Come again?

Celibacy… I don’t even know how to navigate that. Can I still like… give a dude an HJ after we make-out in his car and he grabs my boobs and stuff? Are HJs still a thing? IS MAKING OUT STILL A THING?! Have guys learned about boobs to like any degree at all yet?

Fuck.

When my dad passed away, I genuinely thought about burying my “true love waits” ring with him. For those unfamiliar with the movement, the “True Love Waits” (TLW) phenomenon really took southern baptist communities by storm in the early to mid nineties. (Holy shit, it still exists!) We signed a pledge that said we would “save ourselves” (like my whole fucking body and soul is hinging exclusively on the status of my hymen, but I digress…) for our super hunky, extra-sensitive, hilarious, and strong knight-in-shining-armor godly man who is conveniently also chaste. Then you wear this ring (of varying degrees of gaudiness. I suppose some to-be-pillaged vaginas are worth more than others, so why not have yours diamond encrusted?!), and that ring stays on your left ring finger until it is replaced by your engagement ring which will be lovingly slipped on to your finger when he surprises you at your sorority’s candle lighting that he staged just for you and your virginity and oh my god I didn’t want him to feel pressured because he doesn’t know but I’ve actually already reserved the date that my whole family will know that I will lose my whole self to you because we make sure and reiterate no less than 7 times during our ceremony then we go to our dry wedding reception which everyone fucking hates ok, perfect husband?! it’s time for us to have mediocre sex for the rest of our lives now while always thinking that is how it is supposed to be because naughty bits only produce children and satisfy desire of man. I. AM. MAN. *beats chest and points towards crotch * “me shove *gestures wildy * in you. *more gestures * ” Because God’s will.

 

Anyway I was 20 at the time and newly deflowered, and there was a lot I was hoping to bury.  I kid you not when I say that I dedicated 4-5 solid moments of thinking about burying the now-useless piece of silver with dad (my original example of a man/ God/ lots of other problematic attributes and metaphors, so says the church) until I finally decided. And by that I mean that I obviously decided to call my mom about it. To which she of course probably said something like “*deep heavy Hispanic mom sigh — Well mija, if you want. But your dad bought that to protect you, so…” So I just left the ring on some ring holder on a shelf that I probably bumped up against while banging dudes who had varying degrees of honorable intentions. Y’all remember? You know? Thaaaattt “celibacy.”

http://www.facebook.com/chelseapalmerphotography2/

Well so, great news! I am doing that again! Except not with the ring or the pledge card in my wallet. But more with a therapist and a series of to-be-determined potential suitor.

Contained within these {cyber} walls shall be: stories of dates with potential suitors (Henceforth referred to as PS#_), stories of where I have somehow gone wrong in love to be experimenting with celibacy when my eggs are FUCKING DYING EVERY FUCKING DAY, MOM, I KNOW and just stories of loving myself and learning how to love someone else too.

So stay tuned! I can’t wait to laugh with you. xx-Leah

p.s. As you can tell I am a total rookie at this. So PLEASE send me tips and tricks you love!

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