I got a call from my doctor that I never dreamt I would ever get. Growing up in a Christian bubble, if you will, never prepared me for what I was living. The nurse, who was a person from my faith, was calling me to inform me that I had an STD. I could hardly speak. I knew it wasn’t me. As a knee jerk reaction, I asked, how could that be I had never been with any man other than my husband. Not that I didn’t know how it could be, but because a part of me was trying to cope with the shame. I instinctually had to make it clear it was not me. I could sense the nurse’s hesitation and discomfort. “At least it was not AIDS,” I mentally coached myself, “it could have been a lot worse. Right?”.
It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving. There he was the handsome doctor from Colombia. He even dressed in a way that was reminiscent of my father. He had a blue shirt just like my dad, and he was working as a salesman of religious books; again, just like my father! My father was to me not perfect, but a spiritually mature man with a heart dedicated to God. This handsome guy was a medical doctor, a fellow intellectual. It was the man I had been waiting for all my life. A man with his medical knowledge and talent, combined with my mental health education and expertise, would be the ultimate ministry duo. Even our personalities were complementary. I was the introverted touchy-feely type; he was the consummate extrovert, charming and likable. I was in my 30’s, and time was running out to have children. I was emotionally and physically deadlocked, but things were going to get better, I thought. The flourishing hope of infatuation had been lit. I knew better than to call it love. Years of practice had trained me to acknowledge without knowing someone it is impossible to call it love. We love the idea of who we think they are and what we think we could be as a result. But while the analytic in me stated this verbally, my heartfelt contradictory remarks.
I grew up in a protected environment, where you learned to wait for the man of your life until you are married. When I was younger, I got a book from my mother to teach me what I needed to know about sex. I never read it. It didn’t even have pictures! A couple of black and white images of people walking. When I met the man, who would become my husband, I never knew how ill-prepared I was to deal with what I was about to face. For all the church talks about sex, they never covered what I experienced. The only thing I knew was, “say no to sex until marriage.” I thought I got this down, simple enough. I had gone through a sex education course to teach adolescents in schools. I was the only one in the entire group of single co-workers who had never had sex. It was uncomfortable at times, but I learned a lot about physiology, STD’s, but again, no covering how saying no is in practice. No covering how to deal with someone’s advances. After all, this was public school; kids just needed to know how to have safe sex.
I remember it was after church, they were kicking us out, because they needed to close and the question of if he had a place to have lunch came up. We had a pleasant lunch and conversation. He was endearing, although, a bit boring. He only talked about himself, his interests. But I love intelligent conversations, and although it was not exactly what I would have expected of a guy showing interest in me, I invested in the conversation. I chalked up his self-interest as a rambling of his nervousness. He ended up inviting me to dinner, and little did I know how much that first date would set the standards of our relationship. This restaurant was one of those that place some crayons at the table. And he had taken them into his hands shredding the paper wrapping them. As he did this, he was looking down, and he was saying something about making so many mistakes in his life, concluding with he was no good.
My fatal flaw got engaged at this point. No, I did not want to rescue. As a mental health professional and woman, I can see where readers may think I wanted to fix him, and that’s why I let things get to where they did. My weakness, however, was not about saving someone else; it was about not hurting someone else. He looked so fragile, just as a child who needed nurturing that if I said no or push him away, I felt I would destroy him. Later, I would recognize my awful pattern. Although I knew after that date that this was probably not a compatible match, I could not just tell him that! Therefore, we continued talking, and he, in turn, continued to invite me out. From here, things started to go south fast. After going to a movie together, he began kissing me. We were nothing, no relationship had been established, and it was not light kissing, it was significant kissing. I felt uncomfortable. Now let me remind readers conservative upbringing here and limited experience in all things sexual. I recognize that this may not have made just anyone uncomfortable, but the key here is I was uncomfortable, and that was not okay.
How was I supposed to say anything? Instead, I did what I thought was the best course of action. I would have a conversation where I would ask what his intentions were with me. Later, I would learn that he interpreted this as me pushing the relationship forward and forcing a relationship. I never imagined that what I was communicating was not being received how I intended. He thought it was me propelling onward, when, in fact, my questioning was a reflection of my confusion and an indirect way of saying slow down. Within weeks, it was not just intense kisses. Things had become more sexual in ways that the films I’d watch had never covered. The perfect whirlwind romance of these movies was no longer reflective of my relationship. My naivete was being challenged.
When he started pushing me toward sex, it made me so uncomfortable. I could no longer remain silent; now, we were going against my very sense of self and values. I summoned my courage and openly and straight forward told him no. What followed in our relationship is what I was never prepared to deal with and would shatter my world. Throwing me into a crisis that I am still recovering from. Saying “NO” was not enough.
I was reading Sex, Jesus, and the Conversation the Church Forgot by Mo Isom. I identified with how she talked about her relationship with her would-be husband Jeremiah, I could identify with him. My husband, the sexual addict who has struggled to have any healthy sexual relationship, meets me, someone who never had difficulty with promiscuity and was attempting to live a pure life. I prayed for years, so our story would end to glorify God as Mo Isom story seemed to be doing. However, mine would have a different ending. There is still something called free will. My husband would never want to follow a path of healthy sexuality nor allow God to redeem our marriage. Instead, he chose to believe that the problem was sexual incompatibility instead of unhealthy sexuality. Yes, there were other issues such as mental health problems that were there long before we met, in both of us, not just him. I chose to be healthy and whole, attempting to move forward always in life, and he decided to remain the same. I decided there was no compromise to be made with my emotional, physical, and spiritual health.
Now that our relationship is over. I want to talk openly about my experience for two reasons: first, I want to help others learn how to deal with sexuality healthily in the open, in an honest, and real way; second: silence only begets shame, and I have nothing to be ashamed about. I made mistakes. I have sinned. I am forgiven. I am taking a bat straight to the pedestal of where people have placed me. Whatever I am, or I will ever be, I owe to my God. I recognize that my failings are my own and hope that by sharing them, I can help others heal from similar shameful experiences. I do this too so that others will not place me on a pedestal where only God belongs. This is my story, my journey, and my purpose to create a place where people can come without judgment and talk openly about their struggles to find answers.
Sex the forbidden topic in many Christian communities has served only to shame individuals and leave them ill-prepared to deal with the reality of life. This website is for all who want to have a healthy sexuality, whether happy with their sexuality or ashamed of it. Sex was created by God to be of pleasure, and yes even to glorify him. This site is for the sexual addict, the prostitute, the sexually anorexic, the gay, the straight. The site is for women or men who struggle with pornography addiction. It is for the woman or man who is married to the one who is a sex addict or pornography addict. Yes, even to those who cannot speak about their sexual issues, because they are unacceptable to anyone in society. This website is not to change your sexual orientation. It is a site to help you live a healthy sexual life that recognizes the importance of value, dignity, and respect for others.
I am creating this blog, along with online courses and coaching services to help others who want to have a healthy sexuality. You can find more on this topic and the services mentioned above on our website https://reclaiminghealthysexuality.com.
I look forward to this new chapter of my life and journey and the hope that I can in some way, help others in reclaiming healthy sexuality.