I just received the below from the young woman who wrote the letter I answered in this morning’s “Why would God degrade Mary as he did?” I asked her if I could share it, and she said okay.
John, this is [X]. I wrote the letter to you about the Virgin Birth, and I just read your response to it. I’m sitting in front of my computer at work fighting back tears, because your response cut to the heart of the matter.
I never thought about how pathetic I sound in the letter, and I’m ashamed that I’ve been exposed. My words convey that I’m repressed, frigid, and unloving, which may be more true than I wish to admit. My use of the word “degrading” was flippant and callous, and I sincerely regret having used it. I didn’t mean to imply that a woman who is pregnant is being degraded. If she is happy, then I see no reason not to be happy for her.
I’ve tried to analyze my anxieties about pregnancy, and I believe their nature is twofold. First of all, I can’t stand the idea of anything unfamiliar and uncontrollable happening to my body. When I was seven years old, I was hospitalized with a potentially fatal illness. I endured a barrage of medical procedures, including chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant. My hair fell out. I gained 20 pounds (about a third of my body weight.) And while I’m healthy now, I’ve remained very self-conscious about the photos and testimonies of family and friends that remind me of what happened to me. I know this is nothing akin to pregnancy, but the thought that’s been embedded in my mind is, “This is what happens when I don’t have control of my body. It’s disgusting and embarrassing. I can’t let this happen again.”
The other aspect of my feelings concerns relationships. It’s probably no surprise that I’m a virgin. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and have never really dated. I long to be in a loving relationship with a man, and I grow more and more discouraged that I have not found one. I’ve felt the sting of unrequited love several times. And I’ve attracted attention only from men who don’t respect me. Almost a year ago when I was with a man I was just getting to know, I received unwanted physical contact from him. Not sexual assault – he just put his arm around me. Still, the shock of it caused me to have a panic attack. This triggered a relapse of my anxiety disorder, which temporarily threw my life into chaos.
It’s only been recently that I’ve come around again to the idea of pursuing a relationship. I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with a man that I’ve known for about two months now, and I’ve seized every opportunity to get to know him better. He seems to like spending time with me, but it’s difficult to gauge his feelings. I find myself already grieving over the possibility that he may not love me. Even though it’s ridiculously premature to think that my past experiences mean that I won’t find true love, I’m dreading how much heartbreak I’ll have to go through in the meantime.
It’s difficult to find the connection between this romantic yearning and pregnancy. I think I see in the situation of most pregnant women the model of love and stability that I would like to obtain, but that I am afraid will be denied to me.
This is about as much as I think I can right at this time. I never intended to disclose so much about myself, but I suppose these feelings were bound to surface eventually.
God bless you, John. You are a true friend and a true listener. People like you are rare.
She and I exchanged a few emails after this. I assured her that she had written absolutely nothing about which she should feel even the slightest embarrassment or shame (“If I ever meet someone whose traumatic past hasn’t left them pretty significantly tweaked-up around sex,” I wrote her, “I’ll let you know”), and told her that by sharing with us her story she had helped us all grow a little. (“You’re out there. You’re facing those things about your past which have in some way compromised your present. And you’re looking toward a better future for yourself, and figuring out now how to get it. It’s beautiful.”)
(For what it’s worth, here’s a post I once wrote about why my wife and I don’t have children. And related to this whole matter is a post I wrote a few years back, Why Must Mary Die a Virgin?)
![John Shore on The Huffington Post](http://johnshore.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/huffpost.jpg?w=120 "John Shore on The Huffington Post\")
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I gotta feel a little sorry for the guy who didn’t realize he was stepping on a land mine by putting his arm around his date.
I’m not seeing that anyone else has said this, and it needs to be said: feeling revulsion about the idea of pregnancy is NORMAL for someone who is in a situation where she feels really, really unsafe. That’s the way it’s supposed to work. Your body says, “Hey, you feel safe with this guy, make a baby!” or “Hey, maybe now is not a good time. I mean it, NOT A GOOD TIME.”
You’re not messed up, or at least the messed up part is not that part. That part is working exactly as it should. You don’t feel safe so you don’t feel sexy.
The idea that getting pregnant could be nausea-inducing terrifying instead of joyful is something a lot of comfortable women have trouble understanding. It’s one reason so very many rich ladies are up in everyone’s business about reproductive rights. I have talked to women who quite literally couldn’t imagine how a pregnant woman could even want an abortion or feel anything except overwhelming love for her unborn. But, yo, that’s a serious failure of empathy on their part! Not something to brag about, and (ironically, since they accuse others of lacking love) not very loving.
Sorry for bringing abortion into it. My point is more that not everyone wants to be pregnant, and that not wanting to be pregnant is not an illness. John’s earlier response misses the point that Mary was picked because she was special, because unlike 99% of women who would have screamed and thrown objects, she started singing. Being made pregnant against your will IS degrading – just ask the soldiers in the Congo who routinely impregnate women to degrade them! It’s only love which makes pregnancy beautiful. Mary had that love for God.
Before you get to the point of wanting to be pregnant, you need to get to the point of feeling safe and secure about your own body. Baby steps – love your body, then get used to the idea of someone else loving your body, then forward from there. Definitely get some professional help. But if I can offer a little advise, be a spectator for a while. Watch other people in love, pay attention to your friends, how they date, how they flirt, how they touch each other. If you don’t have a lot of friends make some. Not boyfriends, just face-t0-face friends you hang out with. Watch people who seem to have it all together, and visualize yourself doing the things they do.
My two cents for ‘X’:
Please consider reading Peter A. Levine’s work. A good one (that comes with a CD) is “Healing Trauma: A Pioneering Program for Restoring the Wisdom of Your Body”. He really is kind of a pioneer of modern trauma therapy, and addresses the sort of childhood medical trauma you suffered, as well as a range of other types. His program is aimed at bodywork, not reliving the trauma (because that’s not necessary).
I don’t think you are pathetic. I think you are authentic. I feel sad that you feel ashamed to have been seen in your vulnerability, and hope that you will cut yourself some slack. There is such strength in vulnerability.
I have problems with panic/anxiety too, and it greatly affected my own ability to relate to the opposite sex in a healthy way. Overcoming those fears, getting married, and having kids were all a big gift of grace for me, and I pray the same thing for you. Be patient with yourself, don’t beat up on yourself, and most importantly, try to instill the habit of healthy “self-talk.” I mean those internal conversations where you compare yourself to everyone you know and wind up berating yourself for having issues. We all have issues. Speak to yourself as kindly as you would to a good friend.
Also, for all of us who were raised in conservative churches, doesn’t it seem weird that you were told (either in an outright or an implied way) that sex is bad, don’t think about it, sublimate all those feelings, etc. … and then the minute you get married, that switch is suddenly thrown, and you’re supposed to feel “it’s good!!!” In fact, it’s wonderful, God-given, do-it-every-night good! For some people, that transition can take time after all that repression!
John, please let her know that she is not alone in some of her fears. We’ve all struggled with that. Help really IS a wonderful thing to have. Also, please know that enjoying the present time with the man you like is extremely important. It’s okay to stay in the NOW when it comes to building a friendship/relationship.
If I could just say one thing to this young woman it would be this… So many women (and men) have this same fear. As a midwife, I have seen it numerous times. My recommendation for you would be to seek a loving, compassionate, empathetic maternity care provider when you do find that special someone, marry and think about having a child. Many blessings to you!
I have survived a few medical (and personal) horrors in my life, and trying to build a life as a healthy, loving, sexual being has been the hardest challenge I’ve ever undertaken. And so many forms of therapy dont seem to help you do more than pay a lot of money to talk about the same thing over and Over. But there are newer, more effective options theae days. A therapy I’ve found extremely helpful is Network Spinal Analysis- it uses extremely gentle bobdywork to release old traumas and emotions. Another very effective therapy is new school of talk therapy and bodywork combined called Intergrated Bodywork Psychotherapy (IBP) that uses breathing and talk therapy to help release old fears and patterns and help you move on and create a life filled with the things you want- warmth, love, positive relationships. Another good book is “Intimacy Anorexia” by Weiss. While the therapist who wrote the book focuses a bit heavily on the sex addictions (a behavior some people turn to when they’ve been too traumatized to develope healthy relationships) the patterns the book talks about are so familiar to me as someone whose early relationships left her damaged, and the exercises he
gives for working on them are quite good. I’m no expert, and these are just tools I’ve stumbled across through God’s grace. But you’re not alone in your fears, struggles, and loneliness, and there are paths towards hope and love in this life. We’re here on the path with you- you’re not alone.
“So I’m getting ready now to call it a day, and so will end comments on this post. (For this one, I want to be nearby in case anyone shows up lugging a spray-can of crazy.) Thanks to all who here today left the kind of supporting, loving comments I knew you would.” Thank you for the sensitivity you show on this and so many other issues. Peace, brother!
Boy, I can sure identify with this young lady. The idea of sex always seemed so invasive to me that, even when my mom first told me in a lovely and beautiful way about the male-female relationship and how babies are made, I was pretty horrified. I couldn’t imagine letting anyone that close to me. Like the writer, even something as simple as holding hands was incredibly forward and intimate to me. So I get it. It has taken a long time to identify and overcome those preconceived notions and become a more sexually aware and ready woman. Relationships are still scary things, but I’m sticking close to Jesus and sharing with him all my fears and doubts. Slowly but surely, I’m coming out of my shell and look forward to deeper relationships in the future.
To the woman who wrote the letter, like John said, you have encouraged many. Thank you for sharing your heart and story.
Everyone’s pregnancy is different. Mine was very medically invasive due to a chronic condition, and frankly, I felt crappy pretty much the entire time. Labor and delivery were nothing short of horrific for me. The whole experience left me with symptoms of PTSD for a year. Oh, and I had a beautiful, wonderful, healthy son.
My second pregnancy was a breeze. I had some anxiety and I gained some weight, but when my son was born, I hopped on a plane to pick him up and finalize the adoption. I keep in touch with his birthmother via facebook, so that she can see how wonderful he is.
Adoption is a wonderful thing. : )
Much peace and joy to you during this wonderful season.
Susan in NY
Hugs, Susan. I wrote a comment about my failed pregnancies and adoption and how that has skewed my view of pregnancy at different times in my life – and my computer crashed before it posted. I was too tired to retype it. But the nutshell version is that after having my parts removed, every pregnant woman I encountered felt like a personal affront, like God and the universe taunting me with what I couldn’t have. It was, obviously – that is simply how I felt at one point in my grieving process. Now I am simply fascinated by it (I have a pregnant student and a pregnant niece in my life right now) – and see the great joy it brings to those ready to parent. I feel wistful around them, a bit, but mostly joyful.
Just as when I think of my girls’ unknown birthmothers, who either weren’t ready or weren’t allowed to parent. I feel wistful again – for their loss and for the loss my girls feel, not knowing. And yet for myself, great joy, because I was given the honor of parenting the two most delightful human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I love them beyond blood, beyond life. We are, most definitely, connected at the spirit – which is how i feel about Jesus, Mary and God.
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