Why my choice is celibacy

"I remember the cool girls when I was growing up. Everyone started to have sex. But it's not really cool any more to have sex all the time. It's cooler to be strong and independent." --Lady Gaga

I am sick and tired of people telling me I ought to have sex. What happened to the "live and let live" that they otherwise seem to herald? If they have the right to make their own choices, I should have the right to make mine--without commentary from the peanut gallery. I don't repeatedly tell them that they shouldn't have sex!

I am sick and tired of people telling me that I need to have sex to fully experience life (which is why I am so annoyed with that movie, "Becoming Jane." Jane Austen has to have had an illicit love affair in order to be a great writer? What an insult to her talent!). If a person must experience "all that life has to offer" in order to live fully, then is any missed opportunity to be considered a less than full life? What if I never get to [insert experience here]? That's life. Is sex suddenly in the same category along with air, food, and water? Or does having sexual intercourse suddenly make me a better person? While it is obvious that the human race needs sex to continue, the human individual does not need sex to survive (despite what some "The Real Housewives of New Jersey" husbands might claim).

While the power of human sexuality is inarguable, it doesn't mean that celibacy is impossible. People who argue that those who save sex for marriage often get married just to have sex, are having sex just to have sex--so who is better off? Is it better to "try out" sexual partners without the pressure of marriage (and risk disease and unwanted pregnancy) or to marry someone (with the desire to have sex looming large) that might not be your perfect match? People have sex before marriage, get married, and still get divorced; who is to say that waiting until marriage is worse? I can hear it now: At least they had fun along the way...

I am sick and tired of people telling me that I am repressed. How do they know what I am? Can they read my mind? Just because I exercise self-control in this area does not mean that I have some unhealthy storm growing inside of me. I might have the urge to hit someone, curse, or overeat, but the fact that I choose not to does not mean that I am frustrated (v. [made] worthless or of no avail; defeat[ed]; nullif[ied]). Do I wish I could have sex? Sure. Do I want to apart from a committed relationship? No. Why not, you might ask? Because sex is intimate. Because my soul is connected to my body, and giving my body to another person in that way--for me--is tantamount to letting someone open my skull and touch my brain. Not only could such a thing be very painful if done without loving care, but it could potentially invite infection. ;p

I have chosen not to have sex until I am married. Some might say that marriage is a human construct, but the reality is, that it is an "institution" that most people recognize to represent a committed relationship. Can you have a committed relationship without "a piece of paper"? Sure. But I would ask, "Why do you need to have a committed relationship without marriage? Is it because you do not really want to commit?"


Can a monogamous relationship include loving sex? Of course. But if I have no guarantee that the relationship is going to last, the sex (with or without intercourse) would have reservations. I have told guys that I have dated--and I have loved--"I just want you to know, [that I could have sex with you, and] you could have me, but you wouldn't really have me." Why? Because I would always hold something back.

Of course there are no guarantees. We live in a fallen world. I could get married to a wonderful man in a glorious ceremony and something could happen beyond my control. He could die. He could cheat. He could decide he doesn't want to be married anymore. All these things certainly make sex uncertain no matter how you slice it. But that doesn't make me want to share my soul with just anyone; it makes me want to protect it all the more.

And I will.

"Us" Against "Them"

Rolling Stone has a political feature in each issue called, “Threat Assessment: The Good, The Bad, and The Scary,” in which they place news stories on a sort of sliding scale where then rank items as either “With Us” (Good) or “Against Us" (Bad/Scary). Interestingly enough, the good, “With Us” items are on the left side, which is shaded blue, and the bad, scary, “Against Us” points are on the right, which is colored, appropriately, red.

Who exactly is the “Us” in this scenario? Is it fair that the compilers of the sidebar assume that their readers are both leftward leaning and Democrats?

The following are some examples that all readers of Rolling Stone are supposed to herald or abhor (although many are undeniably funny):

With us: “Bedbugs infest Fox News Studio”; “Taliban mortar fire disrupts Toby Keith concert in Afghanistan”; “Ecuador signs constitution giving nature inalienable rights.”

Against Us: “Obama chooses Bud Light for 'Beer Summit'"; “Legal name of candidate running to replace Sen. Larry Craig: 'Pro-Life.'”

What if I like Bud Light? Or Toby Keith? Does that make me a bad person? I had no idea Rolling Stone was so snobby.

It would be one thing if they simply wrote about their opinion, but to assume that their readers all fall within the “with us” end of the spectrum is insulting. Perhaps the column’s creators are believers in absolute truth?

The anatomy of donating a kidney (aka @!$# Genes!)

The other day I heard a program on NPR about George Price. Not only was he the geneticist who discovered the mathematical equation for altruism (the Price Equation), but he was a man who worked to prove his own formula wrong.

This theorem can be observed in ants--among other critters--that work to protect the lives of their relatives over the lives of those that don't share some of their genetic code. Apparently, the reason for such selflessness is selfishly motivated by the desire to preserve their genes.

While I can relate to the fact that I would be more willing to donate a kidney to my brother than a stranger, I balk at the notion that it's because I am instinctively preserving my genes for future generations. I mean, first of all, my brother has already been fruitful and multiplied, so saving him really has nothing to do with saving our family genetics--if my brother or I were adopted, and I happened to be a match, I would be willing to give my brother a kidney because he is my brother, not due to some evolutionary predisposition.

Price's mental state nonwitstanding, I'm pretty sure he would too.

Do, do, do; lo, lo, lo...

Friends, what kind of car do you drive?

Because I'm thinking if I have a list of "friends cars" in my head (please be specific: color/make/model/bumper stickers/state of registration), instead of being mad at a driver (in a red/Honda/Civic/with a Red Sox bumper sticker/and Massachusetts plates) who cuts me off on the highway (we're in a construction area for crying out loud!), I can wave and say, "After you, my friend!"

This would replace my terribly bad habit of calling the driver of such a car one of my preferred names such as douche or loser. For a time, I would try to interrupt myself and say, "Do---" or "Lo--". It wasn't long before I began singing the syllables to the melody of the Sting song: "Do, do, do; lo, lo, lo..."


Can you help me sing a new song?