I’ve never kissed a guy. I don’t want to kiss a guy. Not yet, anyway.
But before you start screaming at me about how I’m “missing out on life” or that I’m a “freaky, over-zealous Christian weirdo,” hear me out.
The first thing I want to say–and I hope to make this very, very clear–is that everything I talk about here is my personal choice. I’m not saying you should do this. I’m not saying everyone should do this. It’s a personal choice I made. Please don’t feel like I’m shaming anyone in any way. That’s not my intention. The only reason I’m posting this is because I’m sick and tired of people (usually indirectly) making fun of me for my decision.
Yup, I’m saving my first kiss for my marriage day. The only man I’ll ever kiss will be my husband. Go ahead. Laugh. Get it out now. Oh, come on, I know you want to. “Pssh, this girl is lame. Why would you wait that long to kiss someone? Besides, it’s just a kiss!” You’re right; it’s only a kiss. And yet, it’s so much more than that.
I was raised in a Christian home. So maybe you don’t find everything I’m saying surprising. After all, my parents probably are the ones who won’t let me kiss, right? Wrong. Actually, I do believe my dad said (many, many years ago) that I couldn’t kiss (or was it date?) until I was sixteen. I don’t care. I don’t plan to kiss anyone until I’m twenty-something.
Let me just say, regardless of kissing, God has said that sex before marriage is a no-no. That one is a rule I have to follow; that one’s not a choice. But God never says, “Thou shalt not kiss before you marry.” That’s not a command. That’s a decision.
Heck, I don’t even want to date until I’m in college! Yes, I know I’m a strange teenage girl. What? I have two younger brothers. I have enough boys in my life.
Now that all that is out of the way, let’s get to the point here. I don’t know exactly when I decided that I would save my first kiss for marriage. In fact, I think I’ve always wanted to do it. By the time I actually understood dating and all that stuff, I had decided that I definitely would save my first kiss. Before you ask, no, I don’t have a purity ring–besides, jewelry and I don’t get along. It wasn’t a decision I made with my parents. It was something between me and God, and I never really saw it as a big deal.
Then I found out how much people mock this idea. Honestly, seeing someone make fun of someone else’s choice sickens me to the point where I have to look away. Lay off them! It doesn’t affect you! And the things people make up about it make me so angry. They make it look like we’re stupid for choosing to save our first kiss!
“But if you don’t kiss now, you won’t know how to do it on your wedding day!”
This is the most ridiculous argument I have ever heard for anything, ever. Seriously?! Let me ask you something: How did you know how to do your first kiss? Oooooh! Lookie there! I bested you, didn’t I? The first kiss is always portrayed as a magical thing–even though I know that it doesn’t always work that way in real life. Think back to your first kiss. How did you “know” how to do it? Do the world a favor and stop saying that I won’t know how. It really doesn’t make a difference. I’m just waiting a few more years. I’m putting my lips on someone else’s; how hard can it really be?
Recently I watched “iKiss,” an episode of of the TV show iCarly. To make a long story short, Freddie (one of the main characters) is completely embarrassed because everyone finds out that he hasn’t kissed a girl. I want to slap everyone who made fun of him. Who cares? Why on earth do people care about this? So according to Nickelodeon, I need to have kissed someone by the time I’m fourteen or I’m a complete outcast? Right. What?!
Allow me to elaborate a little more on one of the reasons I’m saving my first kiss. This example comes from a church camp I went to a few years ago back in middle school. Our cabin went to a seminar in the morning, and I think it was about dating or something. Anyway, here’s the gist of it:
The speaker invited a boy up on stage, handed him a basket of apples, and instructed him to sit down in one of the chairs. Then he invited a girl up and had her sit in the other chair. He had them do different things, such as look at each other and smile. In an epic climax, he made them hold hands. Keep in mind, these two didn’t know each other at all. (It was so deliciously awkward, and all the rest of us were rolling around on the ground in laughter.) Anyway, each time they did something with each other, the speaker had the boy give the girl one of his apples. Eventually, as he walked them through their “dating” life, and they did many different things for the fist time, the contents of the boy’s basket began to disappear, until there was almost none left. The speaker wrapped it up by saying, “You only have so many firsts.”
I don’t want my first kiss to be with some random guy I won’t care about in five, ten, twenty years. I want it to be with the man I’m going to be with forever. I want it to be something amazingly special, and I can’t think of anything more special than standing up in front of all my friends and family in a beautiful white dress with the love of my life standing in front of me. That’s what I want my first kiss to be like.
I’m not saying everyone has to do this. In fact, I don’t really care whether you do or not. It’s a choice, so I can’t force you to do anything. No one can. I know plenty of non-married Christian couples that kiss. No big deal. But I don’t want to kiss, and here’s the thing: You have just as much right to tell me to kiss as I have to tell you not to kiss. You can do it, but in the end, it’s not going to benefit either of us. So please, I’m begging you. Don’t make fun of me–or anyone else–just because they haven’t kissed someone or don’t want to kiss someone. Let them live their life!
For me, I know that I only have one first kiss. I want it to count. But that’s my decision; a choice that should only affect me and my future husband. I don’t know who he is yet, but I’m saving my lips for him, because it’s what I want to do.