Extended Thoughts on Coitus and Consent

Tonight I joined director Therese Shechter for a Q&A following a screening of her kickass documentary How to Lose Your Virginity. As is often true when I answer questions regarding my thoughts on sex, virginity, and everything in-between, I always wish I could have said more. But we had limited time, and I didn't want to drone on and on with my Christian feminist bisexual former virgin wisdom. 

Luckily I have a blog, so I can expand upon a few of my points!

Healthy, Consensual Sexual Relationships

As is probably apparent in my blog, promoting consent is my feminist passion. A discussion about what is sex, what is virginity, how do I define my sexual relationships is irrelevant without first establishing consent. Consent is necessary for every step in a sexual relationship (and as I've discussed before, nonverbal consent counts), from kissing to sexy touching all the way to coitus or kink.

But the conversations that Therese and I hope to inspire regarding attitudes of the female body and female sexuality also include consent. By challenging the idea that a woman's body is not her own, that her sexuality is nonexistent, we also promote the idea that a woman must consent to sex. When women have sexual agency, consent becomes a necessary part of the conversation. 

While male virginity is not the focus on the documentary, it is an important topic under the conversation about masculinity. When masculinity is no longer tied to sexual prowess, they will be more free to pursue healthy, consensual sexual relationships.

Self-Labels and the Limitations of Language

I think it's very important to accept labels that people choose for themselves. That said, we should choose our labels carefully, and we should also acknowledge how limited they are. Prior to marriage, I used the label "virgin" to describe myself, primarily because I placed value on my decision to save coitus for marriage. Once I discovered the French phrase "demi-vièrge," I preferred to use it. 

But whatever labels work for you or for me, one label doesn't provide moral superiority. My sexual choices are NOT tied into my goodness as a person, my integrity, or my morality. (Except for the choice to ONLY engage in consensual sexual activities, obviously).

Multiple Virginities 

What's great about changing the conversation regarding virginity is the acknowledgement of all sexual milestones. Especially for LGBTQ+ people.

I married my first boyfriend. I never had a chance to have sex with a woman. In a way, I will always be demi-vièrge, because I've never had any sort of sex, by any definition (except French-kissing), with a woman. 

I know I haven't blogged much about being bisexual. It's honestly something that I'm still working through myself, especially since I'm not out to my family, Beau's family, and most of my friends. 

But my attraction to women is important to me. It is part of who I am. 

The decision to be in a monogamous relationship with Beau is important to me. Our marriage is part of who we are. 

So while demi-vièrge is an imperfect label, it continues to reflect my sexuality and my sexual choices. 

What do you want to add to the conversation about sex and virginity?

In a Sex-Saturated Society, Honest Discussions of Healthy Sexuality are Stifled

Most of the time I blog in this Christian feminist bubble of sex-positivity and critiques of purity culture, so sometimes I forget that not everyone associates virginity with religious values or patriarchy.

But three things happened to my blog recently that reminded me that with everything wrong about proponents of purity culture, they make at least one good point:

Feminists make this point too, but I try to find common ground with everyone for the greater good.

FACEBOOK

I recently got a custom url for my facebook page. I tried to choose the url facebook.com/FindingMyVirginity. But when I tried it, this is what happened.

On the off chance that someone else had already taken the url, I tested it, but the url only took me to a page saying it didn't exist or had been moved. 

For whatever reason, a custom url with the word "virginity" in it is not okay with facebook. I had to settle for the French form of virginity.

Have you liked me on facebook yet? 

New custom url is https://www.facebook.com/FindingMyVirginite

 BLOGLOVIN

I was recently looking at my profile on bloglovin when I noticed that the dropdown box prompted me to "Claim my blog." Since I had already claimed my blog about a year prior, I was confused. I searched for my blog, and nothing came up. So I contacted Bloglovin's support, and this is the response I received. 

So yes, you can still follow me on bloglovin, but no one can search for my blog on their website. 

Email

I received this gem in my inbox.

I guess I should be happy that it's taken almost three years of blogging about sex and virginity via a Christian feminist lens for someone to sexually harass me via email?

No matter how hard I try, I can't always escape the prude/slut dichotomy. Just the other day, I wrote that my blog is not porn, and yet I'm being treated as though it is.  

Women's sexual autonomy, even the choice not to have sex, has been distorted into male fetish. 

And just like women who are called sluts and whores when men are called studs and players, those of us who write candidly about our own sexuality must be punished. 

Girlhood is becoming more and more sexualized, but when teenage girls absorb those messages and try to be "sexy," we judge them for leading teenage boys astray. 

Add in abstinence-only education and church lectures about dirty roses, and suddenly we're stuck in the cesspool of fucked-up American attitudes towards female sexuality. Oh, and don't forget the stubborn insistence that a woman's "first time" MUST BE PAINFUL OR ELSE!

But I won't be silenced. I won't be shamed for writing honestly about sex and virginity. I stand by both my sexual choices and my decision to share them with the world. I am SO OVER the male gaze and the paternalistic control of female sexuality, and my blog is my small attempt to change that. 

To write about women's sexual choices from an actual woman's perspective, not a man's creepy or controlling vision of slutty virgins. To be an advocate for healthy sexual relationships. To share medically-accurate information about sex. 

While keyword-filters might dismiss my blog as pornographic, I hope that you do not. I encourage you to share this post if you agree that women should be free to make their own consensual sexual choices. 

I Was a Virgin on My Wedding Night--The Best and Worst Thing for My First Year of Marriage (A Guest Post)

I am THRILLED to feature a guest post by the Vintage Housewife herself. Christine and I are basically opposites, except for that whole "saving sex for marriage thing," but we totally respect our differences. She has undertaken the unique project of learning what housekeeping was like in the 1950s, straight from vintage guides themselves! You gotta respect a woman who understands the importance of primary sources. Today she's writing about one of the failures of purity culture--the lack of frank discussions about sex. Just a gentle reminder to my readers that I actively seek out guest writers with opinions different from my own. I absolutely love what Christine has written today, and I'm honored to feature her on my blog.

I was a virgin on my wedding night, and a pretty “virginal” one at that.  My new husband and I had never seen each other naked or done any of the activities that would follow that step (blow jobs, hand jobs, etc.), so most sexual activities were new to us in this union of “Holy Matrimony.”  The main factor for us in this decision was religious reasons – we felt that God wanted us to be as pure as possible for our wedding night.

Looking back, this is one of the best decisions my husband and I made in our relationship, and we both agree on that.  There would have been a lot of guilt and resentment if we would have gone against our consciences to do something we knew was wrong.  It was definitely the right decision for us, so perhaps the “worst” part of this title is a little misleading.  The reason why I put that there, however, is because being a “hard-core virgin” on my wedding night presented some problems for my marriage that I never anticipated.  I wish that people would warn other dating, abstinent Christians of these things.  They need some sort of disclaimer, like, “This is what’s right, and it will be very advantageous to your relationship, but here is what you’re going to struggle with because of this choice.”  I’ll go through the pros and cons of our decision so you can see what we went through on the “other side” of that magical wedding night – we are now almost four years into a happy, fulfilling marriage, so I think I have some authority to speak on the topic. 

BEST THING EVER 

(I’ll gloss over these quickly because they’re the ones that are preached to everyone on “why to remain abstinent”).

1.        An obvious benefit of being virgins on your wedding night is that neither of you have been with anyone else.  You don’t have to worry about being compared and thinking, “Oh no, am I the best he ever had?  Does he regret this decision?  Am I good enough?”  He has nothing to compare it to, so you’re obviously the best.

2.       Beyond the comparison issue, neither of you bring the emotional baggage that comes with having multiple sex partners.  Any exes are pretty PG, so no one has to harbor the anger and jealousy that can come with the thought of your partner being with someone else. 

3.       STDs are clearly not going to be an issue.

4.       Saving yourself for marriage builds a lot of self-control, and this is a quality that carries over into the marriage realm too.  I’m not worried that my husband will cheat on me.  I’m sure that this is mostly because we’re in a good relationship, however I also know that if he were ever tempted to stray, he has the self-control to “keep it in his pants” and not just go with how he’s feeling in a moment.  It takes strength to be passionately with someone for years and not sleep with them just because you don’t believe it is right.  That strength we built is useful in other areas of our marriage too.

WORST THING EVER 

(I’ll go into a little more detail on these, because I don’t feel like people talk about them enough).

1.       There is a huge mental/emotional block that comes with suddenly becoming sexually active.  There is nothing else on earth that is completely forbidden one second, and then with a few “I do’s,” it’s suddenly not only permissible, but essential to the health of your relationship.  That is super strange.  I was supposed to be “pure pure pure” one night and then a veritable porn star the next.  That’s impossible.  I definitely struggled with this.  For a long time, sex felt “dirty,” and I felt guilty for doing it even though I knew it was okay.  I really blame society for this: they’ve set up this virgin/whore dichotomy where women can’t be righteous in God’s eyes and still enjoy a healthy sexuality.  Why is this?  The Bible is full of sensuality (Um.  Have you read Song of Solomon?), but I couldn’t seem to grasp that concept.  For the first few months of our marriage, that made me feel like an extremely inadequate wife.  My husband is great and was obviously more than understanding (after all, guys are “supposed” to be sexual, so he didn’t really have the same block but understood why I did), but I still felt like such a loser for not being able to do an instantaneous mind switch on this topic.

2.       For a while, you’ll have no idea what you’re doing.  People make jokes about “awkward honeymoon sex,” but for real – it’s so strange.  I mean, prior to my wedding night, no one had seen me naked since I was in diapers.  Now I was supposed to confidently stride around a honeymoon suite naked and jump my new husband every chance I had?  Weird.  Also, there’s just the mechanics of sex in general.  I realize that sex itself isn’t that difficult (after all, teenagers do it), but I would argue that good sex takes time to figure out.  Especially when I’d never “explored myself” or my husband prior to this – how were we supposed to know what felt good and what didn’t?  In short, we didn’t know.  So we just kept trying different stuff.  The awkwardness is cute on the honeymoon, like, “Oh, look at us, so new to all this…ha ha ha!” but as the months roll by and orgasms aren’t easy and mind-blowing, frustration sets in.  It starts to cause tension – is something wrong with me?  Him?  Both of us?  Do we “practice” more often or just give up for a while?  And it can cause division in your relationship.  Sex was the #1 reason my husband and I fought in our first year of marriage, which is something I never would have expected!  Fights about sex?  What?  But apparently that’s one of the top two causes of marital discord in the country (the other one is finances).

3.       The idea of “sexual compatibility” is pretty deceiving.  This one will link to #2.  People talk about making sure that you’re “sexually compatible” with your partner prior to marrying them, and this was something I struggled with a lot at the beginning.  I felt that if two people were “sexually compatible,” then they would quickly understand each other’s preferences and rhythms (because theirs were the same, right?), and sex would become mind-blowingly fantastic after a handful of tries.  When sex wasn’t instantly amazing, I started to wonder if maybe my husband and I weren’t “sexually compatible.”  That was frustrating.  I would never cheat on him, obviously, but I started to wonder if maybe I had given up a chance for better sex by marrying him.   I wondered if maybe I should have slept with more people to learn who was really best in bed.  Ugh – I feel so horrible even typing those words because they’re so ridiculous and selfish, but that’s how I felt.  I’m sure other new brides have felt this way too.  Now, four years in, I can say that our sex life has gotten consistently better from Day 1 until now, and I anticipate it will continue to get better in the future.  It’s not about finding the person who knows all of your exact sexual preferences immediately; it’s about finding someone who is so emotionally and mentally committed to you that they’re willing to put in the work to learn what you like and do it for you.  That’s going to produce some amazing sex.

Being virgins on our wedding night has, overall, been a great choice for my husband and me.  I just wish I would have known the struggles that come along with that decision before I made it.  It wouldn’t have changed my decision, but it would have made me more ready for my first year of marriage, and it would probably have saved some fights.  I think I had this subconscious notion that because I was doing things “God’s way” that He would bless me instantly with amazing sex.  That’s not really a mature viewpoint, but it’s one that I think a lot of romance-stricken abstinent Christian have.  “It will be different for us” or “We know each other so well…it will be amazing.”  I’m sure that’s true for some people, and good for them.  For the other 99% of us, though, I want people to know that there are struggles with getting used to your new sex life, but that going through those experiences with your new spouse brings you closer together and ultimately will produce a great sex life – just maybe not on Night Three of your honeymoon.

Beau and I just finished up Night Three of our honeymoon last night! This post has obviously been scheduled in advance, and no, I am not interrupting my steady stream of sex, sleep, alcohol, books, and the beach to update my blog. So here's hoping that all our preparation got us ready for great sex! If not, Christine is right. We  have the rest of our lives to communicate our desires and become closer every day.

5 Things to Think About Before Having Sex

I hope no one took my post last week seriously. I forgot to use my favorite sarcasm font when writing it.

I obviously have a huge problem with abstinence-only education. I’m totally okay with parents or churches teaching teenagers their values about sex within the confines of marriage, but I don’t think a public school’s responsibility is religious, moral education.

That said, I’ve always supported sex (and abstinence) as a personal choice. Whether you’re thinking about having sex for the first time or the 100^th time, reflect on these five factors.

Birth Control

via

If you’re thinking about having sex, especially for the first time, I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re not currently ready to be a parent. Have you educated yourself on the different forms of contraception? Their pros and cons? Here in the United States, the only reasonably inexpensive and fairly reliable form of contraception is condoms. The Pill and other hormonal forms of contraception can be both cost-prohibitive* and age-prohibitive. Have you and your partner discussed your preferred method of birth control? Do you trust your partner to use contraception correctly? This is a legitimate concern to have before having intercourse for the first time, or with a new partner for the first time.

For the Woman I Used to Be

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Sunday Shoutouts: Happy New Year!

I skipped Sunday Secrets Shoutouts (oops, I was tired when I wrote this) last week. Beau and I spent the weekend in his hometown, hanging out with his high school and college friends who were all in town for the holidays. Beau has AWESOME friends, and I regret that we don't get to see his oldest friends more often. Sunday we went to the art museum in his hometown. While I definitely enjoyed it, I was bummed that their ONE painting by Monet was on loan. It was a busy weekend, lots of fun, but blogging just wasn't a priority. 

But it's a new year! And my first Sunday Shoutouts of 2014! I read tons of great posts this past week, and I can't wait to share them all.

Most Inspirational New Year post: I didn't make any "normal" resolutions this year, and the two that I did make I'm keeping private. I LOVE what Lindsay did in lieu of a normal resolution, over at Trial By Sapphire. She chose a word to live by in 2014. So original! And the word she chose is so great I might just steal it for myself... But you'll have to read the post itself to find out!

Most Reasonable New Year post: I might join Elle Sees in her resolutions this year. Last year, she did a mini resolution every week! And before that, she did a different one every month. This year, she's changing it up once again. 

Bravest post: Newer readers might not know this, because I don't bring it up often, but I'm bisexual. One of the Christian feminist bloggers I follow started the new year by coming out as queer, being somewhere in-between straight and lesbian. It's a beautiful, honest post, and I highly encourage everyone to read it.

If you missed it, check out my review of my blog in 2013.

What did you read this week?

Virginia is for Lovers: A Guest Post

The last of my guest posts this week! I have honestly been so amazed at these three women and their willingness not just to write for me, but to open up to me and my readers. Samantha Field writes about her experiences with Christian fundamentalism, Modesty Rules and purity culture at Defeating the Dragons. Y'all might remember that I've quoted from her before in my own modesty posts. She's a gigantic geek with an unabashed love for all things sci-fi/fantasy and steampunk. She also gets bounce-off-the-walls excited about feminism and theology. Aka we're kindred spirits.

We had walked around historic downtown for a few hours when we decided to just stop for a while. A granite bench, under a blossoming cherry tree, overlooking the river, called to us—it couldn’t get much more perfect. We sat, soaked up the sun, and just . . . talked. We asked about each other’s families, told some of our funniest stories, but the silence—the silence was the best. I reveled in soaking up the sun, enjoyed feeling my tense muscles melt and all the pressures of grad school slide away.

Suddenly, a spring breeze picked up and rushed through the cherry blossoms, swirling thousands of petals around us. I could feel them landing in my hair, floating over my skin. I gasped, startled by the beauty, and turned to see Handsome’s reaction. With cherry blossom petals flying everywhere he reached out, touched his fingertips under my chin, and pulled me toward him. For a moment that felt like it stretched into infinity, I could feel his heat, his fingertips on my skin.

We kissed.

And I shattered.

For the rest of the day, the only thing I could think about was his kiss. It was gentle, and wonderful, and overwhelming. I could close my eyes and be consumed. I could get lost in everything he made me feel. The only words I had were things like magical, and that felt, ridiculous, but it fit somehow. I was giddy.

I’d only ever been in one other serious relationship—a relationship that had left me broken and bleeding. It had been three years filled with every kind of abuse possible, and had convinced me that I was broken. I thought of myself as frigid, as asexual. I wasn’t interested in that—the very idea of kissing someone twisted my stomach into knots. For years, I cringed at the idea of being touched. All my girlhood day dreams of being held and cuddled had evaporated over three brutal years.

When Handsome kissed me. . . . everything changed. Everything inside fluttered, and I could feel sparklers under my skin. I was excited, and for the first time, I wanted more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Top 5 Reasons I Am Not a Lifestyle Blogger

A very welcome BONJOUR, Y’ALL to the friends of Casey who might be reading my blog for the first time. I’m very excited to be “sponsoring” y’all know that’s just a fancy blogger word for advertising Casey again this month. I loved working with her before, and when she announced her new format, featuring just two bloggers a week, I knew I had to paste my button to her sidebar once again.

I haven’t read the glowing review Casey gave me just yet, I’m assuming it’s glowing but y’all probably figured out at some point that my blog isn’t exactly like other blogs.

The all-encompassing word for all-encompassing blogs is lifestyle. Not quite a fashion blogger, not quite a beauty blogger, not quite a insert-faith-group-here blogger… When you blog about it all, you’re a lifestyle blogger.

That’s not me.

I'm the blogger who tries to take a picture with every bronze animal at every zoo.

I mean, yeah, sometimes I blog about clothes and nail polish. Sometimes I blog about my faith. I definitely blog about my relationship. These are characteristics of lifestyle bloggers, right?

Except that’s so not me. In fact, I’ve even compiled a list of why I’m totally not a lifestyle blogger.

Blogoversary: Two Years of Finding My Virginity

Two years and one day ago, I styled my hair a new way.

Today I twist my hair up like that several times a week.

Two years and one day ago, I wore a new black dress with purple flowers.

Today that dress is too big for me, but it hangs in my closet for curvier days ahead.

Two years ago, I had my shared apartment to myself because Lauren was out of town.

Today Lauren and I have our own apartments down the street from each other.

Two years ago, I drank 3-4 cans of Diet Coke with Lime a day.

Today I drink 3-4 cans of Diet Coke, sometimes with Lime, a week.

One year and one day ago, I said good-bye to my family in the South and moved to the Midwest.

Today I’ve lived in the same city, without interruption, for the longest amount of time since graduating high school.*

One year ago, I wrote the scariest post I’d ever written.

Today I take the first step to losing my anonymity.**

Taking selfies without showing my face is HARD, y'all!

My reasons for anonymity are legit. I think wanting to discuss sensitive topics like sex and sexuality with complete honesty is difficult without anonymity. I mostly read lifestyle blogs, and y’all don’t talk about sex. Like, ever. Which is totally fine and your prerogative and I respect that decision completely, because sex is personal. But I can’t talk about virginity without talking about sex, and I don’t know if I could have maintained this blog for the last two years if my parents, former professors, colleagues, etc. had been reading it.

But anonymity is tiring. I think twice before I tweet about what I’m doing. Does this refer to my location? I crop all my photos. How much of my face can I reveal before it identifies me too much? I have to keep track of pseudonyms for every single person in my life. I was hanging out with Hardy and Lauren, and damn it, where’s my list of best friends? What do I call… James, that’s it. I call him James.

And I write and write and write. I tweet and tweet and tweet. I comment everywhere. I buy ads on other blogs. I’m myself. I’m authentic. I paid for a blog design. I do all that stuff I’m supposed to do to build blog traffic, and it’s not enough. 

Look at my new button on Casey's blog!

<center> <a href="http://www.findingmyvirginity.com/"><br><img src="http://i1167.photobucket.com/albums/q633/belle_vierge/fcebc759-3ed1-4f8f-92c4-0a099a67497e.jpg" border="0"/><br></a></center>

Because the people who know me IRL aren’t allowed to post my blog to facebook, or link it to any mutual friends. Because I can’t ask my friends and family to like my facebook page.

Because the network I have who comment all over my personal facebook wall, who send me links to articles on sexual assault and modesty culture and France and women’s history, who email me to thank me for the work I do, who ask me if I blog, who share all over the place the tiny handful of public writing I do…

They have no idea Belle Vierge exists. Or if they’ve stumbled across her (this happened once), they don’t realize Belle is me.

But as much as I want to shed my cloak of anonymity and shout to the rooftops that I’m happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time, I’m not there yet.

I don’t really think my parents should find out I’m bisexual via a blog post, nor do I think it’s right or fair to attach H’s name to his assholery. And those of you who do know me IRL, and those of you who I met here who have discovered my real name, I think y’all will agree that my first name is unique. Unique enough that fear of discovery by future potential employers is a legitimate concern.

Seriously, if you google my first and last name, you find results for three people. That’s it. I share my name with a lawyer and with a photographer. Also my firstnamelastname.com domain name has already been taken, alas.

I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few weeks thinking about this post. Planning what I would write. And I should note, for the record, that I’m writing this the actual evening of July 30, 2013, still torn on what to reveal of myself while still allowing the freedom to be myself.

I realized I’m not so worried about people finding my blog and realizing it’s me as I am people knowing who I am, looking me up online, and discovering my blog. The first involves searching for certain qualities and associating them with me. The latter is only knowing me or my name and suddenly discovering some rather strong opinions and personal information.

So here are some things 

I never directly mentioned before.

My Bikini Answer: Sexual Attraction is not Lust

Beau is a very supportive boyfriend. Not only does he not mind me writing all about our love and non-sex sex life on the Internet, but he reads all of my blog posts faithfully. He then gives me feedback on my writing. Sometimes he points out the occasional typo, but mostly he just tells that me I'm a wonderful writer, and that he'll happily be a SAHD in the future when I'm a world-famous author. 

A few weeks ago, I wrote about going to the pool with Beau and my besties, Hardy and Lauren. Who love the nicknames I gave them, by the way. Beau read it while we were skyping, and then this conversation happened.

Beau: Well... I definitely noticed Lauren in a bikini.

Me: But you weren't lusting after her.

Beau: Uhh...

Me: Were you thinking of her as a sexual object who only existed for your pleasure?

Beau: No.

Me: You just noticed that my best friend is hot and looks good in a bikini?

Beau: Yes.

Me: That's not lust, babe. In fact, I think my next bikini post will be on the differences between attraction and lust.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Modesty culture does not distinguish between healthy, biological sexual attraction and unhealthy, objectifying lust. As usual, I am not the first to write about this, and I do want to acknowledge what else has already been eloquently stated on this topic. However, I also want to differentiate even further and consider appreciation, attraction, and lust as three distinct reactions to a bikini-clad body (or really, any "attractive" human being).

Appreciation: Good-looking people are not all identical. Obviously beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that, but even if you look at a sampling of Beautiful People, they are not all the same. Brad Pitt is conventionally attractive. So are Will Smith, Orlando Bloom, Patrick Dempsey, Ryan Gosling, etc. I look at all of these men and acknowledge they are Beautiful People. But I'm personally not attracted to all of them. They are not all My Type. I appreciate all their good looks, but I am not attracted to all their good looks. If you've ever told your best friend how hot she looks, or your younger brother how handsome he is (and you weren't lying to be nice), then you understand. You can appreciate someone's attractiveness without being attracted to that person. 

Just for the record, this is me with the majority of my female friends. (The majority of my male friends too, for that matter). Just because I'm attracted to women, and I think my female friends are attractive, does NOT mean I'm automatically attracted to all my female friends.

Sexual Attraction: When I see Will Smith or Orlando Bloom, I get these feelings. Physical feelings. And when I see Beau, especially when he's looking at me in that way, these physical feelings are like a tingling sensation all over my body, but especially in my lady bits. This is sexual attraction. It is a natural, biological response. In fact, it is a natural, God-given response. If we never felt sexual attraction, we wouldn't want to have sex. If we never had sex, we could never procreate. And God's most awesome creation would have ended at Adam and Eve.*

via

Lust: I am guilty of lust. Yes, women are capable of lust. When I go to tumblr and look at photo sets of Naya Rivera, which are often collections that focus just on her perfect tits or splendid ass, I am lusting after her. I am not seeing Naya Rivera as a talented, kind-hearted person worthy of dignity and respect.** I am looking at her body and thinking about how much I enjoy it. I am objectifying her. This is lust, and this is the sin God calls us to avoid.