Wait... what?! No sex?!

“Wait… what?! That’s it?! No sex?” I mumbled in disbelief after a guy I was attracted to wine-and-dined me. It was our first time to hang out. I was in my early 20s with a really distorted view on dating and relationships. It’s funny because I have fooled myself into believing that I was on the search of a good man—someone who respects me, someone who values me, someone who prioritizes me. Yet, there I was, yearning for him to touch me inappropriately, like it was the ultimate validation of my womanhood and existence, at least in that moment.

I had deceived myself into thinking that I wanted a good man, when in reality, as ugly as it sounds, I wanted an uninterested boy who would use me, devalue me, and disrespect me, someone I had to convince to like me, to choose me. I had projected an illusion that I wanted a good thing, when in my life, it just didn’t add up. There was a big disconnect. Back then, when good men treated me right and respected me enough to not cross the line, I manipulated situations so I could make them want to have sex with me. I would conjure arousal so they would want me physically. On the contrary, I threw myself at the most apathetic boys, dangled my body over them as bait, and more often than not, after we do the deed, they spat me back out like a chewed, tasteless piece of gum. No cuddling, no kissing, no hugging. They’d zip up their pants and turn the lights back on.

In hindsight, sex was just the symptom, although ironically, I used it to cure the huge gaping hole in my soul. I longed for connection but sought for it in all the wrong places. It was like putting a band-aid over a flat tire. No matter how many I stuck, it just wouldn’t solve the problem. Sex wasn’t the root of the disease. I slept around so much because something uglier was brewing beneath the surface, and it took me years to muster up the courage to decide to face this monster. I often told myself that I’d stop hooking up because more often than not, it made me feel worse about myself even after I put on my Russian Red Mac lipstick and sky-high heels and go for another “hunting” weekend. Apart from Jesus, I just couldn’t stop this sick habit that made me run around an exhausting cycle.

Truth is, I had rejection issues. That was it. When the guy who wine-and-dined me didn’t make a move on me, I took it as rejection. It made me feel bad about myself. Seriously. I knew I had to confront this demon because I was getting sick of my “I-didn’t-have-a-daddy-growing-up” excuse. Sure, it was definitely a heavy factor with a lot of my internal battles, but damn, I either had to choose to woman up or remain immobile in this pathetic bubble.

When I finally took a deep breath, lifted the curtain, and turned on my flashlight of self-discovery, I saw the monster leeching off my spirit. My monster was the deficit of my self-worth. It was not knowing my value in Christ. In a sick and twisted way, I yearned for rejection because that’s what my father showed me (I am no longer blaming him, I’m just saying it as it is. I love my dad, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure he also has painful reasons why our relationship has become this way, although I'm keeping my faith in my heavenly Father for He is the ultimate restorer of all relationships.).

No one taught me how to be respected and valued by God’s standards, so I didn’t know how to receive it, let alone demand it. In my early 20s, showing me love meant taking me out for drinks, using my body, and ghosting me later on.

I thank God for grace.

As my personal relationship with Jesus began to and blossomed, the more I learned about His design and purpose for things. Now, in all honesty, my heart’s desire is for God to bless my life with a good man, a genuinely, godly man after His own heart, should He will the covenant of marriage for me. Now I know that part of loving is waiting, and respecting not just each other’s bodies, but also each other’s dignity. Now I know that dating should have clarity and direction, just as God gifted marriage with romance and intimacy. By God’s faithfulness in my life, I have allowed him to permeate into the areas of disbelief and doubt, and show me that His design is always the best way.

There are still challenging moments in my life where I am tempted to use my body as a means to get a man’s attention, but God is quick to remind me that what truly matters is my heart. 1 Samuel 16:17b states, “The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”

 On the other hand, I now know that my soul is meant to be filled by my God and His satisfying love, not the shallow, selfish, and false sense of love this world highlights and glamourizes today. As Proverbs 27:7 says, “A person who is full refuses honey, but even bitter food tastes sweet to the hungry.” I want to be so full in God’s affections that I no longer get tempted to pick up the crumbs offered by boys who are also hungry themselves.

I am still a work in process. I’ve spent a huge chunk of my life believing that the worth of a woman is in the currency of her body and in the way a man desires her. The only Truth I clung on to as I untangled myself from this lie is found in Proverbs 3:15: "She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her."

I am valued. I am treasured. I am already deeply loved—by the King of the universe, no less.

I may have allowed boys to use me in order to feel validated in the past, but right now, I want nothing else but to be used by my God, because I already am validated.



 Kay God na lang ako papagamit, bestiny,
—D