"You know, I’m kinda strange. It’s been over a year since I've talked directly and individually with a teenage guy, excepting the time I found out Greg S----’s name."The result, of course, was that I obsessed for weeks anytime a boy at church smiled a greeting in the hall or said "good night" before heading to the parking lot.
I would go home and study passages about "holiness" and make lists of things I thought God wanted me to do to remain "pure", such as:
- keep my knees covered
- wear only necklaces with short chains
- wear sleeves to my elbows
- "use lace sparingly"
Then I would weep the next week because I saw a guy from the youth group wearing an earring.
I was so lonely.
So confused.
And so obsessed with not acknowledging my sexuality, even to myself.
I knew a young lady who recalled an experience she had while getting a lesser degree at a college, after she had been homeschooled and isolated her entire childhood. She was seated alone in the college cafeteria or common area, having lunch or a drink or what-have-you, and a young man came and sat at her table. He seemed a nice fellow to her and not unattractive. He greeted her. She experienced genuine fear and without a word to the boy got up and walked away.
ReplyDeleteI remember also the fear I saw across her face anytime she asked her father a question or indeed any time she spoke to him at all. I don't doubt that she loved him, but it wasn't love I principally saw on her face, when she interacted with him. It was nervousness at its mildest moments.
Touching post.