on sex, or rather, not having sex

First, the warning: Serious adult themes ahead. Be aware.

Next, the disclaimer: This post is about a book I'm reading and how it's changing my approach to sex, or rather, (as per the title) my approach to not having sex. My opinions may not be your opinions and that's okay. I hope we can share a mutual love and respect anyways.

Now, for the good stuff.

Having grown up in the evangelical Christian world, and having spent the previous 4 years at Wheaton College, that bastion of evangelical higher learning, it should not be a surprise that I have decided to save sex for marriage. I have not, however, kissed dating goodbye. I have more or less "frenched dating hello," as the joke at Wheaton went.

Right, so that's part of my life. I chose the abstinence route and have found it empty and dissatisfying. There has to be a better, more consequential, less teenaged way to describe the commitment I am now choosing to make. I'm drawing a line in the sand right now, at age 22. I just don't know what to call either side of the line, and I feel like I need to identify it clearly as I step.

There's your background. Here's the book: Singled Out: Why Celibacy Must Be Reinvented in Today's Church. The co-authors are both unmarried women, one of whom was actually a brilliant professor of mine at Wheaton (for the record, I worked harder but learned more in her classes than any other!).

This book has helped me define either side of my sand line: Abstinence and Celibacy. I don't mean to say this is what the book says. I mean to say this is a personal conviction to which the book has helped me arrive.

It's like this. What is the chorus of abstinence-promoters? "Wait." Which I will do, of course. But that punch line is predicated on the idea that something is coming next. Namely, marriage. And what's a Christian girl to do when marriage comes later than she expected? Or never comes at all?

The answer then, as I see it, is celibacy. Ah, yes, the term previously reserved for ascetics and that most holy calling of marriage to Christ. ONLY NOT. Celibacy is the new abstinence, people! We're talking everybody from Lutherans and Agnostics and Non-denominationalists and Catholics to those rebels who simply counter our sex-crazed culture are jumping on the bandwagon.

Celibacy (and this idea does come from the book) is a personal commitment you make in the face of the general attitude of life around you. Abstinence is an outward statement, i.e. sign your pledge card, and celibacy is a more mature, internal conviction.

The thing about either short-term or long-term celibacy is that it doesn't really have a place in the evangelical church at the moment. That section of the Church universal is mostly family-oriented. Which is fine, except if you're a middle-age single Christian. Then it could be difficult to truly connect with a group of believers who are, by and large, married with kids. Which is why things need to change.

Personally, I want to be counter-cultural. I enjoy bucking the system (she writes, from her flat in the middle of Nigeria on a laptop running on battery because there's no electricity, ignoring her itchy palms that may or may not be a symptom of tapeworm). See? I like bucking the system. And the "system" I've grown up in uses sex as the primary advertising tool.

Wouldn't I just be the worst consumer in the world if a product's sex appeal did not appeal to me because I was not motivated by sex? What a way to mess with economics. What a way to buck the system!

Celibacy is going to change the face of sexual purity. It's a conscious choice I make, not an unfortunate set of circumstances that has befallen me because I am unmarried. Celibacy is more than just waiting for what comes next. It's not waiting at all. You see, the place I am (which one could call "singlehood") actually has something beneficial to teach me, and if I limit myself to just waiting, or am more focused on what comes next, I might just miss the lesson I have to learn right here, right now.

That lesson, it seems, is that as a single Christian woman, I have a divine, integral purpose in the Body of Christ. My sexuality is a God-given part of me, yes, but it does not make me who I am (i.e. single vs. married or virgin vs. sexually active). Whether or not I get married, whether or not I raise children, whether or not I have sex, I am purposed. As I make the transition from abstinence to celibacy, I may slip up: I may lose my focus on the place I am by looking ahead or by "just waiting". But I don't want to lose sight of that bigger calling, ever. As I stand on the Celibacy side of the line, I need the Body of Christ to support me while I support the Body of Christ.

Bottom line: Read the book. Draw a line in the sand. And if you cross over, let me know. You won't be standing alone.

Shock and Awe minus the Awe

If last week's post on Nigerian attitudes towards sex was "adults-only," this one is even moreso. Parents, moderate your children's internet usage....starting now.

Obviously I wasn't in the States last night to enjoy the AMAs (American Music Awards), but I checked out pictures and news reports today...and I am pretty shocked, to say the least.

For those of you who missed it, Adam Lambert (American Idol Season 9 runnerup) gave ABC a run for it's edit-this-quick-before-it-goes-live-on-the-West-Coast money.

I didn't watch the video, but the pictures and news reports suggest that Lambert channeled some S&M in his black leather costume, simulated oral sex with a dancer wearing a harness, grabbed his own crotch several times, flipped off the audience, and, in a burst of what can only be interpreted as rating-mongering, forcefully kissed the male keyboardist in the middle of the song.

And it happened on prime time television.

His response? "It's all for a laugh...it's really not that big of a deal."

Um, I'll respectfully disagree. It is most certainly a big deal.

I am pretty disgusted with the on-screen behavior, and, news flash: it's not because he's gay. All homosexual overtones aside, what Adam Lambert does in the privacy of Adam Lambert's home is none of my business because I'm not Adam Lambert.
But, Adam, my dear, you just MADE it my business because you did it on prime time television for millions (hundreds of thousands?) of people to see, including children. It's the not-having-a-choice-in-the-matter that disturbs me.

My second point of contention with Mr. Lambert is his claim of a double standard in the industry:

"Female pop artists have been doing things provocative like that for years, and the fact that I'm a male, and I'll be edited and discriminated against could be a problem."

Um, I'll disagree again.

Which came first: Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction, or Britney Spears' and Madonna's kiss? (Oh how far we've come from the chicken and the egg...) Chronology doesn't matter; I was just as repulsed by these provocative actions from women in the industry. Again, it was the unedited, shock value, let's-boost-the-ratings attitude behind each event that unnerved me.

In a moment of confession, I really like Lambert as a musical entity. I find him a very captivating entertainer. I liked watching him on American Idol, and I was proud of his Broadway roots in the Wicked cast. I'm even fascinated by the guyliner and faux-hawk.

But really...thrusting into some guy's face? Nobody wants to see that at the AMAs. Stick to music, please.



I apologize that this update has absolutely nothing to do with Nigeria. Sometimes news from the States is more interesting than my life in West Africa.

The Birds and the Bees

Heads up! Today's update is a frank look at Nigeria's cultural attitudes towards sex. Younger readers, redirect your browsers now. :)

I unwittingly entered into a discussion about sex today with a fellow teacher. It was one of those kinds of conversations that completely broadsides you and makes you say How did we get here?--one that I consequently couldn't escape. So, since I couldn't back out, I stepped up. And I learned a lot about Nigeria's general attitude towards sex. Some of it was shocking, and most of it was saddening.

Mr. L works in the science lab at school. He's 25, and the coworker closest in age to mine. We've become friends, but in that culture-clash way where I still occasionally leave our conversations confused about what just happened. Please factor that element into today's story. This bature still doesn't understand Nigerian humor. Or their idea of water-cooler conversation.

He told me the story of last weekend, in which he traveled to visit a relative, which happens all the time for Nigerians with family outside of Abuja. When he arrived, he found a woman staying in his uncle's house (again, not out of the ordinary, since most Nigerians are very generous). His uncle also decided to travel, leaving Mr. L alone in the house with the woman.

One can piece the story together from there, but the crucial detail is that Mr. L denied any fault. He says she made herself available to him and his actual words were: "Well, you know, I'm a man and I can't help myself."

Oh, how grieved I was to hear this. Unfortunately, it's not the first time, either. It seems that in Nigerian culture--and even in the Church--sons are raised believing that "boys will be boys" and are therefore not held accountable for their sexual actions. I have heard many stories of Nigerian men being unfaithful to their wives, and I don't know what makes me sadder: that men think this is normal behavior, or that their wives think this is normal behavior.

Back to the story, though...

Mr. L then asked me what I thought about his story. Baffled, I asked him if he felt any regret over his actions. He said he did indeed feel guilty. I advised him to never let something like this happen again, and to definitely not return to his uncle's while the woman was there. He agreed that that was good advice.

I asked if he had a girlfriend (he alluded to one in a conversation last week), but he said no. I bridged the cultural gap by explaining to him that where I come from, we would call that cheating, and it would be grounds for the woman to leave the man. Mr. L actually laughed at the thought. In Nigeria, it all depends on the woman, he told me. As long as the man still makes time for the girlfriend, most women (in his estimation) don't care who their men are sleeping with.

But really, what does one say to that?

In a society so touched by Islam--a religion which allows a man to take 4 wives "as long as he loves them equally," and to divorce them by saying the words "I divorce you" on 3 separate occasions--I find Mr. L's story a drop in the bucket. This is the one point of cultural diversity I have tried to "appreciate" but cannot. I draw the line at a cultural practice which encourages men to dishonor their women by breaking the marriage covenant and which teaches women that their right to be cherished by one man is subservient to his sexual impluses. If for no other reason, the fact that this principle is so culturally ingrained in Nigerian men will be the reason I would not marry a Nigerian man (and oh, how it has been overtly suggested to me).

On a religious note, the standard is supposed to be different amongst Nigerian Christians. It's supposed to be, but often isn't. I heard recently the story of a woman who discovered that her husband, a pastor, just fathered a child by another woman. What do you with a situation like that?

Don't even get me started on the double standard between male infidelity and female infidelity. I'll give you a hint: in one scenario, no action is required, and in the other, public shaming and scornful divorce is the consequence.