Wait, Didn’t You Become A Nun?!

My post about being asexual confused some of my followers last year…

Note: This post has been recently edited to reflect the changes in plans that occured.

May through July 2020 were fun on my social media. First, someone who followed me as a “friend” accused me in angry tones that they thought I had devoted my life to God as a nun and I was a disappointment! Then, I came across a social media post sharing of my recording a Podcast with Listen, Learn and Love’s Richard “Papa” Ostler. Both of those incidents reminded me to update my readers about the current events in my life!

As many of you may know, I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have another blog, where I share my Testimony, at Sister Maggie. I have already shared a bit of the news there, and I even had a guest writer post last week! And if you follow my social media, on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, you will have definitely have been updated. In fact, IF you follow my Pinterest, you might have noticed a new board has been added!

By March 9th, I was in full lock-down mode with signs on both of my doors, only allowing isolated caregivers in. I remained this way, observing the shut-down orders tightly for over 40 days. On the 41st day of isolation, April 21, I posted in a church-oriented single’s group and subsequently began talking with a man.

I started to share the fact that I had “met a boy” on a thread curated by a friend of mine to encourage creative writing. I even embellished my comment with emojis, attempting to share the fact that I was utterly perplexed by the meeting and the subsequent feelings.

We began talking every day. Soon we were reading scriptures together every evening before retiring for bed. After we spent a fair amount of time learning about one another’s faith in God, assuring ourselves that we each would put God first in any relationship, a man asked me (and my dogs) out on a date.

That date would turn out to be an adventure at a local lake. We caught one another in photos, then turned our attention to the dogs fighting over a stick in the lake. After hours of conversation, we snapped a selfie together. I knew then my life would never be the same.

We teased one another as we discussed the fact I had felt a quiet impression to delete political posts off of my social media. I shared with him that I had hesitated, even taking a moment to draft a politically-geared poem, but finally relented to the better Spirit, deleting the shares off of my main pages. Although we were currently in the midst of one of the most politically-charged times of my lifetime, God was telling me not to allow contention to get in the way of my future. In spite of that feeling, it almost did!

He and I do not agree on some of our politics. I will note, we do agree on many critical points. However, when he first was interested in something I posted regarding my faith, he had been turned away in offense. Fortunately for me, by the time he looked again, I had listened to that still, small voice and deleted the controversial post. I have been rewarded with a love based in God and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I am a strong believer in Jesus Christ. I am a Christian. However, I find it interesting that some of my followers had taken my asexuality following my divorce as a sign that I was planning to serve God as a type of a nun or monk. Let me be clear, that was never my intention. My faith’s tenets are quite clear and I live by them.

My last marriage ended quite traumatically. When it ended, I found myself in prayer in the Temple, asking God to remove all temptations from me. Not only from me, but I asked God to remove any way I could be a temptress to another. I begged God with tears in my eyes to make me ugly. For over half a century of my life, I had been sexually attractive to someone. I just wanted that part to stop. I just wanted someone to see the daughter of God that I was, and not a piece of meat to use.

So, I prayed. I continued to pray.

In the years following those prayers, I gained an more than half again my body’s weight following an antibiotic injury. While going through intensive therapy mentally and physically, I have learned how to advocate better for myself. I gradually began to change my eating habits, learning what ingredients caused inflammation to explode in my body. The weight began to fall off.

But the antibiotic injury had left me using a power chair. Talk about humbling. I didn’t worry that anyone would look at me in any other way but a grandma once I sat down.

I have stated that trauma and sexuality are as interwoven as a fine gaberdine for my brain, and I stand by that description. When researching asexuality, I found that there was a designation or type on the “asexual spectrum” that described what I have experienced: Demisexual.

On the demisexuality.org website, they give an excellent explanation of something I have struggled define for others:

Most people on the non-asexual side of the spectrum feel sexual attraction regardless of whether or not they have a close emotional bond with someone. They may have sexual feelings for attractive people on the street, classmates or coworkers they’ve barely spoken to, or celebrities. However, they may choose to wait to have sex for a variety of reasons: it might not be feasible or appropriate, they want to make sure the person is respectful and kind, it’s against their religious beliefs, they only want to have sex in a romantic relationship, etc. The difference is that demisexuals don’t start out with these sexual feelings at all.

When I fell in love, I will say that God privately confirmed to me that everything will be 100% good-to-go when we are married. But it wasn’t until the young man asked me to marry him that those feelings began to ignite for me.

Had I prayed myself into being asexual? Was it a result of trauma? Perhaps none of the answers will ever be known. I do know that although I am chaste, that I am practicing my religion and keeping my covenants with God by being completely without sexual activity before marriage, when my fiance kissed me (closed mouth only until we are married–by my request!), all of the buttons are pushed. I’ve no doubt we are as compatible as Adam and Eve.

But what is important in a marriage? Is it sex? Is it politics?

If my grandparents are any test, politics can be just as much of a source of humor if it is different between the members of the couple. When it comes to sex, if both partners love and care about one another, whatever is meant to be will work out.

So, what does that leave?

When we agreed to get married, he and I stated that the first, last and best part of our partnership is our service to our God.

I believe, as our church teaches, it is only within the bonds of a temple marriage that we can serve God and grow to become the best servants of His Word and His Gospel that we can be. It is only together that we can magnify all of our callings on Earth.

I was anxious and excited to begin.

Then, it happened. Without meaning to, I offended my him. It wasn’t my politics or my lack of desire for sex. I thought it was my dependence on mobility aids. It was my disability.

Given a bit of further information, I have been broken hearted even further to understand it was more of a lack of communication. Something that seemed to mark our entire, very short relationship.

The engagement was called off. I was left looking at a date on the calendar when I was scheduled to become one with another person, empty. I am left to wonder if everything happened too quickly, or if so many things had been different, would the end result be the same?

I am currently re-evaluating my need for an eternal missionary companion. Some missions may be better off completed alone. I appreciate your prayers and space at this time.

May your life be full of Love and Lighte.


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