And so, when asked if there was something more than friendship going on, I said “yes”, because this year was about more than being single… this year was about being true to myself.

Maybe we should move in a direction of continual support for one another that is not delineated by household, but by trust in one another and in our shared values (whatever those might be). And perhaps the Church (and society as a whole) should look to single people who have already formed their own support networks to lead in this work.

Those who profit off of purity culture have turned shame and condemnation into an enterprise. They accumulate capital - social and economic - by perverting the faithful desires of those trying to draw closer to God, instead drawing them into a purity-based multi-level marketing scheme. The “modest is hottest” enterprise is a table stacked with coins in the temple, and it needs to be flipped. 

Last week, I shared an excerpt of a poem I was writing. This week, I’m sharing the whole rough draft with all of you.

The model of singleness I was given treated this time as preparation for someone else, but I believe it should actually be a time of purposely investing in and discovering myself.

And the younger me, that little girl, she’s really the one who’s looking around and asking these questions. She’s the one still begging for the approval of a crowd who’s already cast her out.

I tend to overextend myself before I prioritize myself. That’s part of what this year is though. It’s me hitting pause on one aspect of my life that causes me to decenter myself in the hope that I can work on more consistently centering myself so that I can regularly show up in spaces as my whole, present, well-cared-for self. 

In all honesty, this week has been too much for me. Perhaps if it was a rough week in the midst of calm weeks this post would be different, but it is a rougher week in the midst of rough weeks, and so this post will be a poem/monologue featuring everything I wish I could say to all the people I grew up with in my small, evangelical town.

Silence did not serve me well. Not the silence of my church on the topic of consent. Not the silence of my parents on the topic of sexual development. Not the silence of myself when I was faced with situations that left me hurt and confused.

When you leave the insular environment you grew up in, you lose your chance to have “old friends”. They are a luxury you simply cannot afford.

I’m tired. I just took a 4 hour nap, and I’m still tired. I’ve been tired all week. And, if I’m honest, I really want someone to be tired with or someone to help me bear my tiredness - maybe both.

One year ago today, I officially became “single” again.

“It didn’t have to be this way.”

That is the thought that echoes through my mind more than any other when I think about the ways purity culture has impacted my life, particularly as I wrestle with the emotions choosing to be single for a year brings up.

As I stepped into Holy Week last Sunday, I embarked on a journey of intentional singleness. The first thing I learned about the journey? It’s hard.

An introduction to the series, as well as the author - Sara.