Living in Nashville, Tennessee, I was right in the heart of the True Love Waits movement that swept through the ’90s. Purity culture was at its peak, and I found myself deeply entrenched in conservative churches and Christian schools. My days revolved around religious teachings, rarely encountering views that deviated from a strict Christian perspective. I was the ideal audience for this movement, and I wholeheartedly embraced its sexist and patriarchal messages.
During this time, many of us took abstinence pledges, and purity rings adorned the fingers of countless teenagers. There were even “purity balls” where fathers and daughters dressed up in their finest attire, and young girls vowed to their dads that they would remain chaste until marriage. One of the most troubling aspects of this movement was its outright exclusion and condemnation of the LGBTQ community. This exclusion ultimately led me to reevaluate how purity culture had influenced my beliefs and feelings.
While I can’t change my past, I can ensure that the cycle ends with me.
In my late twenties, my father revealed to me that he was gay. To be honest, I had suspected it for a while. By that point, I had already begun to distance myself from conservative church ideologies, believing I had unlearned the harmful teachings about sexuality and sin. So, when my dad came out, my immediate reaction was fear for his eternal fate. Why did I feel such terror? It became clear to me that I still had work to do. I needed to confront the biases that purity culture had ingrained in me. If I wanted to fully support my dad in this new chapter of his life, I had to dismantle these ingrained beliefs. The effects of purity culture were still very much alive in my mind.
Here are some revelations I’ve had about my experience with purity culture:
- Unrealistic Standards of Purity: Purity culture imposed an unattainable standard regarding sexual purity. It taught that merely thinking about sexual acts was as sinful as committing them. Any sexual thought I had was framed as sin, and I believed that self-control was not enough to make me pure. Sexuality was only acceptable within the confines of marriage.
- Identity Tied to Virginity: I received praise for my outspoken commitment to sexual purity, which boosted my sense of self-worth. I even worked with organizations promoting abstinence, believing I was fulfilling a divine mission. However, after marrying, the first time I had sex felt like a loss of part of who I was. It left me questioning my identity, and I found myself grieving rather than celebrating a milestone that was supposed to be fulfilling.
- Negative Body Image: As a plus-size woman, I found the messages from purity culture confusing. I was told my body was inherently attractive, yet I also internalized that my size made me undesirable. This conflicting narrative left me feeling both sexy and unworthy, leading to a poor self-image that I continue to address.
- Unrealistic Expectations for Marriage: Purity culture promised a “reward” for abstinence—a blessed marriage filled with spiritual intimacy. However, the reality fell short of these expectations. My wedding night was beautiful, but it lacked the magical transformation I had been led to anticipate. The shame surrounding sex had lasting effects, and many people my age still feel those repercussions.
- Harmful Teachings: I believe those who promoted purity culture genuinely thought they were doing the right thing. However, their beliefs didn’t negate the harm caused. Shame attached to sexual expression can lead to lifelong trauma, especially for those who identify as LGBTQ or who have experienced sexual abuse. I didn’t see the full impact until I began to step away from those teachings.
- Breaking the Cycle for My Kids: While I can’t change my own experiences, I am determined to ensure my children don’t endure the same fate. I’m teaching them that their bodies belong to them. We engage in age-appropriate discussions about bodies and consent. I want them to know they can come to me for support and guidance when they choose to explore their sexuality. I won’t impose strict rules that suggest their natural desires are wrong.
Looking back, I realize I feel a sense of loss for not having the freedom to explore love and intimacy on my terms. My partner and I suppressed our feelings to adhere to a movement that ultimately caused harm. I often wonder what our first experience together would have been like if we hadn’t felt confined by rules that prioritized virginity over genuine connection.
In summary, while I cannot erase the influences of purity culture on my life, I am committed to ensuring my children grow up with a healthier understanding of their bodies and sexuality. For more insights, check out this post, which discusses similar themes. For additional resources on pregnancy and home insemination, visit the World Health Organization’s page on pregnancy and Cryobaby’s at-home insemination kit.