Is there anything wrong with delaying sexual activity? Certainly not. There are plenty of reasons to do that. If your reason is “Jesus will think I’m a slut,” of course, that’s problematic. Or is it? Take Fox News abstinence columnist (yes, that’s a thing) Steven Crowder–who is himself abstinent no more. Having patiently and virtuously saved himself for marriage, Crowder now has become an honest-to-God husband, complete with a beautiful, meaningful wedding night full of the best sex he’s had in his entire life. And that makes him better than you.
(Note: I’ve never had married sex, so I’ll have to leave it up to my married readers to report whether the marriage ceremony took their sex life from adequate/spectacular to transcendent. I think Jesus is supposed to be involved, though, so if your union wasn’t blessed by Jesus, you might not get the sex boost.)
We did it right.
Feeling judged? I couldn’t care less. You know why? Because my wife and I were judged all throughout our relationship. People laughed, scoffed and poked fun at the young, celibate, naive Christian couple.
…
Turns out that people couldn’t have been more wrong. Looking back, I think that the women saying those things felt like the floozies they ultimately were, and the men, with their fickle manhood tied to their pathetic sexual conquests, felt threatened.
FLOOZY.
(Note: I fully recommend, when you’re done here, clicking over and performing Crowder’s entire post as a dramatic reading. Do it with your partner in the room for maximum accusatory-finger-pointing impact.)
As my wife (again, still not used to that) and I ate breakfast at a local inn, we discussed how excited we were to start the rest of our lives together, how scary it was that everything was now so different. At the same time, we overheard the table next to us discussing their very own wedding from the night prior. What a coincidence!
Holy shit! I mean, seriously, how often do couples get married and then choose to spend their wedding nights at charming inns?
(Note: Never. Never is the answer.)
“Where’s the groom?” my wife innocently… scratch that, naively asked.
“Oh, he’s sleeping. There was no way he was coming out with me this morning!” She paused and smirked. “Let’s just say that he’s got a lingering headache from a really good time last night.”
My heart sank. Firstly, that poor schmuck’s “good time” was simply getting snookered. Not enjoying the company of close family and long-lost friends with a clear head and clean conscience, not staring in awe at his beautiful new wife, wanting to soak in every glimmer of her eyes as she shot him heart-racing looks from across the dance floor, not taking all of the cheesy pictures as they cut the cake, not even carrying her across that suite threshold as they nervously anticipated their “nightcap.” He probably won’t remember any of it. Instead, he got smashed. He was “that guy”… at his own freaking wedding.
How does he even know the slattern’s groom had a headache because he was getting slizzered at his own wedding? Obviously, as a complete neophyte and a repressed one at that, he has yet to discover the joy of wild, abandoned, headboard-banging sex, so let me share a bit of wisdom with him: If you’re doing it right, you’re going to end up exhausted with a headache every once in a while.
(Note: This is not true. There are plenty of people who aren’t into banging headboards and yet have gloriously satisfying sex lives. That said, I hope Crowder isn’t so repressed that he’ll never explore the wonders of sweaty baboon lovin’, and afterward I hope he blogs an open apology to the newlyweds from the B&B.)
(Another note: I was in a wedding recently where the bride made up for her lack of sleep the previous night by popping 5-Hour Energy. By the time she walked down the aisle, she’d had five of them. That’s 25 hours of energy. She was practically vibrating. I’ve never seen a happier or glassier-eyed bride at the reception. I have no doubt that she crashed like a stock car when they got back to the hotel, though, so it’s not unlikely that she was the one sleeping it off the following morning.)
Then I realized something. Our wedding was truly a once in a lifetime event. It was a God’s-honest celebration of two completely separate lives now becoming one. Physically, emotionally, financially and spiritually, everything that made us who we were individually was becoming what bonded us together. Our family traveled from far and wide to celebrate the decision of two young people to truly commit themselves to each other, and selflessly give themselves to one another in a way that they never had before that very night.
The people next to us that morning? Well, theirs was just one big party. And the morning after? Just another hangover.
Our “weddings” were the same event in name only. They know it, and we know it.
Unless Crowder sat down with B&B Bride to explain to her how his wedding was a beautiful coming together of two souls under the blessing of God while hers was a gin-soaked bacchanal, she probably didn’t actually know it. She probably thought, “This was awesome, and it was so good seeing all my old college friends again, and how do my feet not hurt after all that dancing?, and lordy Jesus the sex.” Poor, misguided woman. If only she knew.
Do yours the right way. If you’re young and wondering whether you should wait, whether you should just give in, become a live-in harlot/mimbo and do it the world’s way. If you’re wondering whether all of the mocking, the ridicule, the incredible difficulty of saving yourself for your spouse is worth it, let me tell you without a doubt that it is. Your wedding can be the most memorable day and night of your life… or just another party.
Oops. Did I just make a “judgment?” You’re darn right I did.
And it cut me to the bottom of my blackened, vacant, pathetic, fickle floozy heart.
(Note: This is true, and I had to comfort myself with a night of drunken getting’-it-on with my live-in mimbo. And now I feel dirty. Oh, Steven Crowder, when you’re right, you’re right.)
(via Jezebel)