Intimacy and Faith
The Struggle to Embrace Chastity
We first met in high school 38 years ago and reconnected after my recent breakup. As we shared our past experiences, we realized how much we had in common. We discovered similar values and goals and found a renewed sense of hope and joy in each other.
She is a "cradle Catholic," having been born and raised in the faith, though she had only attended Mass periodically and hadn’t actively practiced it for decades. The first time she returned to church more intentionally was when she invited me on one of our first dates, and my enthusiastic response rekindled something in her. As she resumed her faith journey and I began learning more about mine, we had many discussions.
During one conversation, I asked why she doesn’t participate in communion, curious about her reasons. She explained that she couldn’t receive communion because it would require her to first go to confession, something she hadn't done in a while. I sensed a mixture of hesitation and perhaps a bit of discomfort in her voice as she spoke about it.
Having recently come to understand the central importance of communion, I wanted to be supportive, so I encouraged her to consider going to confession. I shared how much I was looking forward to receiving communion myself, should I join the Church, viewing it as a source of grace and spiritual nourishment.
She responded that she didn’t feel she could genuinely repent, knowing she would likely continue to sin, and felt it would make a mockery of confession. I suggested that receiving communion might give her the strength to avoid sin. She then pointed out that avoiding sin would directly affect both of us, and that we needed to make this decision together. That’s when I finally understood what she meant.
Our relationship, as it stood, was an obstacle to her receiving communion.
I proposed chastity. I had no idea how difficult that would be.
The mainstream view is that a healthy sex life is important for a relationship, and I tend to agree. In that sense, my girlfriend and I are very healthy. We both want to continue developing our spiritual lives, but we also want to maintain our intimacy. So, I proposed chastity. I had no idea how difficult that would be.
Chastity (as understood by the Church) is a matter of striving to conform, without resentment, one’s heart and mind to the authorship of God in terms of sexuality. 1
We had many fears and insecurities about choosing chastity. Sex had been a natural and important way for us to express our love and feel intimately connected. Without that physical expression, we worried that our relationship might lose some of its closeness and warmth. There was also the fear of growing apart, wondering if we could maintain the same level of emotional intimacy without a sexual connection.
We both grappled with the idea that, as adults, we should be able to have sex without feeling guilt or shame. It felt almost childish to think that we needed to deny ourselves something so natural and enjoyable. Yet, despite these fears, we were both drawn to the idea of aligning our relationship more closely with our spiritual beliefs and striving for something greater together.
At times, the weight of our decision feels almost unbearable, and the struggle to remain chaste seems overwhelming, making it feel more like a burden than a pursuit of a higher good. On those days, I find myself praying the Act of Contrition, feeling like an ashamed child, yet experiencing a sense of relief once the prayer is over. We spend a lot of time discussing our relationship and our goals, being open and vulnerable with each other. These honest conversations have allowed us to forge a new kind of intimacy, one built on trust, shared faith, and a mutual desire to grow together spiritually. I’ve come to understand that these struggles are not setbacks but essential parts of our journey, pushing us to deepen our faith and our connection with each other.
Chastity, I’ve learned, is less about abstaining and more about striving to focus on a higher good. While this understanding doesn’t make the practice any easier, it becomes more manageable when I focus on the goal of helping her receive communion. If I concentrate solely on controlling my own desires, I often fail quickly and easily. Instead, thinking of chastity as a shared spiritual journey allows me to find strength in our commitment to each other and to God.
She has managed to go to confession and receive communion a few times, but our fears and insecurities remain. Changing deeply ingrained habits, especially those rooted in our most basic instincts, is incredibly challenging, perhaps even impossible. Yet, each time we falter and find our way back, I feel a renewed sense of hope, a deeper connection with her, and a stronger belief that we are moving in the right direction.
Like Mary, we hold on to the promises, even though we don’t yet know how we will reach them.
"And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord." Luke 1:45 (NRSVCE)
Do you have any advice for those of us who are not so young but still in love? How do you manage the balance between honoring your spiritual commitments and fulfilling personal desires in your relationships?