What’s more, I’m an obnoxiously picky person who avoids letting go of control, being vulnerable and making mistakes at all costs — a by-the-book Type-A perfectionist.The longer I go without sex, the more build-up there is: the more anxiety and curiosity, fear and desire, anticipation and uncertainty.Some play it cool while calculating how to coerce me into changing my mind.
I believe wholeheartedly that sex and love should coexist.
In fact, I believe they need to coexist; that without love, sex is just a Band-Aid fix for something that should be addressed with words rather than walks of shame.
The most serious contender waited until I was so smitten with him that I would break plans, skip class, call in sick — whatever — to drive hours to visit him, and then dumped me, saying it “just wasn’t a good time for him.”Another reason sex didn’t factor into my coming-of-age years is that I’m a Christian.
Not a Bible-thumping, the-world-is-going-to-hell-in-a-handbasket Christian, but a (sexually) conservative, Bible-believing, traditionally raised Minnesota Lutheran girl who was taught that sex is for marriage and that’s that.
We were making out on my couch when he went to unbutton my jeans — which was about seven steps beyond what I was ready for, and my body language told him as much.