The basics sound pretty boring: my fiancé and I are virgins and we’re stoked about our wedding night (197 days to go!). Not in the, I-Am-Going-To-Give-You-The-Most-Awkward-Kiss-EVAH kind of wedding excitement, but more of a, Ahh!-Finally-We-Are-Officially-And-Sacramentally-One.
B., my fiancé, is a med student, and his absolute comfort with all parts man and woman have made our conversations about sex hilarious and genuine. There is nothing I can say to shock him. He’s delivered a few babies now (under his attending, during his OB/GYN rotation) and has seen more women in their real form, not a glorified one. Women do not go into the hospital looking like a super-model, and I take comfort in knowing he sees my body as it should be.
I’m slender and reasonably athletic, but I still have my problem areas, for instance. B. shrugs and says, women carry around more body fat. It’s not an insult, it’s a fact. When we started discussing NFP, he asked me about my cycle. He isn’t grossed out by blood, or easily for that matter. I keep him more-or-less updated on it, since it’s a little irregular. Moreover, since we live two hours away from each other (generally), we’re accustomed to and satisfied waiting; we know this will come in handy when he has long shifts at the hospital or we have to abstain.
The best part about being virgins is the ability to show another person how much you love them without the Trump Card. I don’t have to prove I love B., because I’ve already agreed to marry him, bear his children, and spend my life with him. I love him, so I want to do all these things with him. I want to have sex with him: but not yet.
There is an order to life, as we see in the sacraments: first we are baptized and consecrated to God and the Church; then we reach an age of rationality, repent, and receive forgiveness for our sins; then, once we are purified, we receive the body and blood of Christ; this is followed by a re-dedication to the Church, to live out our faith, and a re-infusion of the Holy Spirit to set fire to our lives and souls. After that, what road will we take?
I watched an interview with Olympian Lolo Jones last night. She is a virgin and the interviewer was laughing at her as she said it was harder than training for the Olympics or finishing college. I wanted to shout AMEN SISTER!!! and tell the interviewer to stop laughing. Why would you laugh at another person’s honor and nobility? And stop with the Tim Tebow jokes: their bravery only underscores a weakness in American virtues.
What separates man from beast is reason; sex is the “natural” thing to do, but humans can choose not to do it. Just because you can have sex with anyone doesn’t mean you should, and the most reasonable thing in my mind is to continue to honor and respect my future husband by not having sex with him, just as he does to me. It may not sound very sexy, but much fruit can be born as two commit to sanctifying themselves (and consequently, the other) on their path toward a all-encompassing unity.
B. has blessed my life, and I am a better woman for it. Our shared temptations only bring us closer as we avoid decisions that will radically change our lives.
Our wedding night is going to be awesome, in the awe-inspiring sense of the word. I don’t know what to expect, but I’m not too concerned. This isn’t to say I won’t get nervous jitters, but I trust B. so explicitly that I know whatever happens will only further solidify that God matched us in Heaven.
Originally posted on Kate L.'s Real Catholic Love and Sex blog, as Part II of her honeymoon series