Ten Men: The Privacy and Confessions of a Christian Woman Who Dates Too Much and the Hope of a Little Black Dress

This is a confession of a Christian woman who struggles with feeling she has dated too much. This is my guide in which making peace is en route, documented through numbering failed relationships, and the hope of a little black dress.

I have a lot to say, but I hate fluff. Here's my attempt to stay concise and clear, convicting and comforting those who read.

I have dated ten men.

I don't mean that I've had ten serious relationships, most of these were what millennials would call, "things." These ten men I have opened up to, listened to, revealed myself to, been known by, and spent time knowing. But that's the limit to my justifying or explaining my number.

Like most things, I believe you should know the motivation behind what you're doing and what you're thinking. Your privacy shouldn't be the exception. Here's what I've been learning. There are two motivations for privacy. First, you're private because you don't want to give details, be open, or vulnerable for the sake of the other party listening/reading. Maybe the details, the information, the content would harm the reader/listener. That is healthy and mature. I think privacy is a beautiful tool in gauging intimacy. We shouldn't open up about everything to everyone if it could hurt the listener or reader.

However, a person could be private because of shame. That's the second reason we are private. There is an amount of shame or embarrassment--beyond healthy conviction. The shame has turned and tempted you into isolation and created a pseudo, twisted sense of uniqueness. Yet, the Bible makes it pretty clear: we are not the only or first people to make the mistakes we make.

One of my favorite writers, Dave Eggers wrote a book, A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius. It is a creative non-fiction  piece about the death of his parents', the adoption of his brother, and the start of his literary magazine. He writes about the inner struggle every non-fiction writer faces: what information should I give my readers? Here's my favorite part of the book:

"I can afford to give you this. This does not break me. I give you virtually everything I have... We feel that to reveal embarrassing or private things...somehow makes one less of oneself. But it's just the opposite, more is more is more--more bleeding, more giving. These things, details, stories, whatever, are like the skin shed by snakes, who leave theirs for anyone to see. What does he care where it is, who sees it, this snake, and his skin? He leaves it where he molts... we come across a snake's long-shed skin, and we know something of the snake, we know that it's of this approximate girth and that approximate length, but we know very little else. Do we know where the snake is now?What the snake is thinking now? No."

When we share the details of our lives with others, we are afraid of judgment. But Eggers says that he can "afford" to give these stories to his readers because it is not him. Like a snake, it is apart of him, but it's not him, where he is now, where he is going.

Ten men. That's my relationship number. You can infer some things about me. You can guess who I am by that number, to a degree. You can know my approximate this and approximate that. Sure that number does say a few things about who I am.

I think often times, I am afraid of breaking down that privacy, to enter into vulnerability because maybe I would be found out, and maybe in that discovery, I would be seen for who I really am--too much, pathetic, unlovable.

Maybe, at the end of the day, I'm not those things. Maybe deep down, I am a snake shedding its skin. And those things aren't me, but things I've done and the mistakes I've made. Maybe I can afford to share my sins, my convictions, my shortcomings because they aren't me because His salvation and grace.

Or

Maybe, at the end of the day, I am those things. I am too much,  pathetic, and unlovable. Maybe those things are exactly who I am, but through grace and salvation, I can be called beloved.


Either way, I do know this: if finding a husband is not the point of living, and if human romance is not the purpose of life, then when I fail in finding a husband (dating), it shouldn't break me because it wasn't my Ultimate, my life source. I can openly admit to my ten, my dating, my innocent crushes, my messy breakups, my personal mistakes, etc. because I know this journey through dating isn't going to lead to my satisfaction, marriage or not.  I am already satisfied, fully made in Christ who loved me before I loved Him.

Some of you reading might think, so what? Ten guys, not a big deal. However, for somebody whose personality struggles with being known and understood, I find failing intimacy to be something quite tragic, and further, the thought and shame of investing and revealing so much of me to so many men (at least to me), is also embarrassing. However, I realize this might not resonate with you. I would challenge you to fill in your own blanks, "If _________ is not the point of living and if _______ is not the purpose of life, then when I fail________, it shouldn't break me."

If it breaks your identity, if it shatters who you are, it's valued too much.

In addition (trying to stay on topic but stick with me), there has to be something that fills that blank, and I'd argue finding it would be worth the searching because it will break you at the end.

So, here I am writing this blog after my boyfriend and I broke up. Roughly three months, and it seems like my relationships aren't lasting as long as they used to, and I'm very content with that. I know waiting for the sake of waiting, fighting to keep something together for the sake of keeping it together--really doing anything, for the sake of just doing it--can be stupid. Why stretch it seven months, a whole year, three years! etc. when you know you should break up after three months?  I'm not going to continue to date, fight, try, and hurt in a relationship that doesn't glorify God.

Finally, the hope of a little black dress.

When my past boyfriend and I were dating, he promised to take me on a fancy date. What that meant was, we would dress up and go to this very nice bar looking all spiffy and sexy. Being a tomboy teacher, I didn't have a lot of occasions for dressing up, and so I bought a little black dress. It was $14, but I have never felt so sexy, so incredibly womanly in a piece of clothing. I know it sounds slightly materialistic, but without getting into a lot of unnecessary details, some "stuff" in my childhood and young teenage years had tragically scared me into thinking that looking beautiful is a negative thing. Until recently by the work of God through healing and forgiving my past, I can say by wearing this dress and being okay (even celebrating!) getting attention for looking really beautiful, is a large milestone.

But...
we never went on the date.

The dress is hanging in my closet, and I'm so freaking excited to wear it!

Let me make this very clear, this is not me saying that the little black dress represents the future and a successful relationship. That the hope is in a future date, and that it will be my future husband. In fact, I already think I know when I'm going to wear it, and to say it's with my future husband is a bit ambitious--to even call it a date is ambitious.

The little black dress is a symbol for my cynical heart trying to put forth effort and willingness to try, even after being burnt out ten times before.  It's a symbol of acceptance and acknowledgment of my true identity. It's the fact that when/if I put it on for a date, the success of that date does not determine who I am, to any degree.

The world can know  every detail about the little black dress. The world can know about the man who sees me in it for the first time. The world can know about the success or failures that will inevitably be associated with it.

I'll let the world know my adventures in the little black dress in hopes the person underneath those dark threads stands with dignity and optimism through all the pressures this life throws at her, and in even more hope that the God who made the woman in the little black dress could be glorified and made known in both her successes and failures.

The Fruit of Friction

Suffering is not something to avoid.

Geographically, Buddhism (Eastern thought) is closer to the first Christians than we, so when Paul and James talk about suffering, it was already in context of Eastern Thought. Why does this matter? Well, if you look at Paul and James teachings on suffering, you will see the idea of suffering is almost exactly the same as a Buddhist: you should not fight suffering or discomfort; you should embrace it.

When a person tries to avoid, fights against, or grows apathetic to suffering/discomfort, that person becomes bitter, damaged, broken, and bruised. 

When a person accepts, embraces, and builds a familiar relationship with suffering/discomfort, that person becomes stronger, wiser, and more gentle.

James says, "Count it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testings of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete,  lacking in nothing."

Note: James is not saying be joyful in trials. He's saying ultimately trails will be for our joy.

Western thought tells us comfort is our priority. When we live like comfort is our end-goal in life, we quit too often and too quickly when things get uncomfortable. 

So, I have to ask two questions: 

1) How does this [prioritizing comfort] translate to real world?

2) What are the consequences of this [prioritizing comfort]? 

For the sake of this blog, I will define the real world as a combination of two things: human relationships and work. Human relationships include parental, familial, romantic, friendship, platonic, academic, coworkers, etc. Work includes a job, career, school, mission, or calling. 

Relationships:

We quit relationships too quickly and too often because our comfort has been disturbed. Maybe you need to ask for grace, and your pride makes that uncomfortable. Maybe you need to extend grace, and your fear makes that uncomfortable. Maybe you need to compromise more but that means giving up securities that you've created. Maybe you need to tear down walls, but that means being more vulnerable.  Maybe you need to forgive, but that means facing fears. Maybe you need to work on something, but that means effort. 

Work:

We quit jobs too quickly and too often because our comfort has been disturbed. Maybe you need to be more flexible. Maybe you need to learn to do things you don't like to do. Maybe you need to learn a new skill. Maybe you aren't that good at something and you don't want to better it. Maybe you don't get paid as well as you wish. Maybe people don't thank you enough. Maybe you work long hours. Maybe you wish you had a promotion. The moment the job isn't catered to your wish list, you quit. 

OR maybe you don't quit those things for the same reason. Maybe there is comfort in staying in an unhealthy relationship/workplace.

The bottom line: we seek comfort. 

When we prioritize comfort in the real world, there are some serous spiritual consequences. 

Spirutal Consequences:

After studying the fruit of the Spirit, I have learned three very important (maybe obvious) characteristics regarding application. 

• First, the word fruit is important. This might be obvious, but fruit is a symbolic word for the product a plant produces. As a Christian, the fruit of the Spirit is the product of living as a Christian--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-Control.

• Second, and closely related to the first, the different fruits of the Spirit are byproducts of your walk with the Lord. In other words, you don't strive to have more patience; you strive to look like Christ, and in that pursuit you become more patient.

• Third, you cannot fully produce fruit without relationships. You can only partly practice and grow in the Spirit by yourself.  You need to be in relation to others to fully practice the fruit of the Spirit. Try practicing being gentle to only yourself. Try being patient with just yourself. Yes, you can partly grow in the Spirit by yourself, but the fruit of walking as a Christian is to exemplify the fruit onto and with others.  

So, what does this have to do with comfort? When we are spiritually challenged in these areas, we can quit all too often and too quickly.  And quitting produces: first a bitter heart, then a callous heart, and lastly (I would argue most dangerously), an apathetic heart.

A bitter, callous, or apathetic heart towards our relationships/work will create walls keeping us from the Spirit. So often we think of the Spirit as its own entity. But simple inductive reasoning: God is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. God is the Spirit.  Therefore, when we prioritize comfort, becoming bitter, callous, or apathetic, we are building walls between us and God. 

We need to struggle with our discomfort, wrestle our weakness, and fight tensions. If we don't, we quit people and missions. When we quit, we build walls, keeping us separate from growing in the Spirit. And if we believe the Holy Spirit is God, we are separating ourselves from God, building an immunity to His voice.  

Maybe we shouldn't seek out suffering, as I know full and well, it will find us. But maybe we should seek out spiritual discomfort every now and then. If I'm constantly comfortable with my walk with the Lord, His people, and His calling on my life, I might have to take a look and see if it's a red-flag because I have been living for myself and my comfort.

Inversely, when we fight through our discomfort and sufferings, remaining steadfast, we reap the harvest of commitment and the joy of satisfaction in both relationships and work. 

Prioritize God, not comfort. Nobody grows from being comfortable, stagnate, or apathetic.

Waiting for Green (Alt. Title: Ugh, Another Post Grad Blog?)

This blog will not be me saying, “remain steadfast in the waiting because God has a plan for you eventually.”

On the contrary, I would like to posit: there is no such thing as a waiting time. I’ll explain.

I am impatient. This impatience is just the manifestation of my worry. I want things quickly, so I can be two things: satisfied and at peace.

In just about every area of my post grad life, I had no stability. Nothing was settled. Nothing was secure. And worse, nothing was known.

For about eight days, I had been sleeping on couches and floors because I was applying for jobs, filming a wedding, and attending holiday functions. I physically, emotionally, and spiritually crashed hard.

I was so confused by God. Why did He lead me here (this physical, mental, and emotional place) if nothing was safe?

The lord said to Gideon, “You have too many men. I cannot deliver Midian into their hands, or Israel would boast against me, ‘My own strength has saved me.’ Judges 7:2

God doesn’t keep us dangling because He needs to be the superhero that comes in last minute to save us. However, He is a jealous God because He loves us. He wants the credit because He knows we cannot do it without Him.

First, He knows nothing else will satisfy us. God, being perfect love, is the best for us. So, the first part to rid my impatience is to rest in assurance; His timing is perfect. Trying to do anything on my own, manipulating situations, and not trusting Him will lead to [even more] unsatisfying results.

Second, God doesn’t keep us dangling at all.  In fact, I don’t believe there is such thing as a waiting time, at least not in the traditional sense. Here’s what I mean. For a long time, I’ve been taught to remain faithful in the waiting. It was described as a place where we are supposed to continue—a sort of going through the motions—to do what God calls us to do until the next thing happens. I think, in good spirit, people teach that we’re supposed to remain. Now, here’s the problem with this mentality—this continuing through the hardships—it has a sort of underlining unsatisfied mentality doesn’t it? I can feel my heart saying, “I’ll be faithful in this because the good is yet to come.” (Biblically this is referring to Christ's coming and Christ's second coming, not a lighter load on earth). 

In fact, this trickles into another area God has been revealing, which is the importance of feeling not just obedience (logic). I think we should obey regardless of how we feel, but we should use that obedience as a catalyst to feel at peace. Obedience in trusting is not the end stop; it is the fire we use  to experience God's peace.

Think: what if the good is now? What if this notion of waiting was a pseudo-peace we created? 

What if there was no such thing as waiting just being? 

You can decide to waste being on waiting.

Instead, what if you spent your “waiting” by living? Actually utilizing all opportunities. Can you image the energy, the people, the places, and the experiences?

I often think back to something my pastor once said. He told a story about a woman.  Before a hardship, she was extremely merciful, sweet, gentle, etc. After her hardship, she lost her virtues.

Hear me, I'm not saying fake happiness. 

I’m saying: I don’t want to be a person of genuine virtue, integrity, joy, and kindness when things are good for me. Behaving well just when I get what I want.

I want to look back on the hard times, the uncertainty, un-sureness, the fear, and the unsettling moments with virtue—a manifestation of my trust in the Father. 

I don’t want to exemplify that trust only when things go my way.

Joy is closer to peace than it is to happiness. Joy is saying regardless of the circumstances, I’m trusting in the Lord. I’m giving Him my everything—the good, the bad, and the in between (waiting).

Buddhism teaches this sort of peace. They don’t view suffering as bad. Suffering is suffering; it is a part of life. Instead of wallowing in it, waiting for it to end, you are to find the peace within yourself. Do not be afraid or scared of the suffering. Embrace the suffering as it is, in that acceptance you find inner peace. 

Now, as a Christian, I don’t believe we have that peace within us. I don’t believe we can ever train hard enough, think long enough, mediate well enough, or learn enough to acquire it. But I do believe there is a loving God who graciously gives us peace, even—and here’s the scandalous nature of His love and peace—especially when we created the havoc in the first place.

I think Paul exemplifies the peace that the Buddhists and other Christians talk about. I think everybody is in need of it, searching for it. In the midst of hell on earth, there are accounts of Paul remaining faithful. But here’s the difference. It’s not complacency. It’s a peace that moved Paul. It’s a peace that pushed Paul into action. The peace of God actually gave Paul purpose in his time of suffering. He didn’t “wait out the suffering.” He lived out the suffering.

So maybe you’re waiting for a job. Maybe you’re single and waiting for a significant other. Maybe you’re waiting to graduate. 

These are all beautiful gifts from God, but they should not grow into distractions from God and His calling to do Kingdom work. In fact, the moment their existence (or lack thereof) becomes the reason you aren't active in your pursuit or purpose set before you, you actually begin to abuse their very nature.  No job, no person, no freedom, no ____ can satisfy your soul. 

Hence, I think waiting can be dangerous. If you’re stuck with a waiting mentality, you’ll miss the living now. Look at your circumstances as a place to learn, to heal, to teach, to serve, to know, and to be known. Don’t miss what is right in front of you. You don’t want to be the one that actually gets what you want, but in the process wasted three years waiting for it.

I don’t believe in waiting. I believe in accepting where I am, if it’s pain or suffering, trusting the Lord will heal and restore, and actively living in the now.

I want to end on this: I think waiting in the Biblical sense is an active trusting. It is not a helpless, dormant life. And, I think this active trusting is where one will find a satisfying and peaceful life regardless of the circumstances.

Psalm 27:14 

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord

This is slightly irrelevant. I didn’t want to include it in the main blog portion, but food for thought:

I think the only one who can actually wait is God because unlike us, He is the only one who is in control of time. 

We are supposed to accept and trust His timing. 

But! Can God really “wait”? In the sense, is it waiting if He controls time? It’s not so much "waiting" as it is "how He wants it." It is simply: His timing. Maybe in the literal sense, it is waiting because it is a pause... but that’s an awfully limited perspective—to think something is on a pause because it’s not when we would have it done.  We only know our own lives and our very small understanding of time. I mean, if God has perfect timing, can He even “wait”? Or is it just His timing is perfect and so the notion of waiting is formed by humans who just cannot agree or simply cannot fathom His timing? 

Green Light (Seattle, WA)