A Reflection on the Purity Ring Phenomenon

Ok, Vanessa, this post is for you. Just because you're really good at bugging me to write more often.

The other day I was reading a favorite blog of mine, Theocult, which had a link to another website, which had several blog posts dedicated to discussing purity rings.

For those who aren't familiar, a purity ring in the Christian subculture is a gift usually given by parents, specifically the dad, to an adolescent girl with the understanding that it represents the girl saving herself--physically, emotionally, and spiritually--for marriage. In some cases, it could mean a promise not to kiss a guy before marriage. In other cases, there might be an understanding of the father "keeping" the daughter's heart with the intention of transferring ownership to her future husband one day.

As a former "purity ring" wearer and advocate, this is one of the many things about my conservative upbringing that I have thought back on with a certain sense of wonder. Now that I'm a little bit older and have some perspective, I'd like to share my piece of story and insight with you.

It began very early on in my life. As far back as I can remember being old enough to have conversations about such things, I can only remember being heeded about "guarding your heart" (not forming attachments with guys who are not your husband), saving yourself for marriage (not having sex, not even kissing a guy until the altar), and following Jesus and allowing Him to bring your future spouse to you. I'm not saying this is all bad, or that there isn't truth in this, but I think that by the time I was in college it was at such an extreme version that it really got twisted around.

It was my sophomore year in college that I found myself holding the pieces of a broken relationship--one that I thought would end in marriage. I was so sure of the outcome, of God's hand in this, that it would cause me to question my ability to hear God's voice for years afterward. That year was a turning point in my life. I was never the same innocent, naive person after that. I remember the feelings so distinctly, of having gone through all the right steps and the right motions and ending up in such a terrible place. I felt lied to. I felt betrayed by all the courtship books I had ever read, all the speakers and the mentors and my parents and anyone who ever dared tell me that my life was going to be a Christian version of a fairy tale if I just did XY&Z.

Hadn't I guarded my heart? Hadn't I not even so much as kissed him, or held his hand? Didn't I trust God fully in this? Hadn't I prayed for hours over this decision? Hadn't I gone over and above every obligation required of me?

In the end, I found that my "purity ring" actually represented a contract that I thought I had made with God. It went something like this: If I kept myself "pure", then God would bring my handsome prince.

God DID bring my handsome prince. But I am so glad that He was not willing for me to keep my low view of Him that He allowed me to experience heartbreak, to break my existing mold of who I thought God was, and to bring the beginning of a new journey of knowing that God cannot be tamed into doing what we want by performing a certain way. His love is far too unconditional for that.

There came a day soon after that breakup that my purity ring went to rest in the bottom of my jewelry box, never to be resurfaced. I realized that, among other things, love requires risk. You cannot have love without pain, which is what all of those books and speakers and mentors were trying to save me from. I realized that I already had a savior and that it was time to step out from under the protection that I thought the purity ring offered. And so, though I kept my vow to remain pure until the altar and I don't regret that even for a second, I let go of all the other things that went along with it. I kissed "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" goodbye.

Freewrite #1

I'll never forget the moment when I realized that my husband needed me to push against him. He needed me to be the strong woman that he married. He needed to not do things his way all the time, needed me to offer my voice, to not give up at the least resistance.

You see, I still believe in submission and authority, but it has taken on a different form than I ever expected or ever even saw in my lifetime. I think that my idea of submission was to never offer an opposing opinion or preference but to always defer to Justin, blindly trusting that he would make the right decision, the one that was best for me too. I'm coming to realize that submission is much deeper than just a non-resistance, but a laying down of my own desires in order to choose the best for my husband. At one blow this expels any notion of ruling with an iron sceptor as well as living in a passive-aggressive relationship with some form of submission that stifles true love.

It would be so much easier for me to just will myself to agree with Justin or want to do something just so that I can go along with him. This keeps the "problem" in my realm, no need to talk to Justin about it or actually enter into what might be a very uncomfortable discussion. I just set my mind toward a certain disposition and away we go... adding one more drop into my resentment bucket along the way. No wonder so many women are so bitter and feel so oppressed.

I believe there is deep meaning in the term "helpmate" for women. I believe that it is one of God's beautiful mysteries about women to be gentle and soft and at the same time strong. Now to live in that reality.