Warning…
This post talks about S E X (gasp!). If you're not open to understanding or learning from the experiences and traumas of others, this may not be for you. This post is necessary. This post is meant to bring awareness and, hopefully, healing to women who have felt alone and ashamed of this topic.
The reality? God blesses us the same—whether we had sex before marriage or we didn’t (Romans 8:1). Yes, I will talk about repentance vs. remorse. Yes, sin has consequences and should be avoided. But that’s not what this post is about—we can discuss that another time.
So, if you’re easily offended or feel this is crossing a line, I kindly ask you to exit now. But if you’re here for real talk, welcome to my series: Confessions of a Church Girl.
I was raised in a Pentecostal church, and I’m deeply grateful for the foundation it gave me. I loved going to church. But I also learned at a very young age that there were so many things I couldn’t talk about without feeling like I was sinning.
I was ten years old when I got my first period—on a field trip. I looked down, knew exactly what was happening, and thanked God I knew what to do. When I got home, I told my mom, “I got my period, Ma.” Her response? She called the entire church community (the women, at least) and told them her little girl was now a woman. That Sunday, I got a few “Congratulations!” and remember feeling so embarrassed—haha! So, I’m a woman… now what?
Growing up, I struggled a lot with my self-esteem and weight. I never felt pretty enough or skinny enough, so while boys were around, I never really thought anyone would like me. The reality is that I learned 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 early on—it was preached when it came to things like tattoos, alcohol, drugs, and sex. But somehow, the part about taking care of your body physically was often left out—like, you know, gluttony or neglecting mental health (which is connected to spiritual health). So, when thoughts about sex started creeping in or my body started changing, I automatically felt like I was ruining my temple.
At 13, I felt the hormonal changes in every way possible. I wanted Oreos with peanut butter, and I had feelings I was told were a sin. But like… hello?! What do I do with these feelings? Are we just going to ignore the biological and chemical realities happening in our bodies? I guess that was the plan.
That ignoring turned into hiding.
That hiding turned into sin.
Proverbs 28:13 says, “Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy.” I’ll share more about the sins I hid in this series, but for now, just know—I did not prosper. I struggled. I tried to reach out for help, to talk to people about it, but let’s just say… it didn’t go too well. Praise God for His transformative power.
Now, some of you may be reading this and flinching. Maybe you’re older than me (I’m 32) and realize you’ve done this to someone. Maybe you’re younger and struggle with a religious spirit. Maybe you’re going through this right now. Please know this is not a message of condemnation—it’s one of encouragement.
Take a deep breath. Check your heart. If it’s too much, pause and come back later.
Fast forward to high school. I remember sitting in Sex Ed, literally feeling like the floor was going to open up and I’d burst into flames. I kept feeling like it was wrong to hear this valuable information. That same day after school, I told my mom I was struggling. Her response? Just pray.
Now, of course, we know that when it comes to temptation, God is faithful.
1 Corinthians 10:13 says, “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”
But back then? I was still ignoring. Still hiding. And I never heard other teenagers at my church talk about what I was going through. So, I did what I thought I had to do—keep walking the walk and keep hiding the struggle because prayer would work, and it would go away.
When the church doesn’t teach us about these things, when we don’t learn from the Word or from the body of Christ—what happens?
We go to our friends.
We go to TikTok.
We ignore.
We hide.
We struggle in silence.
Let’s talk about it.
Hiding doesn’t do us any good—and the Bible teaches us that.
Here are some people in the Bible who hid from God and struggled because of it: Adam and Eve, Cain, Achan… and while she didn’t physically hide from Jesus, the Samaritan woman at the well did try to hide information from Him. She told Him she had no husband when, in reality, she had five—and the man she was with wasn’t even hers.
I was never officially given “the talk”—pretty sure I got it from my cousins (thank God for them!). But beyond that? Never. I also never learned about STDs (unless it was in school or on MTV, which I also wasn’t supposed to be watching—LOL). I didn’t know why going to the OBGYN was important even though I was a virgin. I wasn’t taught that tampons don’t take away your virginity (love my mom, but I cannot make this up—I laugh about it now). And I had zero clue about what age I was supposed to start seeing a gynecologist.
My cousin—who’s like my older sister—literally had a heart attack when I told her, at 22, that I had never been to the OBGYN. She made me book an appointment immediately. I was terrified because I had no idea what to expect. The amount of shame I carried around this topic from such a young age was overwhelming, and it absolutely hurt me when I got older—but that’s a post for another day.
My prayer is that we become women who create spaces where we can openly discuss what we’re struggling with, what we’re confused about, and where we can confess without the weight of shame.
In John 8, Jesus says to the accused woman:
“Jesus straightened up and asked her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’
‘No one, sir,’ she said.
‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ Jesus declared. ‘Go now and leave your life of sin.’”
Jesus stood up for this woman. Not only did He teach her the lesson of repentance, but He also sought to teach the Pharisees. Maybe they weren’t receptive—but maybe some were.
So how can we show up for women who are struggling to understand their bodies, talking about sex, or navigating what they’re feeling as a Christian (or not)—just like Jesus showed up for her?
Can we create healthy church communities that foster conversations of restoration? If we don’t teach the next generation, who will? How do we teach in a way that leads to life—not condemnation?
I think I’m still figuring this out in some ways and definitely unlearning a lot. But what I do know is that I’ve found restoration in spending time in His Word and in confessing within a sound community—one that leads me back to His truth.
Friends, family, church community—this community—one that understands we are not saviors. We’re just vessels meant to point people to the one and only Savior: Jesus.
If you’re struggling with this now or have in the past and it’s still hurting you, please reach out to someone with wisdom. Whether it’s a therapist, a church leader, a pastor, a friend, or a family member—pray on it. Ask God for guidance on who to talk to. That’s where your journey to healing and freedom begins.
Oh, and if you haven’t been to the OBGYN—even if you’re a virgin—please go. Trust me, it’s okay!
Love,
This church girl (yes, still a church girl—just a healthier version now).
