Dear Boy, I’m Not a One-Night Kind of Girl
Written by Phylicia Masonheimer | November 11, 2018
When I say I’m not a one-night kind of girl, I’m not being coy. It’s not a flirtatious game. It’s not me playing hard-to-get. And it’s not a challenge for you to try harder.
It’s the truth.
You may not have met many girls like me, or maybe you have—and maybe you wore them down. Whatever happened before, it ends here. I know who I am and I know where I’m going. And I’m worth more than one night of a guy’s time.
It’s easy to believe lies about our sexuality—yours and mine. For you, sex might be as cheap as a fleeting desire, an animal instinct to be acted upon at will. Perhaps you think it’s some kind of honor that you’re offering yourself to me. But the real honor lies in valuing our sexuality—valuing it enough to hold back. Valuing it enough to commit. Valuing it enough to save it for two lifetimes, not just one night.
How do I explain this to you, boy? How do I explain the depth and glory of sexuality saved? It’s not that I don’t feel desire; I do. There are times I want to give in; times I want to experience what is available to me. But then I remember who I am: a woman redeemed. Everything I’ve ever done wrong has been paid in full, and everything I will ever do can be forgiven. Why would I want to abuse such grace?
I think we can agree that love and sex aren’t the same thing. If you thought they were, you wouldn’t be talking in one-night terms. But I believe sex and love are designed to go hand in hand; they were never meant to be separated. They weren’t meant to become distinct entities…sex being the practice which may or may not lead to love. Sex being the scapegoat when love doesn’t work out. Love—emotional intimacy—is the foundation of sexual intimacy. You can’t truly have one without the other.
I’m not a prude, boy. I’m a girl who values herself. I’m a girl who believes I have something to offer that is beautiful and divine, and I’m not going to sell it short. I’m not going to give away something of lifetime-quality for one night of noncommittal “fun.” Because it’s not fun to be used, even when you consent to the using. It’s not fun to be an object, even when you choose to be objectified. Somewhere deep inside, we all know there’s more. There’s more to sex. There’s more to love.
I’m not a one-night kind of girl, not because I think I’m better, but because I know who I am. I don’t need a night with you to prove my identity. I don’t need to perform sexually as a rite of passage or a way to earn your attention. My body and heart have value, and I’m standing by what is true: Sexuality is a gift, a light, a privilege. I’ll enjoy it fully someday—someday when covenant opens the door. Until then, I’m not here for your viewing pleasure. I’m here for an eternal purpose.
I hope one day you see the lie you believe about yourself; about women. I hope one day you see that there’s more for you than this.
Maybe then, you won’t be a one-night kind of boy.
You’ll be a lifetime kind of man.