*This post is an entry in the 2nd Stratejoy Essay Contest.  Throughout the next month, we will be featuring each finalist writing their answer to the question: What would your TED Talk Be? On September 13th, we will open the voting to YOU, our community, to select the winner of the $500 prize.*

*It is Well With My Soul.*

I was twelve years old when I first swore off sex. A friend and I had spent the afternoon reading Babysitters Club books when her mother interrupted and shipped us off to youth group. When we arrived, we were forced to watch a video starring some Kirk Cameron-like individual who went on and on about the evils of sex. Though I barely knew what sex was at the time, when the youth leader shoved a contract in my face stating I would not have sex until I got married, I signed it.  Kirk really scared me and everyone else was signing it. So why not?

Between then and now I’ve had the opportunity numerous times to give in to what my mother likes to call “the heat of the moment.” In dating, I’ve certainly experienced the inconvenience of my virginity. Disclosing the fact too early either scared men away or caused them to view me as a conquest.  Disclosing later on meant putting off the truth for an agonizing period of time. Indeed, virginity was becoming a drag – in more ways than one.

I’ve also become some sort of heroine for women who wish they had the “strength” to wait, but personally chose not to. When these women periodically confirm my virginity status, they smile at me like I’m a four year old who’s completed an art project.  If I even suggest a desire to not wait, they immediately throw in their two cents, barely allowing me to get a word in about how I feel about my own situation.  Though their intentions are pure, it’s been a lot to not disappoint my friends, not disappoint God, reject men who expect sex by the third date, and control my urges.  It’s been hard focusing on what’s right for me.

Even so, I’m still a virgin and under unique circumstances too. I currently live with my boyfriend of a year and we have not yet done the deed. In the beginning, I thought I was going to give it up at any moment. Things were HOT and I wanted for him to leave no corner of my twenty-six year old body unturned.  But with each birth control pill I popped, the reality of losing my virginity began to set in.  Nothing I would say to myself made it feel right. After experiencing a month of cognitive dissonance, I accepted the fact that what’s right for me is that I wait until I’m married to have sex.

But you know what? That’s okay. I’m allowed to determine what makes me comfortable within my relationships and grow close with those who respect my decisions.  In fact, I believe this so much that my life mission is to encourage women to do the same.  We may be told differently, but we’re entitled to healthy relationships.  We call the shots about who reaps the benefits of our hearts, our minds, and our bodies. We owe no one justification for these decisions, because while presenting our defense, we may lose sight of our sense of what’s right for us.  And what’s healthy.

I press towards the day when no woman halts her quest for healthy relationships based on what’s “normal.” If normal doesn’t feel right, why not dare to be unconventional? People told me living with the man I love and trying to stay a virgin would never work. Others told me I’m sinning.  Well, screw them. Screw people who try to distract you from doing what’s right and healthy for you!  You deserve as much love as you can get, as long as it’s the right kind of love – the kind that sits well with your soul. Lean on those who encourage you, those who love you right, challenge you, and then love you right some more.  Commit yourself to doing this. I can’t imagine you’ll regret it.

And so, I continue my sex-less life with my live-in boyfriend and our mischevious dog in the City of Champions.  I remind myself often that whatever sexual frustration I’m experiencing now is totally worth the feeling of being true to myself.  I confirm my virginity status with friends who ask,  emphasizing the need for no comparison to be made between my life and theirs. I use any conversation with another female as an opportunity to encourage her to make right and healthy decisions for herself, especially regarding her relationships. I brainstorm ways I can do this more formally in the future, so I can live out what I believe to be my calling.  And lastly, I remind myself frequently that any pursuit of healthy relationships must first begin with a healthy relationship with myself.

Who knew swearing off sex as a twelve year old could inspire such a movement?

*ABOUT AKIRAH*

Akirah valued comfort so much that she stayed in an unhealthy relationship for four years. One night she found herself pushed against a wall (literally and figuratively) and decided that maybe comfort is overrated. Now she’s healing by writing a memoir about her abuse and working with women facing similar situations. Akirah, 27, lives in Pittsburgh where her handsome Chef Boy cooks, their dog chews underwear, and she writes and smiles. She also tweets and blogs.