Sometimes, what you don’t have the courage to say haunts you. My vocal cowardice creeks and wakes me. I’ve woken to a nagging, uninvited guest, but I knew the outline of its misshapen face. My passive silence etched its ugly features, which, although air, somehow revealed the solid form of my own weakness.
Perhaps, my pen will be penance for my tongue’s failure and expel my inwardly illuminating ghost. I pray this post prevents a resurrected regret for you.
Behavior doesn’t change an individual’s innate value, but behavior does align or conflict with a person’s value. Behavior that conflicts with someone’s value creates unnecessary chaos and/or suffering. Several years ago, as my friend, “Jane”, shared a plan, which did not value her most, I didn’t speak up to identify the unnecessary chaos and suffering.
Jane and I walked to the parking garage underneath a lean condo building. As we returned to our cars, Jane buoyantly shared she planned to be the most intimate with her boyfriend. They’d been dating, I estimate, less than three months.
As her friend, it was the consummate moment (pun intended) to discuss the indiscriminate consequences of her scheduled escapade. What did I do with this tectonically timed opportunity to discuss behavior incongruent with her value? I did my friend a life-shifting disservice and chose the easy way — without conflict and without confrontation. Although the earth may have moved, it was a damaging event.
As soon as she opened the topic, Quarter Quell-like gongs from The Hunger Games blared warnings in my mind. I subconsciously submitted “sophisticated” reasons for my silence: she’s cultured and has thoughtfully considered the angles to her life-sucking plan; it’s gauche to impose “judgmental” views, and it’s tasteless to offer an unsolicited, different idea to someone who may not like it (and, more honestly, may then not like me).
Mixed with my refined, empty excuses was uncultivated contempt for a devaluing idea. I was afraid my contempt toward the idea would be interpreted as judgment toward a person. I was more concerned with my appearance than offering the most value-matching and fulfilling option for consideration.
Prioritizing someone’s approval more than her value is selfish. Rejection may turn sweet, if you’ve spared a friend chaos or suffering. I hid the better idea, and with it, I buried an ideological gift I didn’t deserve.
When I was at the age where decisions started to have lifelong aftershocks, my close friend selflessly shared her regret of the ultimate physical, premarital intimacy: even if you marry a man you love, sharing all of your body with him before he shares his full commitment with you created a question in her marriage. Did she marry him, because she was irreversibly connected to him, or because he was the right person for her?
Every (yes, every) non-married, intimate story a female friend has told me, at least, was not enchanting – there wasn’t full trust, relational vulnerability or intimate freedom, even though full physical access was given. The stories I’ve heard are replete with insecurity and disappointment. Being the closest should be emotionally (and, of course, physically) otherworldly, overflowing with trust, freedom and happiness.
Waiting until marriage values each person the most and creates the best circumstances for physical intimacy to be the most rewarding. Otherwise, it’s a knock-off: a moment of ultimate physical intimacy without full trust or commitment. It sends your body packing after a ride that takes a part of your spirit forever.
It’s easy to articulate these things now. Then, I responded with something like, “I’m making a different choice; I’m waiting.” I didn’t elaborate with objective explanations for the best alternative. I didn’t remind her of her matchless value, which demands value-aligning behavior for the most fulfilling experience.
After they got to know each other very well, they broke up.
For every Jane planning a pre-marital excursion, will you consider a different idea, which values you and your man more, where trust, vulnerability, and intimate freedom flourish?
If I could magically redo that moment, I’d ask Jane: “What’s the goal of your plan?” A story? An experience? More practice? For him to be hooked? To be closer to him? Because, if you wait for marriage, you’re choosing to build a better story, create a better experience, have more practice with the right person, influence a better man who proved self-control and restraint, be with a man who respects you more, and to tie a stronger relational bond. Waiting until marriage is the way to build the best possible sexual experiences, not just for a moment, but for a lifetime.
To address excuses: first, you’re not testing compatibility. You know if you’re sexually compatible long before sex. Great sex takes practice … with the same person, not different people. How can a man learn a particular woman’s nerve endings well, if she’s just another exhilarating experience?
And, you can do it. Do you go to the gym at 6 am? Work harder than your friends? Diet for weeks? Save money for retirement? Deprive yourself of something tempting now for something worth more later? You and your relational future are worth more.
My closing argument would be: don’t be one of his numbers. Don’t try to play men’s losing game. Using someone for your conquest makes you pro-user and pro-used, not an admired conqueror.
For the Janes out there who already chose ultimate physical intimacy before marriage, that’s no excuse not to choose differently now. Your value didn’t change. Jesus loves you (more than you can understand) and wants you to return to his incomparably loving and life-giving ways, even if, like me, your regrets haunt you. You’re too valuable not to choose the most value-aligning way.
Instead of losing sleep to a resurrected regret, let the resurrected Savior give you peace and life to the full. With Jesus’ perfect love and ways, you’ll rest and wake soundly, now and forevermore.