No Sex In This Part of the City

 

sex and the city

 

Nowadays it’s almost impossible for me to scroll through my Instagram timeline without being slapped in the face with images of half-naked females, breast, big booties and the random sexually explicit memes. If that’s not the case, everyone is mysteriously drunk in love and the new definition of surfboarding has gone to a whole different level. While some are busy on a sexual tangent I’m just here drinking my tea, listening to some good ‘ol Lauryn Hill while waiting patiently for the “one” (wherever the heck he is).

I remember the days when I dreamed of living the life of the Virgin Mary and I swore my body would lay in no man’s hands unless I had a rock on my finger, and when I say waiting for the ring I don’t mean simply just for the ring. I mean after I spend my entire savings account on my Great Gatsby wedding with my overpriced wedding dress and after the “I do’s” are said and we have officially walked down the aisle. But of course that fairy tale went out the window when I found my libido knocking down my temple doors and I decided to lay on my back while I had all my sexual pleasures fulfilled in the hands of a man.

To put it in simpler terms… I started having sex for all the wrong reasons. In my eyes a good sex round equated to a high level of self-esteem. The only time I found confidence in myself was when a man-made it clear that he “wanted” me. In my eyes being wanted was all that I desired, but of course each time I gave a piece of me away I found myself becoming spiritually and emotionally bankrupt. What I was giving away for a few minutes of pleasure simply was not worth the pain, heartache and hurt that came along with it.

I fell hard into the lust trap, what makes it sad is that I depended on sex to tell me what the foundation of my self-worth was. I used to use ignorant foolish phrases like “it’s just sex” or “sex with no strings attached” in order to do my ego a favor every time a jab was thrown at it. Let me first say that through my now sexless journey in life, I realized the flaws in this theory of sex with “no strings attached”, and pardon my French here but that is pure bullshit!

Sex with no strings attached? Ha!… where is Nietzsche when you need him. There were so many strings attached I’m surprised I didn’t get caught in Charlotte’s Web, because this here was surely a sticky situation. From the moment of attraction that bullshit theory goes out the window. I was having sex to fill an emotional need, there goes one string. To satisfy my sexual urge, there goes another string. To make this more simpler, my needs were being met and because of that I was flirting around with destruction. Why destruction? Because sex should never be used out of its context, to use sex as a way to add value to my broken self-esteem was like dancing in a field full of grenades.

The moment I opened up my body was the moment I allowed someone to have a part of me, which I can no longer take back. The act of sex is being able to feel connected even through the soul, there’s an exchange that is being made through the body, the soul and the mind. The closeness makes you feel as if you are intertwined, a becoming of one, a powerful euphoria that is almost breathtaking. Indeed it is, and I found myself losing my mind, losing my breath and grasping for my soul every time I allowed a man to take away from what belongs to my husband (whoever and wherever he is).

Now to fast forward, I made an ultimately life changing decision. After ending it with my ex I felt depleted in every possible way, and that is because I gave him all of me, literally. My soul was so thirsty I felt like I was spiritually dying. In the midst of this I decided to about-face from my back-slidden ways and ran as fast as I could into the arms of the Lord. I had to complete a self-examination and seriously took a look at what I was doing to myself. I no longer enjoyed sex to be honest, it started as a self-fulfilling need and spiraled into the only weapon I had that allowed me to avoid loneliness. How could that ever be fun? It wasn’t and it never will be.

I decided from the moment I terminated my relationship that I would keep all departments closed until someone worthy enough comes along to take a look inside. I’m not just talking about keeping my legs closed; my mind and my soul are just as delicate as my vaginal walls. I believe in guarding my heart, along with guarding my mind, body and soul. I no longer desire to share myself with men who simply just don’t deserve to get a piece of the apple pie. I devoted my life to celibacy and I have for the last two years (yes y’all, damnnnn) and if it turns into 4, 5, 6 or 10 years then it is what it is. I already gave enough of myself away; it’s time for me to get it back.

My faith of course has a played a major role in this as well. I want to glorify God by abiding by his word, not by simply being a Christian who “flirts with the ideology of how much can I get away with and still be saved” … (thank you Janette… Ikz). That simply won’t add abundance to my life, and therefore I desire to worship God with my praises along with my body.

Sex is great, I get it… trust me, I really do. But it’s not so great when you find yourself becoming emotionally depleted every time someone who doesn’t belong in your temple takes a stroll inside. My body is sacred and that’s why two years ago I decided to wait for the “one”. Not for my boyfriend, not for my fiance but for my husband. I want a man who knows how to make love to me without the need to physically touch me; I want to know that a man understands the practice and the gains of having self-control. To me true intimacy is being caressed by the words of a man’s heart. I am no longer that girl who is searching for herself through a false orgasm, I no longer care or desire to please anyone with my body. I know who I am and I know I am worth waiting for. I may not know who my husband is, but I believe he is worth waiting for.

Celibacy is not a death sentence, no my vagina is not going to breakdown nor will it start to form cobwebs. It will not mysteriously circumcise itself and it will not start to deform. Yes at times it desires to be stimulated and I will not die from suppressing those urges. The act of celibacy in my eyes is a way to gain intimacy through the mind and soul, separate from the body. I want to be wanted for who I am, not because of the physical. It’s also me committing to an act of obedience by honoring God through my body but most importantly, it’s a way for me to love myself more than I ever have.

So as I said before, I’m just here sippin on my tea, listening to some good ‘ol Lauryn Hill while waiting patiently for the “one” …

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One thought on “No Sex In This Part of the City

  1. Pingback: Soul Food Sunday’s: Guarding the Gates |

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