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The other day, while rummaging through my jewelry box for some earrings, my fingers brushed against a tarnished ring. I pulled it out, surprised to find a piece of jewelry I had almost forgotten about, yet its influence has lingered for years. If you grew up in the ’80s and were part of a Christian youth group, you might also remember wearing a True Love Waits ring, a symbol that sat on your left ring finger.
As I examined the ring, I noticed that while it was still intact, the silver had lost its shine. The black lettering, proclaiming my vow to remain sexually pure until marriage, stood out clearly—proof that some messages withstand the test of time. Unfortunately, the memories this ring evoked were not joyful. My upbringing in purity culture instead fostered feelings of shame, frustration, anger, and confusion.
The aim of the True Love Waits movement was to glorify God by abstaining from sex until marriage, which was expected to occur between a Christian man and woman. At that time, same-sex marriage was not recognized by society or deemed acceptable by religious teachings, reinforcing the notion that our virginity was a gift to be saved for marriage.
Once married, however, we were encouraged to engage in sex liberally, as the primary purpose was to procreate. Rather than celebrating our new identities as newlyweds, we were pressured to immediately transition into parenthood.
The lack of education around sex, bodies, and consent was astonishing. The message leading up to marriage was simply: “don’t do it.” The greatest fear was being discovered—either through an unexpected pregnancy or an STD that would force an uncomfortable conversation with our parents.
The issue isn’t necessarily the choice to wait until marriage for sex. If that’s your preference, that’s perfectly fine. However, the rhetoric surrounding True Love Waits was damaging, steeped in guilt and shame. How could the adults who urged us to wait expect us to seamlessly transition from being unmarried to married, especially when we had been conditioned to view sex as sinful? For many of us, having sex with our spouses after years of being taught that it was dirty proved to be much more complicated than anyone had prepared us for.
As teenagers, we were led to believe that our sexual urges would lead us straight to condemnation. So, we would engage in innocent behaviors with our crushes on Saturdays and seek forgiveness on Sundays—a confusing cycle that only deepened my perfectionist tendencies. Questions like, “Does God still love me?” and “At what point does God stop loving me?” plagued me. I wondered if my desire for physical intimacy with my boyfriend was evidence of a lack of love for God.
In this culture, dating was synonymous with marriage. Although we didn’t officially call it courtship, that’s essentially what it was. Group dates were permissible only if the person was seen as marriage material—someone who was both a Christian and a virgin.
We were taught that sex complicates relationships by creating an emotional bond that is sacred. Our education on the subject consisted of a few out-of-context Bible verses and little else. The one youth group member who became pregnant faced immense pressure to marry her boyfriend immediately. They were told to start their lives together as soon as possible, as living with shame was not an option. Marriage was seen as a solution that legitimized both the child and the couple. Divorce was also considered a sin, so the stakes were high.
Pushing teens to find “the one” as quickly as possible is absurd. We were bombarded with the idea that “it’s better to marry than burn with passion,” ignoring the reality that we were already experiencing those “burning” urges. The idea was to satisfy those urges with our soulmate once we tied the knot.
What troubles me most about True Love Waits is the overwhelming shame it instilled in us, regardless of our individual journeys. Those who engaged in sex before marriage were left with a distorted view of God’s love and judgment. Those who waited found themselves struggling to dismantle the toxic messages they received about their bodies, sex, and marriage. And for those who identified as LGBTQ+, the message was one of condemnation.
No one truly wins in this scenario. Many of us fortunate enough to recognize that True Love Waits perpetuated a culture of shame have sought help through counseling and education, yet many continue to suffer in silence. It’s disheartening to think that some may still believe in the principles of TLW and pass those same messages to their children.
If you were part of the True Love Waits culture, I want you to hear this: God loves you, and nothing you did or didn’t do can change that. Also, it’s significant to note that Joshua Harris, the author of “I Kissed Dating Goodbye,” which advocated for sexual purity until marriage, has since renounced his own book. We have an opportunity to raise our children differently—teaching them about their bodies, relationships, sexuality, and consent without passing on the harmful messages we received.
I chose not to discard my True Love Waits ring, as it serves as a powerful reminder of my journey and my ongoing growth. I am happily married to the man I “waited” for, but I attribute our success to breaking free from the toxic shame culture—not the ideals of True Love Waits.
For more insights on this subject, check out this related post about navigating the complexities of sexual education and relationships. Additionally, for those interested in home insemination, you can find excellent resources at Make a Mom, where they offer an authority on the topic as well.
Summary:
The author reflects on their experience wearing a True Love Waits ring, a symbol of purity culture that incited feelings of shame rather than joy. This culture pressured youth into believing that abstaining from sex until marriage was necessary for God’s love, while simultaneously instilling guilt about their natural urges. The article discusses the long-lasting impact of these teachings, emphasizing the importance of breaking the cycle of shame and providing healthier education about sexuality and relationships for future generations.