“You have to wait until marriage.”
I just stared at my mom blankly. She repeats herself, “You hear me? You have to wait until marriage to have sex. I know these little fast girls are running around having sex with whoever but you don’t need to be doing that.” I nodded.
Ever since puberty started knocking at my pubescent door, my super pious mother hammered into me that having premarital sex was a sin and unrighteous in the eyes of God. She told me that my virginity was precious and that I shouldn’t just “give it away” to just anyone. The only person who can have my virginity, according to her and the Bible, was my husband. The only sex partner I should have, ever, in my life is my husband.
I never questioned that honestly. I just went with it. Being born into a sheltered, Christian household I never really got the chance to think for myself. All my morals and values were decided for me and laid all out in the Bible. My mom nagged me about waiting until marriage so much that, eventually, that was what I sought to do.
When I was around 15 years old, I decided that I would buy a purity ring. With my allowance money, I went to the Christian merchandise store and bought a silver purity ring that had “True love waits” etched along the band. I wore it proudly. My parents were very pleased with my decision to openly state that I was abstinent.
At school, my classmates would tease me about wearing a purity ring. “So you’re waiting until marriage to have sex?” “Wow, so you’re still a virgin?” “So does that mean no oral or anal?” I would just nod and brace myself for the incredulous responses I knew I would receive. Word got around school about my purity ring. Even my teachers knew. Some praised me and some found it humorous. From them on, I was no longer known as Candace. I was now “Purity Ring.”
Initially, I wasn’t bothered by it but as the jokes persisted, my annoyance grew. It was as if I was being reduced to my walk in abstinence and there was nothing more to me. When people would tell me that they were “proud” of me for waiting until marriage to have sex, in the back of my mind, it kinda fascinated me. Why were they proud? What was so special about me waiting? Why was it such a huge deal? What made me different from other girls, in particular, who were sexually active?
Even though I was being heralded for “saving” myself until marriage, it didn’t change the fact that I’m human. Like any other growing teenager, I was hormonal. I was constantly thinking about sex. I was looking at boys in a different, more mature way. All these emotions were somewhat of a challenge to channel because I was taught that sex outside of marriage was a sin and any thought or feeling that was remotely sexual was not Christ-like.
My parents were open about sex. They were very honest with me about what sex was and how it affects people emotionally and physically. They were also realistic in thinking that there would be a slight possibility that I would choose to have premarital sex so they taught me about contraceptives. They taught me about keeping myself protected and safe. Don’t get me wrong, that’s awesome but while they’re educating me about safe sex, my mother, in particular, is deciding what I should do with my body for me.
As I grew older, I began to grow more apathetic towards the whole “waiting for marriage” thing. I began to realize that hey… marriage is a long time away and I doubted my hormones would be able to take that. Instead, I decided if I wasn’t going to wait until marriage to have sex, I would at least “lose” my virginity to someone I truly loved. That was the compromise I made with myself.
Then came college.
With college came temptation. I was free. I didn’t have my parents riding my back, clocking what I was doing. At this point, I no longer wore my purity ring. I was so apathetic about it that I didn’t even care to flaunt it anymore. Plus, I would’ve felt dishonest. I wasn’t waiting until marriage anymore.
As my college career progressed, I began to come into what is now widely known as my Black feminist identity. I was introduced to Black Feminism and Womanism through social media but mostly Twitter. I began following Black feminists and Womanists on social media. Their thoughts about Black women, culture, and sexuality were so insightful to me. Insightful to the point that I began to identify as a Black feminist myself.
With becoming a Black feminist, my perspective on a lot of things changed, including my perspective on religion and spirituality. How drastically my views changed as a result of Black feminism could almost be another book or chapter of its own so, in short, I will say a lot of Christian ideals I once believed in, made me raise a brow now. These same ideals clashed with things I now believed in.
One of the main things I believed as a young Christian woman was virginity was this precious “gift” I had to “save” for someone special--that special someone being my husband. How could I not believe this right? My mom shoved this down my throat. I had no choice.
Although, in the Bible, this same expectation is extended to men, ultimately, this standard is held against women in reality. A man “saving” himself for his wife is a luxury. It’s not an expectation people really have for him. I thought that was unfair. I also wondered, “Well, why is that?”
Unfortunately, we live in a world where a woman’s morality is measured by shallow things such as her sexuality. Personally, I would cite abrahamic religious dogma as the source for such mentality. For many, the idea of chastity was introduced to them through religious texts. The Bible teaches that a person’s purity is dependent upon their willingness to not “fall weak” to sexual temptation. As I’ve stated before, what may had been meant to be a Biblical standard for both men and women, became something ultimately held against women.
Women are taught that they should be “modest” when it comes to their bodies. Cover up and close your legs is the mantra. If you’re “modest” that means you’re in moral good standing, you respect yourself, and others, but more importantly, men, are guaranteed to respect you supposedly. Do the opposite and you’re an abomination to yourself and all of mankind. If a woman is “modest” that means she’s inherently a “good woman” to most people because that’s what we’re socialized to believe. A woman who does not reveal it all to the world isn’t “tainted.”
From this idea of modesty, comes the social construct of virginity. Yes, you read it right. I did just say social construct. That’s what virginity is. A social construct. It’s something fabricated by society. Yes, there is a such thing as people who haven’t delved into any kind of sexual activity but the idea that they’re somehow more “pure” than others is a construct and it’s a toxic one at that.
When we hound into young girls that their virginity is something that’s supposedly “precious” and is only to be “taken” by someone worthwhile, we are already, inadvertently, teaching them that their bodies are solely meant to be consumed. We are subconsciously already instilling into them that their bodies are objects and sex is something that happens to them instead of something