Let's Talk About Sex - and My Fear of Dating

I had no intention of publicly sharing what has been on my mind, but yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend and was reminded why I do this blog – to be vulnerable and real about real-life struggles faced by a devout Christ follower, to showcase how just because we have an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ does not mean we are above human temptations and vulnerabilities. Our conversation also reminded me of our Christian need to rise above our fears.

This topic is about something I have never felt comfortable discussing. If you have read my blogs in the past, you may wonder what I consider to be so embarrassing and difficult to discuss. Well, the topic is sex. Whew! Just thinking and typing that word makes me shiver with trepidation.

Before I continue, however, I want to give this disclaimer. I am not naming most names. Their names do not matter to this story, and besides, most of you would not know with whom I am referring anyway. When I talk about these men, including those I currently work with, keep in mind that 1) they are not men I work with in ministry and 2) I work in multiple locations with literally thousands of potential people. Giving names would not help you narrow anything down even if you know some folks from my past or who work in any of these locations. So, don’t even try to guess. My close circles would not guess correctly unless I have talked to them about these issues specifically.

So, here goes. Let’s talk about sex.

I have been wondering why Brad’s death hit me so hard and why I all of a sudden seemed to no longer have feelings for a certain man after Brad died. It makes sense now.

I am currently participating in a grief support group called Grief Share. Last week’s Grief Share video talked about the importance of walking through the pain, not around it or above it or below it. Psalm 23:4  says “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” I have to walk through it if I want to get to the other side healthy. I cannot walk around it or remain stagnant on this side of it.

Lately, it is the silence which torments me the most. The silence is when the grief takes over. One of the emotions I try to ignore is loneliness. God has given me some insights the past few weeks since Grief Share began.  

So, first, Brad. Why am I mourning him like a widow when we’ve been divorced for almost ten years? It is because I never mourned his loss. Another thing from the video. It takes a long time for our hearts to catch up to our heads. My head fully knew, understood, and embraced the divorce and why we divorced. It makes sense. I created the narrative around our divorce, and it worked for me . . . Until it didn’t.

During class, we are encouraged to show pictures of our loved ones. I found the picture I wanted to show. It’s a picture of happier days. Brad is laying on the couch snuggled with Bailey as a puppy. We were living in the carriage house by the campus in Nashville. He was wearing a Trick Pony shirt. I loved that carriage house. We both had jobs we loved. We now had Bailey. All seemed right in the world. I LOVED that Brad. He used to say everyone loves “fat Brad.” I used to give him a hard time about it, but he was right. Translation – everyone loved depressed Brad, but no one wanted to be around manic Brad. I didn’t see it then, but looking at the picture now, I see the sadness in his eyes. I have noticed an increasing sadness the past two years, but now I see that the sadness has always been there.

Still, I LOVED that Brad, that life, that couple. Brad – MY Brad – died long before we got divorced and I never mourned the loss of that Brad – that life. I simply reasoned it out. As my counselor says, I clung to the bad and forgot all the good – until he died. Now, the good came flooding back and now that he is physically gone, I am beginning to grieve MY Brad, whom I lost more than ten years ago.

I look at pictures of Brad from the past two years, and I don’t like that guy much, but I look at photos from our good days, and I still love that man. I miss him deeply. That Brad is one of the reasons I never moved on romantically. I never grieved him – the love we lost. I am grieving him now.

The man I had a crush on for the past few years – how can feelings I had for several years vanish just like that? I am coming to believe that I was never really in love with him, the man, but rather, what he stood for. He was also divorced, and his story was somewhat similar to mine. However, he did all the things I prayed Brad would do. I so desperately wanted Brad to choose me over his demons, but he wouldn’t. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he thought it was impossible, so impossible that he wouldn’t even try. For him, sobriety was always a temporary thing, but once he dried out, he always started drinking again, and usually more.

I wasn’t in love with the man so much as I was in love with the choices he made. I was in a way envious and in another way, hopeful. I was envious that he loved his wife enough to see his own faults, forgive hers, and want to do whatever it took to fix them. When it became clear that it could not be fixed, he still worked on bettering himself. I was hopeful because it showed me another version of men. Before I heard his story, I compared all men to Brad and I had wrongly assumed that all men were sexually driven and lacking in real depth of emotion. This man showed me a different side to the male gender and it gave me hope for Brad and for any future I could have in the romantic department.

When Brad died, hope for Brad’s healing died. I think I was clinging on to the hope that Brad would eventually “get it.” Even though he was remarried, and my Brad was never coming back, there was still hope that he could get better and be better for his new wife and his family. When he died, hope for this died, too. And when hope for Brad died, my tie between Brad and this other man was severed. Without that hope, there was no need for my heart to cling to what this other man had to offer. Emotions are a strange and complicated thing.

The other reason I never moved on and started dating after divorce: Post Brad and one brief, almost love affair about a year after the divorce and pre-cancer, I told people that I did not believe in sex outside of marriage. My actions did not previously reflect this, and I didn’t really believe this, but it sounded good and was a good and safe reason not to date. If I don’t believe in sex outside of marriage and if I will never get married again, what’s the point in dating? That was my philosophy, and it worked for me – until now.

Now, I truly do believe – or rather, don’t believe – in sex outside of marriage. Now, this is not something I say simply to protect my heart, but it is a sincere and genuine value I hold. Now, though, my thoughts of marriage have shifted – slightly. Instead of “never” I say “I’m not sure that I want to.” Slight change, but not totally different. Right now, I’m still not sure about marriage, so the last part still holds “So, what’s the point?”

Since Brad died, I have been overcome with a new emotion – loneliness. I really don’t like it, but not enough to change my dating stance. Here’s the rub. Even if I did want to start dating, I have no clue what Christian dating looks like. Growing up, sex in a relationship was an eventual given. I was never promiscuous, but if in a committed relationship, even without the ring, sex was going to be a part of it. That’s just the way things were.

Now that I think and believe differently, what does that mean for dating? I think it would mean that I would have to go into a first date with a possible end in sight – marriage – and that terrifies the you-know-what out of me. And, since I do not want to think about marriage, I cannot even think about a first date.

Who would I even talk to about Christian dating? Could my church’s youth pastor inform me? But dating at 44 is much different than dating as a teenager. At least, as a teenager, they are most likely thinking of one day getting married and it is easier if you are already a virgin to remain a virgin. But me? With all this baggage? Then again, maybe it’s not all that different. Who knows? Not me. I have no reference with which to rely.

The fortunate thing about being in school again is that I really don’t have time to date. Granted, as a friend once told me, we make time for the things that really matter to us. So, if dating really mattered, I would make time. Thankfully, I am not that lonely and certainly not that eager to date that I would make time in my already crammed life. So, being in school buys me time to figure it all out.

In the meantime, I hold to what I have told people over and over again. If God wants someone in my life, He will drop that person in my lap. I will not go out looking.

Oh, then there’s the sex thing - the actual act and not just the thought. Let’s say I did start dating and met a man whom I would consider marrying. I have had an abundance of life changes since the last time I had sex – namely, cancer and a full hysterectomy – which physiologically changes functioning of the female body. What will sex be like? Will it hurt? Will I disappoint said man? Will he regret waiting for me? Ugh!!!

It’s not that these issues are just in theory.  

There was the friend who knew all my issues and said he would have given up sex for me if I would have just given him a chance. Had I believed him, we would probably be together right now. He was the best friend I ever had. But, even if he was sincere, I could never ask that of him or anyone, not when I have no clue when or if I will ever want to get married again. 

There is the coworker who recently asked me out. I did not say no, but I did not say yes. I was SO dumfounded and dumbstruck. He caught this and teased me. The flirting is still there, but no dating. Still, when I see him, my head goes there and it’s frightening. I’m thankful he pulled back and never called or pushed.

There is also the old boyfriend from 20+ years ago. We have not seen each other since I was 19, but we have stayed in contact. He would call every few years. Recently, he’s been calling every few weeks. I am thankful that we are separated by 1,000+ miles. Our conversations have gotten uncomfortable and I am not sure if it is a bad thing or simply my fear. Either way, I am very frank with him and feel free (because of the safety of distance) to ask him the pointed questions and be extremely honest and open with him. (He and I never had sex.) Still, talking to him has made me uncomfortable because I feel things I do not want to feel. It’s all just too much for me.

I don’t want to go any further right now. This topic makes me uncomfortable and I’ve already uncovered so much already. We’ll save that one for a later day. For now, I’ll let that one percolate.

Sometimes I wonder why things have to be so complicated – and why now. Why did Brad’s death bring up so much seemingly out-of-the-blue stuff? Then again, we are all – even those of us who feel secure in Christ – still human, and with our humanity comes all this junk. It is ours to navigate through just like anyone else. The benefit of being in Christ, though, is that we are not left to navigate alone. He is always by our side.

As I type, I look up and I see the pictures I taped on the wall – one of a recent trip with my girlfriends at the beach in Oregon by the waterfall and the other of the Abbey of Gethsemane. One – a reminder of friendship, that I am not alone. I may feel lonely, but I am not alone. I have good friends, so this dating thing does not have to be an issue for me – not now – and when I need them, they are there for me. I can take my Christian dating questions to them. I haven’t had girlfriends since childhood. Now, I have these girls. I also have my NTS cohort girls. I am blessed.

Gethsemane. What memories of my times there -the many things God showed me and taught me. The peace. The quiet. The solitude. I miss those retreats. Right now, that solitude would overwhelm me. Still, I would love to spend a week there right now. I wonder what He would show me. I think of making a trip there, and then I remember that the old boyfriend lives relatively close by. Would I tell him? If I went today, probably not. I’m afraid of what would happen. At least right now, we have the safety of distance. And that has enough issues which we will not address now.