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.
“I knew there wouldn’t be a second date the moment the guy asked this question:
“How do you feel about strip clubs?”
Not for ‘em, I said.
“What about porn?”
Are you kidding?
In the conversation that followed, I rebutted his defenses of both. He, a Christian (nominally, at least), was a consumer of erotic media, convinced that using it can be good. He is the only Christian I’ve met who has defended pornography. But he is not the only Christian who defends other kinds of erotic media.”
That people won’t date you for more than a month because you’re saving sex does not mean virginity is a disadvantage. It means you’re dating the wrong kind of people.
“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.”
I’m not saving myself for marriage.
First, I know no follower of Christ who thinks any of us can save ourselves. Secondly, to say “I’m saving myself” when you mean “I’m saving sex” equates who you are – and therefore your worth – with sex. But your worth is wrapped up in nothing except your existence. It is intrinsic.
So I’m not saving myself.
But I am saving sex.