The 34-Year-Old Virgin

Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve wanted to have sex. But for one reason or another, I never have. Whether it was my own resolve to remain abstinent (less likely) or God providentially keeping me from making that mistake (more likely), it was a teenage fantasy that never materialized even in adulthood.

This might be hard to believe for some who know me. There was a time recently when I was trained to be a pickup artist. After the mid-2000’s, I was certainly capable of meeting and attracting women. And I often did – on my own, or in groups of like-minded men. Prior to that time, I had the nerve, but not the game (not at all, as other friends can attest to).

One or two years ago, at the height of my pickup days, I would have been totally embarrassed to admit that I was still a virgin. But not today. I’m neither proud, nor embarrassed of the fact – though I am tremendously relieved. Relieved that I have never gone far enough in any previous relationship to lose the “V” label.

Previous girlfriends wanted to have sex at times when I was determined not to. When I was willing, the girl wasn’t. Etcetera. Even during my pickup days, I wasn’t interested in having sex. I wanted to simply improve my social skills and get over the fear of talking to strangers. It was all a lesson in social dynamics for me, not a shortcut to sex.

Now that I’m engaged and two days away from my wedding, I’m so thankful to God for keeping me from this particular sexual sin. Never in my marriage with Megan will I be able to compare her to other women from my past. I imagine that’s an important ingredient in a happy marriage.

Many gifts will be given on Saturday. But for me, there’s no greater gift I can give my wife on our wedding day than my sexual purity.

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