and voicemails.

“That was a silly thing to go and write,” one said.

“In the end, you clearly made no point.”

“Who gives a damn why you’ve never been laid?”

“I read your article stating that you like to talk about sex. No offense, but talk about the voice of inexperience. How can you contribute on the very subject you have never participated in?”

“Why do you feel it’s necessary to write an article about your sexuality? That’s my question. I don’t understand it. Certainly you don’t think this will move another 20 year old or 25 year old to follow suit. People do it on impulse. It’s wonderful what you’re doing, (but) I can’t imagine what you hope to accomplish.” (From a voicemail. She didn’t leave a number.)

“Your argument seems to be based on the assumption that your husband and you will talk and work out all issues. Good luck. … The chance of finding a man who 1) knows himself well and 2) will talk out these issues, will be difficult. I wish you well.” (Written by a male, for the record.)

Other readers called me courageous and wise.

“Wish my son was old enough for you (he’s 12).” (Lol!)

“In a time of American and world decay, your story is refreshing, brave, and should give everyone a little more hope.”

“Although I am not a (Christian), I agree that adults (and younger people unfortunately) take sex very lightly. … Arleen, keep writing wonderful articles like this because we need people like you in this world. Badly.” (Insert me, placing my hand over my heart and saying, “Aww!”)

“My name is [insert name here], I just read your article. Good job, well written, well done. … I am a 55 year old mother of three. My oldest daughter is … also a virgin by choice. … We are Jewish, we are as liberal as liberal can be. … I, too, was a virgin when I got married. I can tell you my friends thought I was as crazy as crazy comes. And I sometimes thought I was crazy, too. But for me, it was the right decision. [Insert name here], our daughter, is young and cute and smart and sweet and in a graduate program, all that stuff. She is also waiting. To be blunt, she doesn’t give a shit about what other people think of that. And I commend her and applaud her for that, as I do you.” (From a voicemail.)

“It’s not only moral living, it’s common sense. You may be a 2 percenter, but believe me, the 98 percent have got it wrong.”
And couples who married as virgins, and have been (or were, if one spouse is deceased) married for 1, 3, 32, 33, 45, 52, 60 and 70 years wrote and called, too, to tell me what I wrote is true, and that they are happy.

It’s been a fun week, sincerely.

And when I rolled out of bed this morning, I found more feedback — a few letters to the editor in today’s Perspective section, regarding what I wrote:

Letters-to-the-Editor-7-1-12

If I could edit the second sentence of the third letter, I’d have it say this: “I hope and pray that all the parents, young women and young men who read her article listen to what she is saying …” Perhaps in a future post, I’ll delve deeper into why I’d add “young men,” but today I’ll sum it up this way: We are egregious when we say it is solely up to women to save sex for marriage. When we do, we uphold a double standard, we tell women that women (and not men) are responsible for men’s behavior, we enable men to relinquish responsibility and we permit them to believe they really can’t control themselves, which — frankly, and generally — is a lie.

And that isn’t a criticism of the letter writer (who emailed me, too, by the way, and is super kind). It’s a criticism of the culture in which he lives.

A culture (or at least a Tampa Bay area) with pretty mixed opinions about saving sex for marriage. I’m grateful for all the feedback about what I wrote, good and bad, and for the opportunity to have written it.

Lovers.

Right now, I owe a lot of people a lot of emails (if you’re one of them, I’ll write back soon. Promise!). I’ve been a little inundated, since the “sexsay” appeared online and then in print. I also got to work today to find some voicemails. This one’s worth sharing:

11:25 a.m. Sunday:

“Congratulations! Congratulations, Arleen. My wife of 70 years (and I) were virgins when we married. We have had a beautiful life together, emotionally, sexually. We have 8 children, 62 grandchildren — that’s grand, great and great-great. Our sex is more meaningful today than ever. We have a beautiful relationship. … We are part of each other, as we are parts of the Lord Jesus who kept us. … We thank the Lord for you and for those who believe in the word of God that we are to keep ourselves pure. … God will bless you, and you have no fear of a beautiful life with the husband God has for you.”

It made me cry a little.

I called him back, his wife picked up another phone and the three of us had a fabulous conversation. They’re 90. And they’re kind and they’re funny. And they told me they cut out and and still have a copy of my first chastity essay (which I wrote three years ago), that they love me and that they would pray for me.

Haters may hate, but lovers make my day.

Haters.

The “sexsay” (as my brother from another mother has dubbed it) isn’t in print ’til tomorrow…

but the hate mail has already started. And the comments got so bad this afternoon a web editor decided to shut ’em down.
Only two things I can say, really:

First:

“Lord, help us live so foolishly for you that we draw onlookers and those who would deride us. And while they watch and mock, change all our hearts that we might learn to laugh at the foolishness this world calls normal and run away with the circus that is real life.” (from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals)

And second:



Why I’m a virgin.

“I like to talk about sex.

This is natural for a woman who grew up in a culture that surrounds us with it, who is the product of parents who taught me no topic is taboo. But few who discuss sex with me are prepared for what I divulge:

I’m a virgin.”

Click here to read the rest of this essay I wrote. It’s online now and in print Sunday, June 24, in the Perspective section of the Tampa Bay Times.

Books in 2012: Blue Like Jazz

Five years ago, my friends Seth and Sarah separately suggested, one within weeks of the other, that I read a book called Blue Like Jazz. So after work one night, I walked to my car from the now-closed Carrollwood bureau, drove to the bookstore down the street and bought a copy.

I read it.

I liked it.

I didn’t touch it again until this year.

Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality is by Donald Miller, and it’s also a movie, as of this year. It played at one Tampa theater for a weekend and I missed it. So in lieu of seeing it on the big screen, I pulled my copy off the bookshelf in my closet.

I flipped through it and found it devoid of notes, but dogeared at the bottom on lots of pages, like I do every time I like what a particular page has to say. As of tonight, Blue Like Jazz is the fourteenth book I’ve read in full in 2012. I liked it better the second time. Frankly, it felt like I hadn’t read it before, like it was wholly new to me, which goes to show how much attention I must have paid it in 2007. Most of the pages I dogeared the first time meant nothing to me this time. But lots of things did mean something to me. Here are some:

On souls unwatched:

“It is hard for us to admit we have a sin nature because we live in this system of checks and balances. If we get caught, we will be punished. But that doesn’t make us good people; it only makes us subdued. Just think about the Congress and Senate and even the president. The genius of the American system is not freedom; the genius of the American system is checks and balances. Nobody gets all the power. Everybody is watching everybody else. It is as if the founding fathers knew, intrinsically, that the soul of man, unwatched, is perverse.” -page 18

On self absorption:

“‘I’m talking about self absorption. If you think about it, the human race is pretty self-absorbed. Racism might be the symptom of a greater disease. What I mean is, as a human, I am flawed in that it is difficult for me to consider others before myself. If feels like I have to fight against this force, this current within me that, more often than not, wants to avoid serious issues and please myself, buy things for myself, feed myself, entertain myself, and all of that. All I’m saying is that if we, as a species, could fix our self-absorption, we could end a lot of pain in the world.'” -pages 40-41

I’m with Don:


“Sooner or later you just figure out there are some guys who don’t believe in God and they can prove He doesn’t exist, and some other guys who do believe in God and they can prove He does exist, and the argument stopped being about God a long time ago and now it’s about who is smarter, and I honestly don’t care.” -page 103

On belief:


“But the trouble with deep belief is that it costs something. And there is something inside me, some selfish beast of a subtle thing that doesn’t like the truth at all because carries responsibility, and if I actually believe those things, I have to do something about them. It is so, so cumbersome to believe anything.” -page 107

“…what I believe is not what I say I believe; what I believe is what I do.” -page 110

On boldness:


“I think if you like somebody you have to tell them. It might be embarrassing to say it, but you will never regret stepping up. I know form personal experience, however, that you should not keep telling a girl that you like her after she tells you she isn’t into it. You should not keep riding your bike by her house either.” -page 142

From an excerpt of a play Don wrote; lines a husband says to his wife while she sleeps:


“That though He made you from my rib, it is you who is making me, humbling me, destroying me, and in doing so, revealing Him.” -page 149

“God risked Himself on me. I will risk myself on you. And together, we will learn to love, and perhaps then, and only then, understand this gravity that drew Him, unto us.” -page 150

On death to self:


“Bill set down his coffee and looked me in the eye. ‘Don,’ he said. ‘If we are not willing to wake up in the morning and die to ourselves, perhaps we should ask ourselves whether or not we are really following Jesus.'” -page 185

On understanding:


“Many of our attempts to understand Christian faith have only cheapened it. I can no more understand the totality of God than the pancake I made for breakfast understands the complexity of me.” -page 202

On responsibility:


“I loved the fact that it wasn’t my responsibility to change somebody, that it was God’s, that my part was just to communicate love and approval.” -page 221

– – – – –

Click here to read about all the books I read in 2012.

Click here to read Don Miller’s blog.

Click here to learn more about Blue Like Jazz.