I think the next time I date someone I won’t ever shave my legs.
I’ll wrap the hair that falls to my mid-back into a sloppy, messy bun on the top of my head and wear my most loved sweat pants, the ones worn through in the heel with the paint smears all over them- 24/7.
I’ll watch the Notebook and cry my eyes out like I do every time and shamelessly express my love of all that is that beautiful piece of man that is Ryan Gosling. I’ll bring up all the taboo things that our mothers warned us to never talk about and the things that would make the women in my church back home blush: I’d talk about democrats and republicans and how I’m not all that political but I like elephants, so does that make me a Republican? And if you want to get married to your life partner I honestly don’t care because I can date and marry whomever I please and why should that be different if you fell in love with your best friend, too, and your best friend just happens to have the same type of plumbing that you do?
I’ll tell you a lot of the reasons why America isn’t as wonderful as it thinks it is and I’ll emphasise my points with an expletive every now and then because I honestly don’t think my use of those words, now and again, makes me any less of a lady or any less of a Christian.
I’ll talk about that time I got drunk and how much sex-shaming in the church pisses me off.
I’ll dare the average person to talk about their feelings on sex because we all have them.
Even the private-Christian-College, never-dated-before individuals.
I’ll talk about sex because we should be ashamed that we don’t as often as we should.
I’ll talk about all of the things that you aren’t supposed to to a man not intimidated my a woman with an opinion, a woman in college, a woman who isn’t ashamed to say what she means and talk about sex and pot and politics and also be passionately in love with Jesus. I will talk about all of these things and he won’t be afraid because do you want to know the truth? The next time I fall in love I don’t want to have to dress nicely all the time. I don’t want to exchange social niceties about the weather or the beauty of whatever city/restaurant we find ourselves in. I don’t want to talk about college or being on the dean’s list fall quarter or my really solid group of friends. Because I don’t want to be loved for all the things about me and my life that are good.
We should love people not when they are messy but because they ARE messy. I don’t want to draw someone in with my shaved legs and my long wavy hair and my laugh that I think is too loud but have been told is endearing. I want to be loved because I am messy: because my parents got divorced when I was six and I haven’t quite looked at marriage the same way since then. Because I spent so much of two summers ago so wasted because I couldn’t bare the emotional pain that came from my brother dying. Because I struggle with letting men into my life because I dated a guy in high school who hit me a couple of times and I just want to be seen.
Within this mess.
Within my opinions and no I really don’t care if you agree. Within my hate of anti-gay slurs and my love of my black, hispanic, and asian friends. With my irritation with the laziness that has been accepted as the norm amongst the American people. With my mistakes: parties, boys: So many nights waking up with a hangover not knowing who I’d kissed the night before. I want someone to see that mess, to take it and unpack it with me: article by painful, embarrassing, and difficult article and to say: alright now show me how this has helped you to become.
How hidden we are with our messes. Our charades as the perfect students, the pristine daughters, the virginal Christians. How our hiddenness only fuels our brokenness and how I am so sick of that.
If you’re going to fall in love with me or befriend me in this life, know this: I will not hide my brokenness. I will not tell you I am okay when I am not. When a Christian circle talks and no Jesus is not going to hate me because of it.
Yes. The next time I fall in love I am going to be messy.
Because it is through the messiest, dirtiest things that we are redeemed and made new.