To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable. – C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
Growing up, we’re taught in Sunday school that God’s love is abundant and by loving more, we grow more in his grace and love. We’re told it’s unconditional and unlimited and that it multiplies more and more and more as we practice it. If we love our neighbor, we’ll receive love back in abundance. God is love, and love is good, and all that jazz.
But, for some reason, this idea comes to a screeching halt when we discuss romantic love – apparently, eros is finite. If I have multiple boyfriends before I marry, I will give away parts of my heart to those men, and will only have a broken shell to present to my husband. When it comes to eros, I have a lifetime limit, and if I love too often and too openly, I will reach that limit and have no love for my husband.
I remember, when I was younger, discussing and vilifying women who “gave their hearts away” by having successive boyfriends in high school. I remember talking about how I wanted to guard my heart until I was ready to give it away in a marriage relationship.
I no longer believe that protecting my heart from being broken is a good way to live. Indeed, I think that belief in this philosophy throughout my formative high school and college years has, in fact, stunted my growth in romantic relationships.
When my boyfriend broke up with me last year, I was terrified of the pain. Nothing in life had prepared me for that moment. It felt like my world would never be whole again, despite his assurances that there would be someone out there for me who would be a better fit, that he was just the first and that there would be someone else who could love me in better, deeper ways than he had.
But, because I’d been raised to believe that the first guy you “give your heart away” to was supposed to be the one you stay with forever, I couldn’t believe him. Even though I live in a city that is 10% of the US population, I couldn’t believe that there was possibly someone who was a better fit for me than this guy. And I realized that, to some people, I was now sullied because I’d had the audacity to kiss someone who wasn’t going to be my husband.
I didn’t feel dirty, but I did feel extremely alone. I felt emotionally ripped apart and unlovable.
I didn’t know how to react, how to feel, or how to respond. I was ill-equipped for a break up because it was never discussed in a positive light while I was growing up – girls who had multiple boyfriends, regardless of what they did with those boyfriends, were sluts. And, suddenly, I was becoming one of those girls who was a “serial dater,” who was giving chunks of her heart away and wouldn’t have any left for her husband. Suddenly, according to the me of five years ago, I was a slut.
Even though I no longer believed in it, the guilt over my “emotional” purity made breaking up much harder than it should have been.* It took me a long time to get to a point where I could say, “I can learn from this. I can grow as a person,” and to stop simply wallowing in the idea that I’d screwed up my “one shot,” as it were.
Last month, I was in Grand Rapids, MI, for a work trip and had some free time on Saturday evening. I ended up going out with a guy I’d met that day. We were out until 3:30 in the morning, dancing and drinking with a large group of his college friends. By the end of the night, we’d kissed several times.
I realized that weekend that I was over my first break up. I was opening myself up to the possibility of loving someone new. And it felt fantastic.
And, because of my previous experience, I was also able to put a stop to things before my heart was broken again. Any relationship that developed was going to be long distance for an undetermined length of time. In the weeks that followed our date, he seemed distant and reluctant to pursue things further. Because I knew how things had gone with my first relationship, I was able to recognize red flags quickly, and after a few days of hard thinking on my part, I texted him that it wasn’t going to work and deleted his number from my phone.
It was an act of strength on my part. After being raised in a culture where one simply didn’t say “I love you” to multiple people, and still struggling with the idea that “this could be my one shot at a relationship,” I was able to recognize that this new guy was not going to go anywhere I wanted to. I was able to recognize those red flags. I was able to stand up and say, “This is not what I want because I know what I want.”
Here’s what I’m saying and probably divulging too much information in saying: that idea that your heart only has so many pieces to give away? And that having boyfriends before you actually marry means you won’t have a whole heart to give to your husband? That is bullshit. My heart is larger and more understanding of the depths of different types of love precisely because of the experience I am developing in these relationships.
Will my (possible but not for sure) future husband not know parts of me that those first two boys know? Quite likely. But that won’t be because I’ve broken apart and given my heart away to too many people that I have nothing left for him. It will be because if/whenever I meet him, I will be a different person than they ever knew.
Each of these experiences is turning me into the woman I need to be in order to know what it’s like to give my full heart to a partner someday in the future. Even if it is in the interest of protection, we should not deny those in our congregations the opportunity to discover who they are through dating, through broken hearts, and through the pain of loving and losing.
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*Note: Many would argue that this guilt is proof-positive that dating is wrong. That’s wrong; that black and white view denies the complexity that is human beings involved in a relationship and denies them the will and agency to respond to their own lives. My guilt was the result of vestiges of a harmful philosophy I was taught – guilt that came from outside sources. I do not believe that it was the Holy Spirit making me feel convicted about having a boyfriend – the Holy Spirit does not make us wallow in guilt.
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9 Responses
You bring up some very good points. We really can screw people up out of fear. I was married young (22) and had very few relationships prior to my husband, but I wouldn’t say that I didn’t give him my whole heart.
I also wonder what people would say about someone whose spouse dies and is then remarried: does that person keep part of his/her heart away from the new spouse?
I wish I could remember where I read it but there was some blog post or magazine article within the last few months that was about how we’ve just taken romantic fairy-tale type love and just slapped a Christian label on it when it’s talked about in church/youth groups/etc. It was a good, thought-provoking piece.
I love this so much! I was taught the same thing–not to awaken love before it desires, not to give your heart away, guard your heart, etc. I had problems with guilt at the beginning of my current relationship, even though I was already a feminist at the time and didn’t believe those teachings anymore.
My partner, who was raised in the same teachings (and also doesn’t believe them and doesn’t even identify as Christian anymore), had “guarded his heart” until age 26 when he met me, yet I had been in a horribly intimate abusive relationship and then a three year long relationship that nearly led to marriage. I spent months feeling like I wasn’t worth of my partner–he had a whole heart to give me and I have one that was so broken I had to take Zoloft and go to counseling to fix it.
I still have to fight those feelings of guilt from time to time.
Great article. I appreciate your growing understanding of yourself and your needs through these experiences. As someone who dated a bit before marriage, I can say whole-heartedly that the dating experiences I’ve had have made me a better wife today. I understand myself, my own needs more clearly than I would have if I had not dated and experienced negative interactions. I understand my husband better than I would have, if I’d not learned through my mistakes with others. Ultimately, break-ups are still painful. But avoiding dating can also be harmful. I think it’s important to note that through my dating experiences, I learned more about myself and what I honestly need in an intimate relationship, so that when I met my husband, I could recognize how absolutely special he is. A perfect match to all of my key needs. I’m not saying that dating is for everyone, but raising young people to understand the better points of dating is important. There can be value in dating before marriage. If approached with the healthier perspective that maybe not every dating relationship will lead to marriage, I think that people can better emotionally prepare for potential breakups. Maybe a breakup can be regarded as an acknowledgement that the relationship isn’t a perfect fit, and the two individuals can wish each other well, learn from the experience, and move on without the cruel devastation of believing they just wasted their time.
Thanks for the article. I heartily agree.
“Here’s what I’m saying and probably divulging too much information in saying: that idea that your heart only has so many pieces to give away? And that having boyfriends before you actually marry means you won’t have a whole heart to give to your husband? That is bullshit.”
That quote encapsulates why I love your blog. Thanks for calling what it is.
Absolutely, 100%. Every relationship made me happy in some ways and sad in others, and every breakup was painful, but they’ve each contributed to the person who I am now and they’ve each had a positive impact on my marriage. (I’m lucky in that respect; I’ve never been in an abusive relationship, which would be a much greater struggle to deal with.)
I was raised to believe that every physical act (even kissing) with a person other than my husband was sinful and that if I slept with anyone before marriage, I could never be truly intimate and alone with my husband. Something about how every other sexual encounter would be with me on my wedding night.
Boy howdy does that ever turn out to be false.
I always love with my whole heart every single time I fall in love. I have had 4 serious boyfriends and a husband (I’m 37 and divorced)– I loved all of them wholly and the circumstances of those relationships ending had nothing to do with the love I felt.
I was not raised to “guard” my heart– I always believed that dating around would help me better understand who is and who is not compatible with me. I would like to re-marry at some point if I can find the right guy (I hate to admit it but I had a suspicion that I was marrying the wrong guy throughout my engagement and on my wedding day even, and it’s complicated as to why I went through with it).
Yes it hurts like crazy when a serious relationship ends, but it is only a matter of time before someone new and wonderful comes along.
I am beginning to wonder if all the guarding the heart business isn’t just a dressed up version of self flagellation. Oh that boy is cute, and I like him and he likes me but I need to be a “good Christian girl” and since I’m not ready to be married or whatever the excuse I am going to have a little piety pitty party and then move on. I say this because at 30 – being engaged at one time and then only really learning to date after that horrible abusive relationship I am now truly aware of the bizarre language my fellow adult singles use around dating – ideas like dating fasts – God doesn’t want me to date until He and I are right and then that right man will come along – similar to your cringe worthy dance with Jesus line from a few blogs back, or as Sara noted that dating confers some sense of loosing value, being unworthy for the next man who comes along. While I have no problem calling bullsh*t on it now, I am surprised how many late 20 and thirty something educated Christian women still believe it. Makes me really sad actually on all they’re missing out on – the fun and yes even the pain, because in the pain we find some awesome stories and things to laugh about.
This is such a great post. I admire your courage in calling out the lies we hear for what they truly are. The guarding of your heart that I read about in my Bible is quite different than the guarding of hearts against love, against feeling that I read about online. Christ did not give us a spirit of fear, yet there is so much fear of failure present in Christian circles. We do not need more boundaries, we need more Jesus.
I was not raised to “guard my heart”–although I was brought up in a conservative evangelical environment, I’m old enough that this particular type of instruction emerged after I married. I experienced 2 serious relationships (& consquent breakups) in high school and 2 in college. I was fortunate enough at 15, in the exact midst of my first heartbreak (which happened during a school play!), to receive very good advice from some friends and a teacher on how to deal with heartbreak and get my life and dignity back–advice which helped me through the subsequent breakups as well. But now I have been married for nearly 2 decades, I can tell you, those old boyfriends do not have the “pieces of my heart” that should be for my husband. *Those* are owned by my kids and my hobbies. Your past can heal but present distractions always exist!