Imagine all the men you’ve ever given yourself to…
a deleted purity culture excerpt from my book "No One Loves An Angry Woman"
Firstly, thank you for the outpouring of support and solidarity in response to this reel about the pain of writing about purity culture. Most days when I’m writing No One Loves An Angry Woman I cry. Sometimes it’s a few quiet tears, sometimes I have to take a “breakdown break” and full body sob. It helps more than you know to hear that this book matters to you. It makes the hard work worth it.
So today I’m sharing a deleted scene from No One Loves An Angry Woman, because there were more purity culture stories than this current chapter was able to contain. This is one I have thought about countless times, because it fell outside of the objectification narrative, and made me think deeply about the power of shared experiences.
Imagine all the men you’ve ever given yourself to…
I sat on my top bunk during cabin time, nestled in my sleeping bag as the fog seeped beneath the window flap. My bible camp counselor, a girl barely out of high school herself, guided us through the familiar topic of purity. The discussion always came back to our future husbands, and how we could honor or dishonor them with our actions.
“I’ve already given away parts of myself that should have belonged to my husband,” my camp counselor said. Her voice was steeped with remorse over this imaginary man she had unwittingly betrayed.
I leaned over the bunk, eager to hear what line she had transgressed. Purity culture went beyond virginity: our thoughts needed to be clean, our bodies covered, we must be untouched in every way. I doubted her sins were as serious as mine, but I longed for a moment of solidarity. Of recognition. I wanted reassurance that there was a path back to the faith I was rapidly losing. That there was a way to become unbroken after my body had been sullied.
“I was in a relationship with a man I thought I was going to marry. And while we didn’t move into physical intimacy, I shared so much of myself with him. I told him I loved him, words that should have only been for my husband. We had deep conversations that should have been reserved for marriage.”
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