I grew up in a Church that introduced me to Jesus, which forever changed my life, but also a Church that failed me in some areas as I was a young girl growing into a woman.
Purity culture.
I remember at the ripe age of 12 being taught that my value, all of it, was found in body and how untouched it was. I remember being taught that I was a flower, but that each time I did something sexual, a petal would be taken away, and if I wasn’t careful I would have nothing left to offer my husband.
I, of course, guarded my purity at all costs after that, but it came with some baggage.
Along with teaching my worth was how pure my body was, also came the teaching that my body was “a stumbling block” that could cause men to do bad things.
I remember most clearly learning this lesson on my very first mission trip to Tijuana, Mexico. I was 13 years old and wore the same shirt nearly every day, it was a comfort to me in my changing body. The problem was that when I rose my hands above my head a small sliver of my mid-drift would show. I was told by my youth pastor that it would make men stumble, and that I needed to change my shirt immediately.
I did, but was mortified that I had brought shame upon myself.
Later that week, a man walking down the street intentionally and maliciously grabbed my breast as I lagged behind the group. I was terrified, but I didn’t tell anyone. I knew it was my fault.
As I grew older, I clung to my purity, and even when I was only kissing my boyfriend. I still had an irrational fear that I was pregnant, and I would lose everything I loved. It was irrational, but some part of me feared that if I lost my purity, I would lose everything.
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized this shame I felt about my body was not of God, but was something I was taught.
Years later, when I read the book Pure by Linda Kay Klein, I discovered that I was not alone in this phenomenon.
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