What Courtship Was for Me

What Courtship Was for Me March 7, 2015

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I grew up in a community where courtship was not only the ideal but also the only option considered godly. Dating was for worldly people who didn’t care about things like purity, marriage, or family. And yet, I don’t think my parents actually sat down beforehand and hashed out how they were going to handle things. When I was grown and entered the world of romantic relationships, they seemed to be flying by the seat of their pants—in other words, their approach changed over time.

My own “courtship,” if we can call it that, had three phases.

Phase 1: Hands Off 

During this period, my parents were fairly hands off and assumed that I would hold myself to certain courtship standards (such as having chaperones) voluntarily and that I would not choose to court someone who did not share their (our) beliefs.

My parents assumed that I wouldn’t express interest in courting someone who didn’t share our underlying beliefs and assumptions. They trusted me on this so much that when I expressed interest in courting Sean, they gave me the green light without first interrogating him about his beliefs or practices. This surprised me, in part because my parents knew Sean was Catholic and I’d expected them to take issue with this. In fact, I asked my parents’ permission to court Sean in part as a way of laying out a fleece—I was worried about certain of Sean’s beliefs, and felt that if my father gave us the go-ahead in spite of these issues that would be a sign from God that this was His plan for me.

My parents also trusted us to handle things like chaperones on our own. After all, I had met Sean at college, and I lived in a residence hall on campus several hours from home. My parents knew I had a close group of evangelical friends and assumed that these friends would hold us accountable. What they didn’t realize is that these friends were also entering relationships around the same time, and that none of us were that interested in being checked up on by anyone else. We were enjoying our freedom from the expectations of parent and pastor.

This phase ended several months later when my parents learned I had come to believe differently from them on evolution and creationism—they were staunch young earth creationists, but I had come to find theistic evolution more convincing. My parents concluded (wrongly—it’s a long story) that I had changed my position because of Sean, and I think their takeaway was that they couldn’t trust me to make wise courtship decisions after all.

Phase 2: Cracking Down

During the second stage of my courtship, my parents sought to fix what they now viewed as a mistake—their early hands-off approach—by cracking down completely. They flat out ordered me to break up with Sean. They told us that if we broke up and had no contact whatsoever for two years, we could resume our relationship after graduation with their blessing and support regardless of our beliefs. It was transparently obvious to me that this was a ploy to get us to break up for good, and to remove Sean from my life.

What is really fascinating, in retrospect, is that they really believed they had the right to do this. They didn’t request that I break up with Sean, they ordered me to break up with him, and they expected me to obey them.

At this point I no longer saw my parents as fallible, and I refused to obey them. I spent a long, miserable summer at home putting up with their emotional manipulation and guilt trips, and then I fled, like a bird from a cage, resolving not to return. Needless to say, my father was quite upset with me. In a move I will never quite understand, he formally put me out from under his authority at the end of the summer and told Sean that I was his responsibility now. In fact, he even sent a letter to Sean’s father informing him that I was now their responsibility.

I think my father was extremely frustrated with me but also felt responsible for me.

After this, I stopped calling it courtship. Sean and I were dating, and I was responsible for my own destiny. My parents had cracked down so hard that they had virtually ensured this would happen. They miscalculated. They somehow thought I might actually take their offer, but in actual fact their offer was so outrageous that it ensured I wouldn’t listen to them anymore. They made following their rules appear completely unreasonable, so I stopped trying.

Phase 3: Damage Control

During this phase I was operating as a free agent, but my parents weren’t quite finished. After all, there was still my father’s blessing at stake. Frankly, my father’s blessing wasn’t even on my frame of reference at this point. In fact, when he brought it up to me, it took me by surprise. I knew I was operating outside of my parents’ wishes and I assumed that meant my father’s blessing was off the table.

But my father’s blessing clearly mattered a great deal to him. Looking back, I suspect my father was rather tortured by everything that had happened. We had always been incredibly close, he and I. I was his oldest daughter, his golden child. And here I was, engaged in a serious relationship he had told me to end. Could he give me his blessing should I marry? Or not? Looking back, I’m not surprised this question bothered him.

When I visited home over Christmas, my father sat me down and gave me a list written on a three by five card. My father told me he would give me his blessing if the young man in question met the following requirements:

1. He must adhere to the Nicene Creed of 325

2. He must be baptized as an adult

3. He must be 100% pro-life

4. He must either (a) have a college degree or (b) have worked at the same job for at least one year and save $10,000

I think my father felt he was making a concession—and I suppose he was.

There was nothing on the list about being a young earth creationist, or about being evangelical, or even Protestant. As a Catholic, Sean met the first requirement, and once he graduated he would meet the fourth requirement. Sean had been baptized as an infant but could meet the second requirement by being baptized again as an adult. The third requirement was a bit of a sticking point, though I don’t think my father realized this—at the time, he probably assumed Catholic meant 100% pro-life.

I think my father may have been trying to find a way he could give me his blessing while saving face. He told me that if Sean met these requirements, I would have his blessing. He would put up to $5000 toward our wedding and my younger siblings would be allowed to play a part in the ceremony. Honestly? I think he wanted to give me his blessing.

Conclusion

One of my biggest takeaways looking back on all of this is that my parents were as out of their depth as I was. At the time, I saw them as confident and self-assured, but from my vantage point today, it’s pretty clear that they were shifting around trying to figure things out for themselves. They had been fed a load of fairytales about courtship and the relationships it produces, but when the rubber met the road all of their hopes fell apart in their hands.

I turned down my father’s blessing. Sean told me he was willing to be re-baptized—he really did want to please my family. My mother pointed out to me that the male lead in My Big Fat Greek Wedding was willing to be baptized to please his wife-to-be’s parents, but I don’t think she realized that the sticking point wasn’t Sean, it was me. It was the principle of it, and besides, as long as Sean wasn’t baptized we could all ignore the problem of the third requirement. Sean was pro-choice, and by this time so was I—but my parents didn’t know this, and I didn’t want them to know. I had stopped telling my parents what I did or did not believe, and was more than happy with that.

The summer of my wedding my father called me and left a message on my phone begging me to reconsider. I didn’t respond, though I did write him a long heartfelt letter that summer telling him I loved him and trying to explain what had happened between us. This was the last time we talked about any of this.

My aunt told me, in the midst of this, that when she and my uncle became engaged her father asked her three questions: Do you love him? Does he love you? Does he treat you right? And that was it. There were no questions about politics and religion, no discussion of college degrees or savings accounts (proxy for the ability to provide). When I think about the pain that could have been avoided if my parents had taken this approach, my heart aches.

If only my parents had never come in contact with the courtship literature and rhetoric they encountered after becoming part of the Christian homeschooling movement. Without this literature and rhetoric, they wouldn’t have thought they had the right—and the duty—to intervene the way they did.


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