Tuesday, August 30, 2011


At least that’s what I’ve been told by the people who surround me while shoving it in my face that I’m not having it.


Yes, I am indeed one of those bizarre creatures from another planet that decided, while possessed by a demon [well, that’s what the majority of my peers seem to think], to wait until marriage.

Before I continue, let’s get the ridiculous questions I get asked by people all of the time answered first, shall we?

Yes, I struggle with this every day.
No, I’m not miserable or depressed.
Yes, I’m often left feeling out of the loop.
No, I’m not a-sexual.
Yes, I have a very healthy sex drive.
No, I’m not going to have sex with you.
Yes, I consider that to be sex.
No, you can’t convince me to change my mind.

Now that that’s out of the way! Time for a bedtime story, brought to you by ChastityRocks, collect cool rocks for your rock garden that are pure!

 […Wait, what?]

Once upon a time, when the school bell had rung, a little girl found herself forced to wait in the adoration chapel of the Catholic elementary school that she attended until her mother picked her up. Disgruntled and angry at the evil mother for being late, she grumpily stomped into the chapel, messily genuflected and went to the side room to see if there were any semi-interesting religious books to read. There, on the fourth shelf, was a brightly colored, but rather worn, thick book. She pulled it out a little, to decipher the title and found that it was a young adults book on the saints. ‘I guess this will do,’ she thought to herself as she moped to a seat in front of the tabernacle. ‘Okay God, if I have to be here…at least give me someone interesting to read about, ‘ she prayed, as she shut her eyes and let the book fall open.

St. Maria Goretti

‘Who the heck is that?!’ she, so elegantly, thought to herself.

Beginning to read, she was in awe of this beautiful saint’s story that unraveled before her very eyes.

” St. Maria Goretti, daughter of an Italian farmer, was the third of six children. By the time she was six years old her family became so poor that they were forced to work for other farms to make money and began to live with another family [which consisted of a man and his son, Alessandro Serenelli]. Maria’s father died of malaria when she was nine and soon it was just her mother and siblings working to make end’s meat. Often days, while her family worked in the field, she volunteered to stay behind to look after the children and tend to the housework and cooking. Though the family struggled, their mutual devotion to God and faith allowed them to remain hopeful for the future. Maria, specifically, had a deep love for the Lord and the Eucharist and found joy in the gift of purity He had given to her.

On July 5th, 1902 Maria was alone in the house as her sister slept. Alessandro, nineteen years old, made sexual advances upon the eleven year old, who begged him not to abuse her. She told him that it was a sin and that God would not like it, but he continued to make advances. He tried choking her in attempts to manipulate her into giving in, but when she persisted to say no, claiming she would rather die than be impure, he stabbed her fourteen times.

By the time her family found her, it was too late. She had already bled too much. While dying in the hospital, she forgave Alessandro Serenelli, and prayed that he too would ask forgiveness so that they might both be in heaven together one day. Twenty-four hours later, she died.

Alessandro Serenelli was spared the death sentence because he was a minor, and spent the first three years of his thirty-year sentence refusing to speak to anyone. Then, one day, he appeared to have a change of heart. Apparently, Maria appeared to him in a dream and had given him lilies. Once his sentence had been fulfilled, he immediately went to Maria’s mother and begged forgiveness. Maria’s mother knew that she had to forgive him, just as Maria had forgiven him on her deathbed. The next day they attended mass together, and Alessandro received reconciliation.

It is said that he prayed to Maria every day and even called her his ‘little saint’.

Alessandro Serenelli became a lay brother and died peacefully in a monastery in 1970.“

The little girl, only eight years old at the time, closed the book on the saints and stared at the tabernacle. ‘Wow,’ she thought.  Moved by the Holy Spirit, she knelt down and began to pray fervently, begging God for forgiveness for complaining about having to stay a little extra time after school. And then, as if divinely inspired she looked at the tabernacle and prayed, ‘I want to be like her, Lord. I want to value my purity that deeply. I promise to save myself, Jesus. I promise to wait until I marry the man that you have ordained to be my husband. I love you. Thank you for this gift of purity.’ And she sealed the deal, by blowing Him a kiss.

And the little girl grew up, joy-filled, at the cross that she had accepted from her Creator. 

And then got asked a lot of stupid questions.

So, that’s my story kids. That’s why I am the way I am today. I don’t know why her story hit me so very deeply at that age [when I barely knew what I was getting myself into] or why I felt the need to promise God I would remain faithful to Him and my husband…I just know that it’s the right thing for me.

As I got older, I found more scientific reasons to want to wait till marriage. How oxytocin, the chemical in women that is released during sex or having a child, makes us automatically attached to our partner/kids [Oh, hey typical break up scenes of women being emotional basket cases].

Granted, it’s been a struggle…and just as I’ve learned about love, I realize that this is a choice. Every morning I must wake up and make the choice to continue soldiering on. But I can vouch that it's not always easy.

Yet, growing up having made this choice has led me to the blessing of understanding what a great gift this was for me. I have learned so much about people and myself by treasuring this part of my being. I have met men who view me as a challenge, women who are rude and jealous because they weren’t raised to see it in such a way, even acting professors who feel that I am ‘missing out on a great learning experience by waiting’ and who urge me to ‘just do it’…but then, sometimes, I am lucky enough to meet those very few who cheer me on when they hear my story.

They might not know it, but they are my heroes for accepting me.

And, my favorite part of all this is the realization of what a wonderful gift this will be to give to my husband on our wedding night! Me. My entire self. What better way to prove to him how much I treasured his existence…long before I even knew his name.

Sex is sacred. It is truly a gift given to us by God. It’s a spiritual act that unites two people so that ‘two will become one flesh’. How beautiful. Our hearts, minds and bodies become so incredibly interlaced, till we cannot bear to part.

How lovely.

No worries, my friends, this is not a reflection meant to judge other people’s choices or lifestyles. In fact, I'm supportive of all my friends and family in their choices, especially if they're happy. I’m simply, sharing with you who I am. And while it’s scary to do in a world that is not always so gracious about such choices, I wanted to open my heart to you all.

It’s funny, the other day I was visiting my friend at her college. Her best friend found out [he’s a jock type personality] and while in shock his response…surprisingly uplifted me:

‘You’re still holding your v-card? You’re like 21, man! Actually…that’s kind of impressive.’

If only he knew.  

Do me this one favor, my dear brothers and sisters in Christ… Look into your hearts, my friends. Take a moment to reflect on how holy this act truly is, because in this society—we rarely hear it spoken as such. Recognize how beautiful it is, and how it is a GIFT! Gifts, especially from God, shouldn’t to be thrown about. We deserve to enjoy sex as He created it to be enjoyed; as a spiritual, physical and emotional journey that we can partake in without guilt or worry—with the one He has created for us to love.

It’s the least we deserve.