What my Purity Ring Taught Me

I was sexually abused by an older child at the age of eleven. The details are fuzzy, but they're not important. The important part is that it happened, and although I did not understand what had happened to me, I knew it was wrong and felt ashamed. I kept that secret for a decade before beginning the slow process of telling some friends, and eventually family members.

It's safe to say I was a fairly sexually ignorant kid for a long time. No joke, I was 13 before I learned the meaning of the word "virgin" and that it did not apply only to Mary. By the time I understood what virginity was, mine was gone. Imagine the compounding effect that had on my sense of shame.

So, I kept the secret.

It ate at my insides, but I kept it.

There's no way to predict how childhood sexual abuse will affect any given child. Some children will become hypersexualized and eventually promiscuous. At the other end of the spectrum are those who are terrified of anything even remotely sexual. I fell somewhere in the middle. My play became sexualized - let's just say Barbie and Ken were spending an awful lot of time sans clothing - and as I grew into my teen years I struggled continually with lust. But, I also had a bit of a fear of the opposite sex and would generally fall hard for guys who were way out of my league, while pushing away any guy who showed interest in me.

Then there was my involvement in youth group, at the height of the purity movement. At least a couple times a year we'd get a "purity talk" in youth group, and at the big youth conferences, too. I've got to be clear that this wasn't being forced down my throat; I loved those talks, and I read every book on purity I could get my hands on. The message I got through all of this is that I needed to guard my purity (read: virginity) at all costs. Well, I wasn't a virgin, but they had that covered, too. I could have a spiritual virginity, or something like that.

I had a sincere desire, even at a young age, to please God. So, I took my desire to please God, and I took all the things I heard in youth group and read in these books on purity, and I set strict rules for myself out of fear that I would mess up and tarnish my purity. I made a long list of dating do's and don'ts, and I decided I was not going to kiss anyone until my wedding day, because I couldn't trust myself not to "go too far." Oh, and I started wearing a purity ring - but I think you knew that from the title.

I actually had two different rings when I was in high school. The first one was silver with little gems in the shape of a flower, and the second was just a silver band with "purity" stamped into it. Those aren't important details. What was important about those rings was that I was wearing them because it was what Christian girls did when I was in high school.

At some point, early on in college, I noticed how pretty my friend Lauren's ring was, and decided to get one like hers. This is the important ring. The one God used to teach me a big lesson. The one I cherish.  The ring is called the "gift-wrapped heart." I know from reading the little card that came with the ring that the designer intended it to symbolize a commitment for girls to save their hearts (and virtue) for their husbands. This is a good and noble thing, but it is also something that always felt like a bit of a sham for me, or at least like it wasn't completely possible. Not only was I not a virgin but I also had this intense, out of control struggle with impure thoughts, and I knew what Jesus had to say about that.

One day I was looking at this ring on my finger, and suddenly it dawned on me that maybe this heart wasn't gift-wrapped for my husband. Maybe it was gift-wrapped for me. I began to think about God's mercy and grace, and it was as if the Holy Spirit whispered in my ear "I have given you a new heart." I began to realize that my purity was not something to earn back or keep; I was not born pure. I was born a sinner. I am pure, not because of what I have or have not done, but because Christ has said so.

I won't lie to you. Lust is still a struggle. Shame still creeps in. But, they do not consume me, nor do they define me. I am not ashamed. There is little visible difference in how I practice purity, but the motivation is completely changed. I obey not so that I can be pure, but because I am pure.