I kind of always chased the wrong kind of love. From a young age my sinful nature caused me to believe the lie that I was alone on this earth. Unknowingly I had so much lust in my heart and it slowly manifested. At the age of 11, what began as innocent curiosity quickly turned into an addiction to pornography. It was temporarily fulfilling, but after a couple of years I realized that it made me see people as objects.
The end goal of christianity isn’t to have a family, but to become more like Christ. If you desire a man/woman above God you're missing it, marriage is now your god. He created you for relationship with Him first before anything or anyone else. We are to lay our lives down for Him, that includes laying your desires at his feet, and trusting that for those who love God all things will work together for good
Boys, relationships, sex, it's all so exciting. And your desire for it all, is actually completely normal. Just like most of you, I loved getting attention from guys. I particularly loved when a mysterious, unknown guy showed interest in me above all other girls. This was the scenario of my first kiss. I was 15 years old, at a music festival when a cute guy from one of the bands started talking to me. One thing lead to another, and before I knew it, we were making out
I was 23 years old when I got engaged to a guy I had been dating for just under a year. He was everything. Loved Jesus, came from a good family, was attractive and wanted lots of babies just like I did! Sounds perfect, right? Our relationship was full of passion, love letters and whimsical fantasy. I was lost in the ecstasy of young love, and whilst we had a wonderful dating relationship there was always something a little off with our communication and there were things that bothered me that I was too afraid to speak up about
I felt all that was good about sex was taken, the door was opened and would never again be shut. Fear was so deeply ingrained in me and the way I would grow to find meaning and search for my identity was tainted. My childhood would be overshadowed by the dark cloud of abuse.
I was single until I was 21. I never had a boyfriend, and never kissed a boy. I had been on dates, but that’s it. I felt so old to have never have had any actual experience with a guy! I had heard at youth that dating and sex were things to be handled with care, so I decided I didn’t want to get into a relationship until I was pretty sure it would be with the guy I’d want to marry.
Did the title grab you? I hope so because confession & pastor don’t usually go in the same sentence when really I think they should. The world isn’t looking for people who pretend they're perfect, but imperfect ones who reflect a perfect and gracious God. My story starts of pretty cliché but keep reading it takes an interesting swerve. I've been in Church since the moment I was born. I'm a pastors kid, I did all the right things, said all the right things, knew all the right things
My parents separated when I was four and my dad moved interstate. Growing up, I saw him a couple of times a year. My sisters and I would wait by the front door with so much excitement when mum said, "He'll be here in the morning" only to be disappointed when we realised he wasn't going to show up. I would watch my mum hurt for us every time she would have to be the one to say "he's not coming".
As a teenager I had my fair share of insecurities and was a lot more sensitive than I am these days. I hate to think what could have happened if I just threw myself into the dating game. I saw so many of my girlfriends endure complicated relationships and painful break-ups. I didn't want that. I didn't want someone else to dictate how I was feeling about myself.
Let me tell you a little about my story. It started with a 6 foot 7 tall man, chocolate and handsome, a sports athlete and his heart completely in love with the Lords. He was everything I ever dreamed of. I remember seeing him across the stadium at a big church conference lifting his hands in worship (I knew who he was because I had seen him on TV).
One night after dinner, I went to the bathroom that was underused, locked the door behind me and bent over the toilet to make myself vomit. I paused. Was I really going to do this? I didn’t have a lot of time to keep contemplating and I’d already made the decision, so I doubled down and went for it.
Growing up in a home with domestic violence meant many healthy boundaries were crossed. Physically and emotionally. So I lived a fairly boundary-free life. I bet right now you're thinking 'boundary-free' equals 'went off the rails' right? Wrong! For me, it was an oppressive, paralysing state - where I lived to please others at a cost to myself, and didn't know my voice mattered.
Here comes the Virgin Mary couple,” I heard them snicker as my boyfriend and I walked up to our Year 10 ‘friendship’ group at recess. Pretend you didn’t hear it. Just keep walking, stay cool and act confident, I told my fifteen year old self as we approached the group. This wasn’t an unusual experience for me at school; I was often the brunt of most jokes because I was the only one in that group who apparently hadn’t had sex.
He was what I had always imagined. A musician, loved Jesus and had a lovely family. Things progressed very fast and when he broke up with me out of the blue 9 months later, I thought the world was ending. I had never felt pain on this level in my entire life! So began the road to recovery, giving my all to God and not missing any church event or the chance to be touched my Jesus.
Previous to my husband I dated a guy for 3 years. I could easily have married him and lived a totally different life to the one I am living now. Thankfully God prompted me to end that relationship and I am so glad I didn't just settle for good, I waited for great. It’s not like my x was terrible, I just knew if we had of stayed together so much of who I am would have been compromised.
I guess you could say i fell in love with prince charming. the only catch was that i feel for him well before he fell for me. I was 3 years too soon and well and truly found myself in the "friend zone".
While I (unintentionally at the start) invested more and more time and feelings into this friendship I noticed my feelings for my ‘Mr Perfect’ were beginning to starve and shrink. Confusion, lack of sleep and infatuation left me looking to others for confirmation and assurance. It was a dangerous place to be. I started to let the opinions of people replace the convictions I was held.
When I was 16. I was sexually abused. It took me many years to even say those words: “I was sexually abused”. I felt those four little words could never capture the whole story. As if by saying those particular words I was joining a community of survivors far worthier of them, than I. As if by speaking them I could diminish someone else’s experience that was “worse” than mine.