I grew up in a very religious household. I remember in middle school signing a piece of paper and making a pledge to god that I would remain a virgin until marriage. For my senior graduation, my parents gave me a promise ring to wear on my ring finger, promising to remain faithful to that pledge. While I was growing up, I couldn’t date. My parents protected me at all costs from any ounce of the possibility of being in a situation with a boy that was remotely romantic. I know it was what they thought was best for me, and I can’t imagine growing up any other way. But honestly through it all, I didn’t really have any choice in what I wanted to do. I had to go to church twice a week, I had to sign that pledge and ultimately make a promise that I was not mature enough to be making.

Once I graduated high school, I made sure to go to a college far enough away from my home that I could make my own decisions and grow up. My lack of experience with boys (not just romantically or sexually, but dating or even really interacting with them) made me afraid of them. All boys just wanted sex; BEWARE. It may not have looked that way on the outside, but I constantly felt awkward and had no idea what I was doing. I was completely naive and oblivious to everything. Yes I had my crushes and such, but it wasn’t until the summer before my junior year in college that finally I became involved with a boy.

Growing up, I was taught that you court someone not date them. As in, you only become involved with someone if God told you he or she was “the one” and you court with the intent of marriage. The weight that I felt on dating wasn’t this intense, but it did make me picky. I wasn’t going to waste my time with someone who I didn’t think was potentially someone I could spend the rest of my life with. Not positively, but potentially.

The connection I felt with this guy was undeniable. I could immediately be my dorky self and he was ok with it. He still liked me. He was not a virgin and he knew I was, so he was very respectful of me and how I felt about everything and the pace we were moving at. He left everything up to me. We weren’t officially dating when I lost my virginity to him, but I didn’t care. I felt ready. I can’t really explain it, but it was just a feeling of complete comfort and safety. I also had an odd sense of relief after. My virginity had been such a huge deal all my life, and I was at the point that it was a bigger deal to everyone than it was to me. I thought I would feel guilty because of the promise I had made when I was younger, but I didn’t at all. Because I knew it was the right time for me, not part of some predetermined plan that others had for me.

I remember six months into our relationship, he met my parents. My mom took me aside and asked me if we had had sex yet. I panicked and said no. I don’t know why. I was mostly surprised at her directness and I don’t know if she believed me or not. I’m sure she knows now, being I have been with that same person for over five years now. I hope she’s proud of me for finding someone that I completely trust, even if we’re not married.