At just 13 years old, I was introduced to the ‘True Love Waits’ movement during a church youth group meeting. Having recently started my period and only dabbled in early dating experiences, I found myself in a situation that felt overwhelmingly inappropriate. The expectation was clear: I was to make a solemn commitment to abstain from sex until marriage, despite still playing with dolls and grappling with basic bodily functions.
In this environment, I was taught that God demanded I keep my “gift” sacred, which meant dressing modestly and avoiding any clothing that could be deemed provocative. The weight of responsibility fell on me to ensure I didn’t inadvertently incite any lustful thoughts in boys by revealing too much skin, while conversations about sexuality were largely absent.
We were discouraged from discussing the realities of attraction, including the fact that some of my male peers were not interested in girls, or that some of my female friends might be attracted to other girls. Television shows like Will & Grace were considered sinful, as was any acknowledgment of LGBTQ identities. My understanding of anatomy was limited, and I was entirely unaware of what certain terms meant—like the number 69—which were whispered about among older teens.
The doctrine I absorbed painted a stark picture of morality: being LGBTQ was condemned, abortion was a sin, and any exploration of my own body was taboo. My body was described as a temple, meant to be honored through modesty and the wearing of a silver ring that bore the inscription “True Love Waits,” which I was told would remain until I exchanged it for a wedding band.
Fear was a powerful motivator; the thought of an unplanned pregnancy or contracting an STD haunted me, even though I had limited knowledge about such issues. The ‘True Love Waits’ initiative, while well-intentioned, cultivated an atmosphere of shame and anxiety, a breeding ground for confusion.
As I reflect on my experience, I realize many of us agreed to this commitment out of a desire for validation. We were celebrated for pledging to save ourselves for our future spouses, who were also expected to be virgins. The narrative promised that marital sex would be fulfilling and lead to a happily ever after—yet no one discussed how to foster healthy relationships outside of the act itself.
When one of our youth leaders, at only 19, became pregnant, our group was shaken. The scandal was focused on her, while the male peers remained largely unscathed by societal judgment. Among us, it was common knowledge that many teens were engaging in sexual acts, even if they weren’t technically having intercourse.
Looking back, the flaws in the ‘True Love Waits’ doctrine are glaring, especially as I now find myself in the role of parent, tasked with educating my children about bodies, relationships, and consent. The pivotal moment came when my oldest child innocently asked, “Mom, how do babies get into a mommy?” This question opened the floodgates to discussions that extended beyond just the mechanics of sex to encompass emotional connections, consent, and broader topics like the Me Too movement.
Having already instilled in my kids the proper names for their body parts and the importance of privacy, I felt prepared—yet nervous—about the conversation ahead. With four children, I know that our discussions about these topics are just beginning. I sometimes feel conflicted and unsure, especially as someone who grew up under the rigid teachings of ‘True Love Waits.’
While I don’t consider waiting until marriage to be inherently wrong, I advocate for comprehensive sex education that empowers children to make informed decisions. I refuse to pass on the shame and misinformation that stemmed from my own upbringing.
At 37 years old, I’m still unraveling the tangled emotions from my past. I strive to be the kind of parent my children need, committed to providing them with the honest guidance I wish I had received. Sharing my journey is daunting, but I hope that by doing so, others who have experienced similar teachings will feel less isolated and find the strength to redefine their understanding of love, relationships, and sexuality.
We all deserve a healthier perspective.
For more insights, check out this article and discover fertility resources from Make A Mom. For those seeking more information about pregnancy and home insemination, the CDC offers excellent resources.