This particular topic is one that is very near and dear to my heart. And, if permitted (even though you don’t have a real say in it because I’m writing this), I would like to share my heart and part of my story with you.
In today’s society, females (and males) are hounded with this false sense of security that unless we have a guy by our side we cannot be protected, or (as was my case for a long time) we are just as strong as they and do not need a Saviour. We are damsels in distress who can fight our own wars and have the scars to prove it. We are drowned by ideologies that unless a guy sleeps with you, you’re not worth much. Your level of beauty is determined by the man who catches your eye and your heart. Your value is determined by who got your “V-Card”, or for others it’s determined by how you’ve kept it. There’s a billion different ways to determine value, self-image, self-worth and confidence, the whole shebang, but I think it’s safe (yet scary) to say that the age of girls wanting to be in a “relationship” is diminishing lower and lower by the year.
I work with a lot of teenagers, especially at this new youth camp in Dallas called “Youth for the Nations”, and I hear a lot of stories and have seen even more tears as girls pour their hearts out and share about how they have been hurt in past relationships. (Side note, I understand that guys can be just as hurt as girls even though they are not as emotional, trust me, I know all too well… But seeing as I hail from the female race they will mostly be the target for today’s space.)
Being a girl is hard, but being a girl with standards is even harder.
Growing up I knew I had value, but as time went on, and “the real world” began to rock my boat, the value seemed to dwindle slowly, slowly, slowly over the years. At a young age I had decided not to give in to sex prior to marriage, but it wasn’t until I was in my early twenties that it made sense why. As a teenager, I was boy-carazy! I had several crushes roll around my head all at once, all the time, all day long, and a few would consume my daily thoughts and nightly dreams to extremities-which I am not proud of. But being a 5’8″ fourteen year old with thin white blonde hair and braces didn’t do much for grabbing their attention, unless it was for jokes and mockery–being a brainac didn’t help much either. As I went into high school, braceface-free (thank the Lord), I still stood out like a sore thumb but drew more negative attention to myself than anything else. Two weeks into entering public high school (with 800+ freshmen alone), I was robbed at gunpoint and in a car accident all in one night. I was so scarred and so scared that I put up a mental and physical block in how I dressed and wore my makeup which told people to go away, even though deep inside I just wanted to be loved and for someone to notice me. Eventually towards my Senior year I would get over it and out of it, but at this point I still had never been in a relationship or asked on a date which messed with my insecurities hardcore.
I began to question my beauty and my value, and wonder what was wrong with me. Was I too tall? Does it intimidate guys in the fact that I’m a 5’11″ seventeen year old? Is is terrifying that I am more athletic than some of my guy friends? (Not anymore, unfortunately…) Do I not wear enough makeup? Am I wearing it wrong? Are my clothes too loose? Are they not cool enough? (It’s hard enough to find clothes in the Junior’s section, but I was not about to go into the women’s because that’s for “old people”). Is it weird that I wear guys’ shoes because they don’t make 11-13′s for girls in the shoes I do like? Am I too quiet because I’m so insecure about my height and looks? Is weighing 160 lbs at 5’11″ too fat? Surely there is something wrong with me, otherwise I wouldn’t be single anymore…I mean, that’s what everyone else believes and says so it must be true. Right?
WRONG.
I finally got my first taste of “being in a relationship” when I was 19, but it was a total, complete God-thing that we were long distance. It was a rough ride, and a hard journey, but I have come to find the beautiful truth in the midst of it all. And that is the wait is worth it, because you are worthy of someone’s waiting.
I met my first (and last) boyfriend on Catalina Island while on a retreat with a youth group from my old university. I was standing at a table waiting to sit and eat when he appeared out of nowhere across from me. I don’t know how I hadn’t seen him before, he was 6’4″ and had really awesome green/blue eyes. He stuck his hand out, let out a huge smile, and said, “Hey! I’m Cody!” I smiled back, shaking his hand, “I’m Lauren,” I said, and that’s where the end became my beginning.
When I first met Cody, I thought he fit the bill. I had made a mental list of standards for myself, and got serious about it only after I got my heart broken chasing after a boy who would never want me in the way I wanted him, or look at me as anything more than an opportunity for the “I got the Christian Girl’s V-Card” trophy and used me as a “fallback girl”. I had also met Cody a week after my beloved Aunt had committed suicide, so I was in a desperate place to find love and acceptance.
We saw each other around the camp and would talk periodically, or crack jokes, or comment on each other’s talents, but it wasn’t until the last night when he and I were sitting alone on the beach away from the group we usually sat with by the bonfire that it all clicked. I had just told two friends earlier that I really liked him but I wasn’t sure if he liked me. As we sat there on the beach, I poured out my story and my brokenness to him, and he simply sat there listening and hugging me as I cried when I talked about my Aunt. Looking back on it now, I see that this was big mistake #1. I barely knew this kid, and I was already treating him like a best friend and boyfriend potential. I was letting my guard down and stranger danger in. I’m not saying Cody was a bad guy, to this day I would never say that, but he definitely was not the right guy I should have been sharing this information with at that moment.
A few days had passed, we both had gone our separate ways, exchanging numbers just before we left, and began to text and call one another nightly. For a few weeks, we would call every night and soon we became “official”. Every night it became a ritual for us to call and talk for hours about anything and everything. There were a few struggles I had never shared with anyone that I told him, and he had shared the same with me.
Looking back on it, this can be counted as a plus/minus situation. In retrospect, it helped pave the way for freedom in strongholds that would come to fruition later, but at the same time it created a soul tie between us that would later break my heart as they had to be broken off. I had no prior experience or knowledge with relationships, so I didn’t know about the do’s and don’t's. The only real “don’t” I knew was “don’t go too far”, but with us living nine hours apart in two different states that wasn’t too much of a problem. Not to mention, we had both agreed to wait until marriage so we were covered.
A couple months passed by, and he and his family made plans to come meet mine. What was not necessarily known is that we had contemplated the thought of marriage and for a few weeks had convinced ourselves we were right for each other. We both loved God and wanted to serve as youth pastors, eventually even majoring at a West Coast Bible College, along with starting ministries in our home churches. We both were from the same youth group so we had similar belief systems and standards, but what neither of us realized is that we were not equally yoked in the callings on our lives because we could not (and at the time would not) see the BIG picture.
Needless to say, he came and visited me in Vegas and that’s where the end began. After dropping him off at his hotel on our last night together I wept the whole way home but I didn’t know exactly why, but I had my reasonings: Reason #1, I knew I would not be able to see him again for a long time, at least not for another four months (we were planning on me potentially visiting him for his birthday) or Reason #2, we kissed and when we did I knew in my gut he was not the right one, and it was killing me. (I had made a promise to myself after listening to Anberlin’s “Inevitable” that my first kiss would be my last one, because I had saved that for so long and wanted to share it with my husband. It didn’t help that I played that song the whole ride to and from the hotel.)
I pushed reason #2 out the window, and for the next few weeks things seemed to die down and spiral out of control. He talked the same and acted the same, and I loved the way he treated me with his words, but something felt off. It didn’t feel right. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but deeeeeep down I knew I wouldn’t be with him for much longer.
The week before my sister’s wedding we broke up. It was quick and seemed to come out of left field, but looking back on it now it was the perfect timing. As I mentioned earlier, we were not equally yoked in our destinies, and I believe that no one should sacrifice their dreams for love. Instead, you should find someone who shares your passions and your dreams and learn to love them and run with them after the goal. A month after breaking up with Cody, I gained a heart as a missionary to the nations, a month after that I felt called to work in Las Vegas, a place that Cody did not particularly like and never could thrive. He was too much of a country simple hunter, I am a city-fied girly speedster. He prefers old trucks, give me a Mustang GT with V8 power. He’ll get lost in the woods and stay there for hours, I’ll love the woods for an hour or two then ask for wifi. He loves to hunt for deer, I love to hunt for bargains. We are completely opposites, but sadly it took a hard breakup to realize just how true this statement was.
It’s been three and a half years since Cody and I broke up. And it’s been a long and hard three years since I made a new promise that I intend to keep: “The next everything-the next kiss, the next date, the next idea of a potential relationship, the next engagement, the next (and first) wedding and first time-will be the last everything.” I made this promise to myself, and to God, for several reasons:
Reason #1. I’m worth the wait.
It’s been a long and hard road to find my value and identity as who I am, not who others think or say or want me to be. I no longer judge my value by the level of attention I get from guys, or the depth of my beauty by the depth of skin that comes my way making a comment here or a whistle there. (Coming from a very worldly atmosphere in Vegas, guys are not afraid to speak what’s on their mind, and they’ll let you know EXACTLY what they think of you and your body. Thankfully, I’ve learned to tune it out and sometimes shut them up, or change lanes and speed up.)
Reason #2: My husband is worthy of my all.
Why on earth should I expect something from him if I am not willing to give it myself? It seems highly unfair that I should expect him to hold himself to such a level of patience and purity that he waited for marriage, but I may not have because someone who was “super sexy” and the “hottest guy in school” wanted a crack after getting drunk? Why should I expect him to hold himself to such a high standard if I’m not willing to put in the effort to hold myself up there prior to me meeting him?
Reason #3: I have yet to meet anyone who shares my dreams and passions, or holds the same standards to the same levels I do.
There’s a huge difference between “I love Vegas and would do ministry there” and “I love Vegas to the point I would die trying to save it.” I’m for the latter. I don’t want to leave this world knowing that I did nothing to change (or at least attempt to change) the stereotypes of “Sin City” to “Saint City.” (Call me crazy, but that’s my dream, and my dreams are usually pretty out there.)
Reason #4: I don’t want to mess up, again.
I’m not saying my dating Cody was a mistake, not in the least bit. I learned a lot, and gained so much more revelation and wisdom in hundreds of areas of life–most of which he will never know about, as I will never know what he learned from me. But, when I look back on our relationship I see there were some things/words I wish I could take back. But I can’t. I never will be able to because it’s in the past and what’s done is done. But at the same time, I refuse to let my past become my present or a repeat to my future. My past cannot touch me because I have been redeemed, restored, renewed. I am a new person and I never want to go back to the way I used to be.
I’ve also become much more protective of myself in regards to how I let guys treat me and honor me. But there was a time I became a little too overly-protective and it bit me in the butt. It’s been a long and hard journey these last (almost) four years, but it’s worth it. I know that there is a man out there waiting and working to become the man I need him to be. I have redesigned my standards for my husband, but this time I made sure to run them by my Heavenly Father first because He knows what’s best for the both of us (Jeremiah 29:11). I even have dared to pray that the Lord would not let us meet until we are the man/woman that the other needs. Along this journey, especially these last six months, I have lost all boy cravings and craziness. I don’t crave a boyfriend anymore because I am secure in my own skin and identity, and I know that God will bring him when the time is right. I have this saying that I once saw on a t-shirt, “A girl needs to be so lost in God a guy needs to seek Him to find her.” For me, personally, this is perfect.
On the flip side, I have also come to terms with being okay as being single for however long it takes. I’m not saying I want to be single forever, but I know that there is a destiny I can and I feel I need to fulfill prior to me being in a relationship. I know there are still a few bags left that I need to get rid of because I don’t want to drag my guy into it. He shouldn’t have to deal with my struggles unless they are correlated with him or our relationship. He shouldn’t have to struggle with me as I fight the demons of my past. Yes, I’ll let him fight some dragons, but only if they come up after we’ve met. It is the job of my husband to protect me and love me, but it is also my job to lift him up and to encourage him in the fight.
If there’s anything I have learned on this journey of singleness it’s this: relationships, as a whole in the eyes of the world, are overrated because all too often people within them become broken and berated because they have not waited. Purity goes beyond sexuality. Purity goes into the very core of the heart which longs for love and acceptance, but has been falsely taught that it can obtain both through physical affirmation. Sometimes it can, and many times it should, but sadly it does not because the way we have been taught is wrong. You are not loved if you’re in between the sheets. You are being used. It’s not love if he kisses you “passionately”, you’re just the temporary satisfaction for a raging reaction that will keep coming as you keep giving. It’s not love if he asks you to marry him but looks at others the same way he looks at you.
Don’t settle because of curiosity–curiosity killed the cat for a reason.
Don’t lower your standards out of fear that this may be the only chance you’ll get. (Trust me, it’s not.)
Don’t give up, the wait is worth it.
Don’t give in, the best is yet to come.
The wait is worth it, because you are worthy of someone’s waiting.
In today’s society, females (and males) are hounded with this false sense of security that unless we have a guy by our side we cannot be protected, or (as was my case for a long time) we are just as strong as they and do not need a Saviour. We are damsels in distress who can fight our own wars and have the scars to prove it. We are drowned by ideologies that unless a guy sleeps with you, you’re not worth much. Your level of beauty is determined by the man who catches your eye and your heart. Your value is determined by who got your “V-Card”, or for others it’s determined by how you’ve kept it. There’s a billion different ways to determine value, self-image, self-worth and confidence, the whole shebang, but I think it’s safe (yet scary) to say that the age of girls wanting to be in a “relationship” is diminishing lower and lower by the year.
I work with a lot of teenagers, especially at this new youth camp in Dallas called “Youth for the Nations”, and I hear a lot of stories and have seen even more tears as girls pour their hearts out and share about how they have been hurt in past relationships. (Side note, I understand that guys can be just as hurt as girls even though they are not as emotional, trust me, I know all too well… But seeing as I hail from the female race they will mostly be the target for today’s space.)
Being a girl is hard, but being a girl with standards is even harder.
Growing up I knew I had value, but as time went on, and “the real world” began to rock my boat, the value seemed to dwindle slowly, slowly, slowly over the years. At a young age I had decided not to give in to sex prior to marriage, but it wasn’t until I was in my early twenties that it made sense why. As a teenager, I was boy-carazy! I had several crushes roll around my head all at once, all the time, all day long, and a few would consume my daily thoughts and nightly dreams to extremities-which I am not proud of. But being a 5’8″ fourteen year old with thin white blonde hair and braces didn’t do much for grabbing their attention, unless it was for jokes and mockery–being a brainac didn’t help much either. As I went into high school, braceface-free (thank the Lord), I still stood out like a sore thumb but drew more negative attention to myself than anything else. Two weeks into entering public high school (with 800+ freshmen alone), I was robbed at gunpoint and in a car accident all in one night. I was so scarred and so scared that I put up a mental and physical block in how I dressed and wore my makeup which told people to go away, even though deep inside I just wanted to be loved and for someone to notice me. Eventually towards my Senior year I would get over it and out of it, but at this point I still had never been in a relationship or asked on a date which messed with my insecurities hardcore.
I began to question my beauty and my value, and wonder what was wrong with me. Was I too tall? Does it intimidate guys in the fact that I’m a 5’11″ seventeen year old? Is is terrifying that I am more athletic than some of my guy friends? (Not anymore, unfortunately…) Do I not wear enough makeup? Am I wearing it wrong? Are my clothes too loose? Are they not cool enough? (It’s hard enough to find clothes in the Junior’s section, but I was not about to go into the women’s because that’s for “old people”). Is it weird that I wear guys’ shoes because they don’t make 11-13′s for girls in the shoes I do like? Am I too quiet because I’m so insecure about my height and looks? Is weighing 160 lbs at 5’11″ too fat? Surely there is something wrong with me, otherwise I wouldn’t be single anymore…I mean, that’s what everyone else believes and says so it must be true. Right?
WRONG.
I finally got my first taste of “being in a relationship” when I was 19, but it was a total, complete God-thing that we were long distance. It was a rough ride, and a hard journey, but I have come to find the beautiful truth in the midst of it all. And that is the wait is worth it, because you are worthy of someone’s waiting.
I met my first (and last) boyfriend on Catalina Island while on a retreat with a youth group from my old university. I was standing at a table waiting to sit and eat when he appeared out of nowhere across from me. I don’t know how I hadn’t seen him before, he was 6’4″ and had really awesome green/blue eyes. He stuck his hand out, let out a huge smile, and said, “Hey! I’m Cody!” I smiled back, shaking his hand, “I’m Lauren,” I said, and that’s where the end became my beginning.
When I first met Cody, I thought he fit the bill. I had made a mental list of standards for myself, and got serious about it only after I got my heart broken chasing after a boy who would never want me in the way I wanted him, or look at me as anything more than an opportunity for the “I got the Christian Girl’s V-Card” trophy and used me as a “fallback girl”. I had also met Cody a week after my beloved Aunt had committed suicide, so I was in a desperate place to find love and acceptance.
We saw each other around the camp and would talk periodically, or crack jokes, or comment on each other’s talents, but it wasn’t until the last night when he and I were sitting alone on the beach away from the group we usually sat with by the bonfire that it all clicked. I had just told two friends earlier that I really liked him but I wasn’t sure if he liked me. As we sat there on the beach, I poured out my story and my brokenness to him, and he simply sat there listening and hugging me as I cried when I talked about my Aunt. Looking back on it now, I see that this was big mistake #1. I barely knew this kid, and I was already treating him like a best friend and boyfriend potential. I was letting my guard down and stranger danger in. I’m not saying Cody was a bad guy, to this day I would never say that, but he definitely was not the right guy I should have been sharing this information with at that moment.
A few days had passed, we both had gone our separate ways, exchanging numbers just before we left, and began to text and call one another nightly. For a few weeks, we would call every night and soon we became “official”. Every night it became a ritual for us to call and talk for hours about anything and everything. There were a few struggles I had never shared with anyone that I told him, and he had shared the same with me.
Looking back on it, this can be counted as a plus/minus situation. In retrospect, it helped pave the way for freedom in strongholds that would come to fruition later, but at the same time it created a soul tie between us that would later break my heart as they had to be broken off. I had no prior experience or knowledge with relationships, so I didn’t know about the do’s and don’t's. The only real “don’t” I knew was “don’t go too far”, but with us living nine hours apart in two different states that wasn’t too much of a problem. Not to mention, we had both agreed to wait until marriage so we were covered.
A couple months passed by, and he and his family made plans to come meet mine. What was not necessarily known is that we had contemplated the thought of marriage and for a few weeks had convinced ourselves we were right for each other. We both loved God and wanted to serve as youth pastors, eventually even majoring at a West Coast Bible College, along with starting ministries in our home churches. We both were from the same youth group so we had similar belief systems and standards, but what neither of us realized is that we were not equally yoked in the callings on our lives because we could not (and at the time would not) see the BIG picture.
Needless to say, he came and visited me in Vegas and that’s where the end began. After dropping him off at his hotel on our last night together I wept the whole way home but I didn’t know exactly why, but I had my reasonings: Reason #1, I knew I would not be able to see him again for a long time, at least not for another four months (we were planning on me potentially visiting him for his birthday) or Reason #2, we kissed and when we did I knew in my gut he was not the right one, and it was killing me. (I had made a promise to myself after listening to Anberlin’s “Inevitable” that my first kiss would be my last one, because I had saved that for so long and wanted to share it with my husband. It didn’t help that I played that song the whole ride to and from the hotel.)
I pushed reason #2 out the window, and for the next few weeks things seemed to die down and spiral out of control. He talked the same and acted the same, and I loved the way he treated me with his words, but something felt off. It didn’t feel right. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but deeeeeep down I knew I wouldn’t be with him for much longer.
The week before my sister’s wedding we broke up. It was quick and seemed to come out of left field, but looking back on it now it was the perfect timing. As I mentioned earlier, we were not equally yoked in our destinies, and I believe that no one should sacrifice their dreams for love. Instead, you should find someone who shares your passions and your dreams and learn to love them and run with them after the goal. A month after breaking up with Cody, I gained a heart as a missionary to the nations, a month after that I felt called to work in Las Vegas, a place that Cody did not particularly like and never could thrive. He was too much of a country simple hunter, I am a city-fied girly speedster. He prefers old trucks, give me a Mustang GT with V8 power. He’ll get lost in the woods and stay there for hours, I’ll love the woods for an hour or two then ask for wifi. He loves to hunt for deer, I love to hunt for bargains. We are completely opposites, but sadly it took a hard breakup to realize just how true this statement was.
It’s been three and a half years since Cody and I broke up. And it’s been a long and hard three years since I made a new promise that I intend to keep: “The next everything-the next kiss, the next date, the next idea of a potential relationship, the next engagement, the next (and first) wedding and first time-will be the last everything.” I made this promise to myself, and to God, for several reasons:
Reason #1. I’m worth the wait.
It’s been a long and hard road to find my value and identity as who I am, not who others think or say or want me to be. I no longer judge my value by the level of attention I get from guys, or the depth of my beauty by the depth of skin that comes my way making a comment here or a whistle there. (Coming from a very worldly atmosphere in Vegas, guys are not afraid to speak what’s on their mind, and they’ll let you know EXACTLY what they think of you and your body. Thankfully, I’ve learned to tune it out and sometimes shut them up, or change lanes and speed up.)
Reason #2: My husband is worthy of my all.
Why on earth should I expect something from him if I am not willing to give it myself? It seems highly unfair that I should expect him to hold himself to such a level of patience and purity that he waited for marriage, but I may not have because someone who was “super sexy” and the “hottest guy in school” wanted a crack after getting drunk? Why should I expect him to hold himself to such a high standard if I’m not willing to put in the effort to hold myself up there prior to me meeting him?
Reason #3: I have yet to meet anyone who shares my dreams and passions, or holds the same standards to the same levels I do.
There’s a huge difference between “I love Vegas and would do ministry there” and “I love Vegas to the point I would die trying to save it.” I’m for the latter. I don’t want to leave this world knowing that I did nothing to change (or at least attempt to change) the stereotypes of “Sin City” to “Saint City.” (Call me crazy, but that’s my dream, and my dreams are usually pretty out there.)
Reason #4: I don’t want to mess up, again.
I’m not saying my dating Cody was a mistake, not in the least bit. I learned a lot, and gained so much more revelation and wisdom in hundreds of areas of life–most of which he will never know about, as I will never know what he learned from me. But, when I look back on our relationship I see there were some things/words I wish I could take back. But I can’t. I never will be able to because it’s in the past and what’s done is done. But at the same time, I refuse to let my past become my present or a repeat to my future. My past cannot touch me because I have been redeemed, restored, renewed. I am a new person and I never want to go back to the way I used to be.
I’ve also become much more protective of myself in regards to how I let guys treat me and honor me. But there was a time I became a little too overly-protective and it bit me in the butt. It’s been a long and hard journey these last (almost) four years, but it’s worth it. I know that there is a man out there waiting and working to become the man I need him to be. I have redesigned my standards for my husband, but this time I made sure to run them by my Heavenly Father first because He knows what’s best for the both of us (Jeremiah 29:11). I even have dared to pray that the Lord would not let us meet until we are the man/woman that the other needs. Along this journey, especially these last six months, I have lost all boy cravings and craziness. I don’t crave a boyfriend anymore because I am secure in my own skin and identity, and I know that God will bring him when the time is right. I have this saying that I once saw on a t-shirt, “A girl needs to be so lost in God a guy needs to seek Him to find her.” For me, personally, this is perfect.
On the flip side, I have also come to terms with being okay as being single for however long it takes. I’m not saying I want to be single forever, but I know that there is a destiny I can and I feel I need to fulfill prior to me being in a relationship. I know there are still a few bags left that I need to get rid of because I don’t want to drag my guy into it. He shouldn’t have to deal with my struggles unless they are correlated with him or our relationship. He shouldn’t have to struggle with me as I fight the demons of my past. Yes, I’ll let him fight some dragons, but only if they come up after we’ve met. It is the job of my husband to protect me and love me, but it is also my job to lift him up and to encourage him in the fight.
If there’s anything I have learned on this journey of singleness it’s this: relationships, as a whole in the eyes of the world, are overrated because all too often people within them become broken and berated because they have not waited. Purity goes beyond sexuality. Purity goes into the very core of the heart which longs for love and acceptance, but has been falsely taught that it can obtain both through physical affirmation. Sometimes it can, and many times it should, but sadly it does not because the way we have been taught is wrong. You are not loved if you’re in between the sheets. You are being used. It’s not love if he kisses you “passionately”, you’re just the temporary satisfaction for a raging reaction that will keep coming as you keep giving. It’s not love if he asks you to marry him but looks at others the same way he looks at you.
Don’t settle because of curiosity–curiosity killed the cat for a reason.
Don’t lower your standards out of fear that this may be the only chance you’ll get. (Trust me, it’s not.)
Don’t give up, the wait is worth it.
Don’t give in, the best is yet to come.
The wait is worth it, because you are worthy of someone’s waiting.
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