My conscience lives, and he’s always told me to stop chasing these cheap thrills . . . late nights and early mornings with guys I only wanted physically. I spent night after night with men, some I knew and some I was merely acquainted. There came a time when it truly started to wear on me. Love? No, I didn’t want that until my lustful thoughts and actions were no longer fulfilling to the ever growing void I never recognized I had. I didn’t understand why my soul grew more and more dry and brittle. You know, in church they preach that you should say no to sex before marriage, but the why is never explained. They tell you not to do it, and they act as if they don’t themselves. As damaging as it is, no one ever thinks to grab you by the hand to illustrate the emotional suicide.
I’m going to tell you a story in which I had the leading role. It’s started with my boyfriend at thirteen. He was all I wanted. We dated for a year, and I just knew he would be the one I’d spend the rest of my life with. I was madly in love, and no one could tell me differently. We finally took the step I thought was needed. In no time, he left me for this blonde thing whom I thought was my friend; she lived down the street from me. The heartbreak was indescribable, and most people would say, “You’re thirteen, and you don’t know love at thirteen. You’ll be okay.” It was more than that, and I hold true to that to this day. After that, I began to view having sex as the norm. My parents didn’t know; I think perhaps they were naive. I had six partners by the time I was sixteen. That number skyrocketed as I made my way through college, but that’s when I rewired my mind to function like the guys. Let’s do it, no strings attached . . . that’s until there were situations in which I thought our night caps could become more. I would picture life with some of them, even though there was no substance. It was normally just based on a sexual high. The sexual high that clouds your mind from seeing anything clear is what makes you think you’re in love. Even if you no your love interest is a jerk. You lose your mind when you see him converse with someone who could potentially be the next you. It doesn’t help matters when you know he’s not officially yours.
It gets tricky when you spend time with the person outside of the bedroom. You begin to think it’s something more than just friends with benefits. You are certain it’s more than that. He tells you nice things and does things for you too. In your mind, you’re saying he wouldn’t do these things if he didn’t feel something too. Sad to say, he’s still in the mind frame of just smashing you. It’s rare that friends with benefits becomes more. It got to the point that my body wanted certain people in certain ways that once it was fulfilled, I just laid there in a daze feeling disgusted and torn. It was just cheap thrills and dry bones, but there had to be more to life.
I told myself that something had to change. One day in church, when someone spoke of dry bones, they were the perfect words to describe how I felt back then. He said, “I’m going to put breath in you, and make you live again (Ezekiel 37:5).” The love I yearned for wasn’t from a man and his sexual pleasures; it was God who waited patiently for me to wake up and see there is more to life than cheap thrills and dry bones. He held on to me for this long so very tightly. You may be in something similar. You can get through it; he’s just waiting for your hand.