Why I Choose to Remain a Virgin Until Marriage, Well Into Adulthood

An innocent vow at 11-years-old would grow into a beautiful promise to myself and my body.

So, I’m 26-years-old next month.

I’m engaged, and my wedding is this coming September.

I’m also still a virgin.

At 26. Yup, you’ve read that right.

I know, it’s not a common arrangement you hear about every day.

And innocent curiosity about it is fine — I was planning to share the details behind my decision eventually. However, feeling entitled to the details is not fine, so let’s just make an agreement as writer and reader that you get what I’m giving, and that’s enough. Cool?

Great.

So, on to my story!

It’s become less about religion, and more about me.

My vow began as a young girl, raised in a Christian household by loving parents. At the tender age of 11, I took responsibility for my own faith.

I was confirmed, and began navigating my personal relationship with God on my own terms. This developed into what felt to be a natural progression into saving myself for marriage.

God and I pinky-promised on that one. And I have never regretted making that vow for a single day in my entire 15 years of keeping it.

Today, while there’s still an undertone of keeping that promise between the two of us, there has also been a more prominent feature I lead with as a grown woman proudly budding with healthy sexuality and a partner with whom I am intimate:

This promise has become more about a commitment to myself — and I think that’s a pretty beautiful thing.

It made it easier to date.

Partial celibacy lends to one hell of an efficient screening process.

One mention of this, and it would send a large portion of men running for the hills as fast as their legs would carry them.

I would politely wave goodbye as they left dust clouds by sprinting in the other direction, with a happy smile on my face.

It worked quite well, as it sorted the right fits from the wrong ones (and helped to avoid scumbags all together). I was too high maintenance for guys who were only DTF. Just too much work for them. And I was damn okay with that.

Even as the men ran for the hills at the mention of “saving my virginity for marriage”, I always said goodbye to them with respect.

They have just as much right as I do to decide whether or not a potential suitor is the right fit for them, based on their personal criteria.

If they scare off because of a personal vow I’ve made, I am in no way offended.

We’re simply not the right fit for each other.

That doesn’t make them a bad guy or a shallow person, in any way, shape or form.

The respect has always been, and must always be, mutual.

I’ve written a whole article about this particular topic of dating in my current circumstances, so if you’re interested in digging a little more into it, you can read that article here:

It made me feel in control of my body.

If you’ve ever read my previous content before now, odds are you’re well aware of the fact that my first boyfriend was a garbage human being, who tried to rape my virginity out of me when I wouldn’t give it up to him willingly.

He had an odd misplaced sense of entitlement over me. I promptly left him following the sexual assault.

After that, I felt even more inclined to save myself for the good, ol’ long haul.

Because I still remember the terror and violation I felt in those moments when I truly thought my promise to myself was going to be forcibly taken away from me.

Since then, deducing whether or not a man respected me often came down to the first initial reaction after I clarified my vow.

At the end of the day, I have the right to use and maneuver my body in whichever way I see fit. And for the right guy, he would consider my soul and who I am as a person as worth the few years’ wait until he could have access to every inch of my body.

I eventually found that guy, and now I’m going to marry him and damn are we ever excited for intercourse!

Woohoo!

Final word.

From an innocent vow at a young age, this commitment became a way to honour and respect myself.

The thing which made it possible? Mutually respectful partners.

I would just like to clarify that I am in no way better and in no way elevated compared to anyone else, simply because I will remain (mostly) chaste until my wedding night.

F*ck that.

I’m not special — I’m just a human being who has the right, like anyone, to use my body in whichever ways I so choose.

I will raise my voice and stand behind my right to save myself for marriage JUST AS MUCH as I will stand beside my fellow sister who deserves the right to go out and get hers whenever she damn well pleases!

(As long as she’s being safe, of course. If she’ s not, I would show concern, but not feel entitled to strip her of her rights).

I talk to my girlfriends about their sexual exploits with absolute enthusiasm. I will be the first girl to say, “Yeah girl, get some!”

That’s called respecting each individual’s right to operate their body as the captain of their own ship, even if their personal choice differs from mine.

Because differing has nothing to do with it — that’s why it’s called a personal choice.

Anyone who tries to deprive an individual of that right is in the wrong and has violated another human being in one of the most damaging ways possible.

I should know.

I’m one of those damaged human beings now.