Christian women aren’t supposed to talk about stuff like this. But I figured, hell. I’m probably never going to hold a guy’s hand anyway. Why not get all this energy out through writing?
I want to be loved and wanted by a man so badly it hurts. I cry thinking about it. A raw aching sits in my chest all day when the issue comes up. Then I fall apart into myself and fantasize over what it’d be like to feel desired and cherished and what it’d be like to explore intimacy.
I struggle with masturbation. I became addicted when I was a very young child. My mom never stopped me or scolded me for it. Now I really wish she would have. At 26 I have found myself entangled in its ways once again but this time a even more addictive ingredient has been added to the mix; intimacy. As a single woman with social anxiety, the word almost makes my head spin. In spite of all my social ineptness and loneliness, intimacy is something I desperately long for.
In my faith, masturbation and all forms of sexual exploration are off limits until one’s wedding night. If you’re unlucky and in your mid 20s and suffering from a high libido, this can be hell. There’s no escape from it. You’re told to pray the desire away and hope the nagging feeling evaporates. I’m not so strong. I almost always give in, and then beat myself up and agonize over it for days afterward. Looking for clues of God’s displeasure with me while feeling angry over the fact my 23 year old married coworker gets to get down on it every night without shame. I’m reminded of the fact when my boss talks on and on about her pregnancy and asks when it is my turn. I just laugh and remind myself of my singleness. It doesn’t feel fair. I can’t help but feel hurt.
I know God’s rules are to protect us. Pre-marital sex is a sin for good reason. Sex outside of marriage/casual sex/one night stands almost always end in pain or accidental pregnancy. Not to mention STDs and the risk of HIV. And besides, I don’t even want casual sex. I want an exhilarating, bonding experience with the person I can share the most vulnerable parts of my heart with. That’s the kind of love I am aching for. That’s what I cry for when I am all alone in my apartment with just the shadows on the wall. Is it really too much to ask for?
In this world, the answer is a resounding yes. As a Christian woman, I am supposed to not have any sort of sex drive or desire until a man puts a ring on my finger. But that man had better be a Christian. As I am turning 27 in a month and a half, that chance gets lower and lower with each heartbeat. Most guys my age have already given themselves away, and the Christian guys are mostly already married and getting it on as I freaking type this post. I’m screwed. No pun intended. Or maybe it was.
