A guest post by Chryssie of I Am A Beautiful Mess
Around my 13th birthday, I began noticing that several of my friends had “purity rings” and I really wanted to have one as well. I didn’t fully understand or even relate to everything those rings stood for, but I was eager to have one, to fit in. I begged my mom to get one for me, because I really wanted a ring.
On my 13th birthday, my dad took me out to dinner for the usual daddy-date that happens on birthdays in my family. I don’t remember what he told me the ring meant, but I had already created my ideas about why I had the ring, and my dad’s only purpose was that this ring meant he had my heart. My dad and I never really had a relationship growing up, but I took the ring seriously. I vowed I would never kiss before I got married, or touch a guy, or have sex. Obviously.
I proudly showed off the little gold ring I wore on my right hand with the three tiny cubic zurconia stones. I explained that it meant that my dad had my heart and that it meant that I would remain pure until my wedding night. I remember having a brief conversation with a friend when I was 16 about waiting until the altar to have my first kiss. She kind of laughed and said that that’s what she used to believe, but to believe her when she said that it was hard not to.
As I grew older, and began to really notice other guys around me, I began wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy, or feel his arms around me. I would daydream and imagine being in a relationship with a guy I had a crush on. I would then have a guilt trip about daydreaming “impure” things and would immediately repent of my impure thoughts. I kept wondering and constantly processing my views and values on kissing before marriage. I watched, listened, and read books about keeping yourself pure. I watched several friends go through courtships, and I still couldn’t figure out if not doing anything more than holding hands was right or now. One of the couples didn’t do anything, and their first VERY awkward kiss at the altar scared the shit out of me. There was now no way I was willing to wait before marriage to kiss my guy. Even through all of this my dad was not a part of my questioning, my wondering. From the moment that he first gave me that ring, to the day I walked down the aisle and married a man, who is the kindest and most caring man I have ever met, my dad was not involved. It was about two years after he gave me that ring that I realized I was on my own with this stuff. It wasn’t cool, but I figured I would be alright.
This post is part of the Purity Rings project, in which young adults who had purity rings as teens and have since come to question the rationale behind them share their stories. For more purity ring stories, click here.