5 Reasons I Decided To Stop Having Sex Until Marriage

So when I went to college in Tennessee, I remember being shocked to meet people who were still virgins. I had never been in an environment where I thought waiting was even an option. But even then, I didn’t question my own beliefs. If anything, it only reinforced my conviction that my open-minded, progressive views on sex made me empowered and free-spirited. I believed I was making “mature” choices and living the way a 20-something woman in a big city was supposed to: embracing freedom, having flings, and following the path that everyone seemed to accept as normal.

It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that something started to shift.

As I deepened in my spiritual path and became a mentor for others, I began to see relationships, and sex itself, through a different lens. I started to recognize the sanctity of intimacy and put more care into who I shared my body with. The more I honored sex as something sacred, the more I felt at home in myself. My choices became more intentional. My standards rose. Even accepting the perspective that sex is a kind of sacred contract changed me on a fundamental level.

Still, waiting until marriage wasn’t something I considered. It felt extreme. Outdated. Almost unheard of.

And yet, somehow, this idea started to trickle into my awareness. Softly at first, then all at once. It’s only been a few months since I made the decision to stop having sex until I’m married, and as a single woman, I’ll admit, it felt scary at first.

Now? I feel the most free I’ve ever felt.

Reason #1: Sex Bonds You, Whether You Like It or Not

When my relationship ended last year, I experienced a feeling I’d never had before, something as close to regret as I, a woman who deeply trusts that everything happens for a reason, could come. It wasn’t that I wished I hadn’t been with him. There was love, and there were lessons. But I had a sobering realization: if I hadn’t slept with him so soon, we probably wouldn’t have ended up in a relationship at all.

For women, the release of oxytocin, literally referred to as the "bonding hormone," creates a biochemical response that affects how we see our partner. Once you have sex, your biology pushes for further bonding with that person, regardless of the outer circumstances.

There were a lot of signs that my last boyfriend was not a good choice for me. I even remember expressing my doubts. But following a pattern I’d gotten all too comfortable in, we had sex soon after meeting, and from that point on, we were in an exclusive relationship. When it ended, I sat in the wake of heartbreak and felt the full weight of that choice. I had ignored my own instincts, made a decision I knew better than to make, and in the end, I was the one who got hurt. It had never hit me like that before; I couldn’t believe the simplicity of it.  

Why would I keep working against my own biology? Why would I choose to do something that clouds my ability to see the truth?

Suddenly, it just didn’t make sense anymore.

Reason #2: Reclaiming My Body’s Intuition

I’ve dedicated my life to spiritual, emotional, and physical well-being. For five years, I’ve helped men and women reconnect with themselves, with God, and with nature. Through this work, I’ve come to see just how much wisdom the body holds: how it speaks to us, warns us, and guides us. And yet, most people are so deeply disconnected from their bodies that they don’t realize how they’ve been conditioned to override their own inner knowing.

This isn’t just something I’ve observed in others. It’s something I came to see in myself.

One of the biggest areas of disharmony I’ve encountered, both in my work and in my own journey, is the disconnect between body and mind, and body and spirit. The body has an incredible innate intelligence, not just in keeping our organs functioning, but in discerning whether or not something, or someone, is right for us. Unfortunately, though, we weren’t taught to tune in and listen. Most of us were taught to make “smart” or “logical” decisions, or to follow what seemed to work for everyone else.

I’ll never forget the first time I heard a mentor use the phrase "premature penetration." My whole system cringed. But she wasn’t talking about sexual violence. She was talking about every time my body wasn’t fully open, yet I had sex anyway. It hit me hard because, without realizing it, I had done this over and over again. I never asked myself if my body felt open, if it felt right, or if I was truly ready. Instead, sex had always felt like a rush, something I was supposed to enthusiastically jump into.

But as I learned to slow down in every other area of my life, as I cultivated an inner peace that truly surpassed understanding, I realized there was still one area where I hadn’t slowed down at all.

Sex.

And if I was being honest, I had felt a growing discontentment with it in recent years, unlike how I felt in every other area of my life.

I finally had to ask myself: Could it be because I still wasn’t listening? That my body didn’t just want my sex reserved for the special ones, but rather, the special one?

Reason #3: Building Sacred Connection, One Step at a Time

I’ll admit it, I’m a romantic. But I’ve never thought of myself as unrealistic. I know the kind of love I dream about exists. But I started to wonder: if I want a love that stands apart from the norm, shouldn’t the way I approach it be different too?

At some point last year, I was in a conversation with other women about moving slowly in a relationship. As I listened, something unexpected stirred in me. My eyes welled up, and a thought surfaced that caught me off guard: I don’t believe any man would be willing to go slow with me.

My heart ached; but the moment I heard it in my own mind, I knew it wasn’t true. I believe in men. I trust in the depth of their character, their strength, their capacity for patience and devotion. And yet, somehow, despite all the pro-masculinity work I engage in, this false belief had slipped in unnoticed. A quiet, hidden doubt that told me men wouldn't wait. That they couldn't.

But I know better. I believe better.

The kind of man I envision, the kind of man I know exists, isn't ruled by impulse. He is led by something deeper. And he would see the value in moving slowly, in letting something real unfold over time.

So then I started to dream. What would it be like if sexual intimacy was something that grew with patience? If making out like teenagers had no expectation? If deep trust was built, not just with each other's minds, but with each other's bodies (thereby healing all of that premature penetration)?

Reason #4: Releasing Control and Surrendering to God

As a former controlling, Type-A, Boss Babe hustler, releasing my need for control and fully surrendering to God's will has been an active, years-long effort. Though it hasn’t been easy, everything in my life is more beautiful because of it. I let go of manifestation jargon and the exhausting cycle of constantly trying to get what I wanted. Instead, I chose to rest in the flow of what God wants for me.

A year ago, I would have told you I had laid everything at the feet of God, but in truth, I hadn’t. There was still one tool, one magic go-to that could instantly give me a hit of "love" (really, oxytocin), connection, or validation.

Once again, sex.

Over the years, I had done a lot of negotiating on the subject of sex with God, calling it surrender. But it wasn’t. I hadn’t fully handed it over. I had handed parts of it over.

As much beauty and unforgettable experiences as my past choices had brought me, they hadn’t led to the kind of love I truly desired. And so, I asked myself: What if I try the one thing I never even considered? What if I give it to God entirely?

After deep prayer and reflection, I found myself in my bedroom, speaking vows to God. In that moment, I recognized how, for so much of my life, I had used sex as a tool, a means to an end. And I finally understood that was never what God intended it for.

God wants me to know myself as beloved without any tools. If I didn’t have this attention from men, if I couldn’t use this subtle form of control, would I still believe that I am loved?

Finally, I felt the answer rise within me. Maybe, for me, this is the only way to ensure that.

Reason #5: The God-Filter, Letting Him Lead

I shared my decision with a dear guy friend who grew up with the same “sex-positive” views that I did. Out of pure care, he said, “I just worry for you. I don’t know any guy that would be okay with that.”

I paused. It’s not like I hadn’t thought of this before. But then, I heard a small voice inside say, That’s the point.

I’m not looking for ordinary love.

I believe in a love that calls both people into the highest and fullest versions of themselves. A love that is an alchemizing fire, passionately forging two souls into something even stronger. It’s not always easy, and it’s not always immediately gratifying, but I believe true love is meant to refine us. I don’t expect the man I end up with to necessarily love this decision right away. Heck, I definitely didn’t at first. But if he’s the man God has chosen for me, he’ll know that it’s worth it.

Which brings me to my final point, the big if, and my personal confession. Since I’m being radically honest, I’ll admit that I’ve gotten myself into a world of hurt over the years when it comes to relationships. There’s always been a part of me that whispered, is my “picker” broken? Can I trust myself to choose well?

The truth is, I want God to decide. I want who God wants for me because I know he will be better than I could have dreamt up myself. And in the midst of this decision, I heard God say, this is how you’ll know.

The man who is my husband won’t see this as a deal-breaker. He’ll see it as a gift. He’ll know that if he can have me, if he can have us forever, then waiting will be no sacrifice at all. He’ll move through the God-filter with ease and certainty. It’s the extra layer of clarity and security I didn’t even know I needed.

An Act of Honoring True Love and Intimacy

For most of my life, I believed sex was just something you did: early, often, and without much thought. But through deep healing, self-reflection, and faith, I realized that this approach wasn’t bringing me closer to the kind of love I truly desired. It was keeping me from it.

I don’t regret my past choices, and this decision isn’t about an aversion to sex. It’s about the deepest reverence for it. I know sex to be the height of beauty and intimacy when it’s honored in its rightful place, and I’ve also learned the harm it can do when it’s not.

I’ve chosen to stop having sex until marriage because I want a love built on trust, emotional intimacy, and divine connection. This choice has helped me reclaim my sensitivity and self-worth. It has freed me from using sex as a tool for validation or control and become a spiritual filter, ensuring that the man I marry is truly the one God has chosen for me. 

For the first time, I’m letting love find me the way it was always meant to: not rushed, not forced, not clouded or manipulated, but real. And in fully surrendering, I have never felt more free.