The sin that created the greatest wound in my heart was losing my virginity in my thirties. I had waited that long, and in my age I found myself lacking the wisdom to navigate the challenges we face in modern dating. I fell for the lie that a woman has to have sex in order to find love. It's a prominent lie that Christians need to recognize, especially in a culture where women are criticized for not understanding the world they live in. There is something to be said for age and experience.
Yes, many women are finding themselves in a society where they think they have to have sex in order to be loved. It's easy to assume they should know better if you’ve found love in another manner, or you’ve found a spouse early in life, or you haven't found yourself in the situation of not knowing whether the other person loves you while being hopeful that they do. It's very easy to criticize people for falling to the temptations that weren't put before you, especially when those temptations attack something so very delicate in the human soul.
The OnlyFans model, Lily Phillips, who slept with one hundred men in one day in 2024 did not surprise anyone with her crying due to feeling used after the experience. What she didn't realize, what she was never taught, and what she's never experienced is that she was made with love by love for love.
It was embryonic Christian, Russell Brand, who finally said to her, "You are a child of God. That's what I want to say to you. That you are special, and that you are sacred, and you deserve to be cherished and treasured in every aspect of your life. Do you know that about yourself that you are special?"
The real tragedy is that she, and many of us, don't know what love is, and so we fall for a corrupted view of love. We are taught that it is transactional, and that it requires others to validate and celebrate us, but love is actually not those things.
So What Is Love?
St. Paul defines love in one of the most popular Scripture readings for weddings. He states in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8:
Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.
When I saw that reading next to the statement, “God = Love,” naturally, my brain thought, "MATH!" and I made the substitution. As someone who felt kind of repulsed by that reading because I've never been married, nor have I ever believed I would be married, I suddenly found myself truly appreciating that passage when I substituted the word “love” with “God.”
[God] is patient and kind; [God] is not jealous or boastful; [He] is not arrogant or rude. [God] does not insist on [His] own way; [He] is not irritable or resentful; [He] does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. [God] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. [God] never ends...
I suddenly saw God described in this beautiful passage by St. Paul. Instead of seeing what Christians should aspire to be to each other, and what newlyweds hope to be in their marriage, I saw what God was offering me now.
However, that wasn't exactly the experience I needed to open my heart to God, or to even really begin to understand Him. It took a much more painful experience to deepen my understanding of how He heals my heart. It was one of the most beautiful things I came to know about God.
All Was Taken From Me
In August 2024, after six months of very slowly working my way through the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, I ventured into the exercise on Judgment. None of the other exercises challenged me, although there were most certainly experiences and spiritual fruits. Many, many priests note the impact that the exercise on Hell had on them, but I don't think God wanted me to have that experience. I was incredibly intrigued by St. Ignatius’s description of hell, and in awe of his ability to think of everything awful and disgusting in this world to wrap it in a little box that he called Hell. It was quite extraordinary.
But, Judgment was different. As I entered into the meditation on a topic that I didn't think would really move me, Ignatius suddenly described Jesus as He would be when I stand before Him. And something that I read in St. Augustine's De Trinitate (I:28) describing the Jesus of Judgment came alive in my mind:
It was in the form of a servant that he was crucified, and yet it was the Lord of glory who was crucified…. In the same way we talk of him judging in virtue of his being God...it is that man who is going to judge….Both good and bad, of course, are going to look upon the judge of the living and the dead, but the bad, we may be sure, will only be able to see him in the form by which he is the Son of man, though in the proud splendor…. The form of God, however, in which he is equal to the Father, this the wicked will undoubtedly not see. They are not clean of heart, and Blessed are the clean of heart, because they shall see God (Mt 5:8).
In light of what Augustine described, it was the Son of man Whom I saw in my meditation. Ignatius stripped away my current understanding of Jesus in my daily life:
It is Jesus Christ, once your father, your spouse, your friend, your brother; but who now, forgetting all these titles, is only your judge—and what a judge! A Judge infinitely holy; He has an infinite horror of every sin, however small.
When I read that I was suddenly very distressed! I cried deeply because I felt like I had lost the one person whom I needed more than anything.
In the Spiritual Canticle, St. John of the Cross taught me how to open my heart to God in a way I didn’t know I could, a way I could never open it to another human being; and to open it to God was quite difficult because I was still learning who He was. John of the Cross helped conform my heart to God by teaching me that what I thought was unacceptable through the world's rejection of me, God not only wanted, but required of me in order to experience Him in an increasingly personal way. I was finally free to love!
All the things that Ignatius described as being removed from the Jesus of Judgment were all of the things that I had come to know Him as. And I need those things. I need that Jesus. I can't even begin to accurately state how much I need Him.
Suddenly, thoughts of the day that I lost my virginity came rushing into my mind and my heart. And what I remember from that experience is looking off to the side and battling with what the Catholic Church teaches on sexuality, my complete lack of trust in the Church, and my lack of trust in God whom I didn't even really know.
I always believed in God, and some of the things I said to God throughout my life were quite interesting in that they indicated a need to surrender because I had no idea how to fix my life. It's as if He had given me the grace of faith to keep me within a certain distance of him so that I couldn't stray too far.
However, in this exercise of Judgment, as I relived that experience through my current lens, as I know and love God now, it was incredibly painful. I could see myself sinning against Him all those years ago, only with the feelings I have for Him now. I felt like I had betrayed Him like a loving wife would feel if she betrayed her husband in spite of her love for him! And sudden thoughts of how I could never be pure, how I could never be good enough, especially in the eyes of the Church, came rushing in. And those thoughts plagued me for several days—for a sin I committed 10 years before.
I dealt with those thoughts for many years, especially at times when the Church celebrated a virgin saint, but the assaults increased that day. In my mind, I knew those thoughts were the lies of the devil, but in my heart, I felt the dagger being driven deeper. I sometimes wonder if these types of attacks occur when they occur because the devil knows what God is about to do.
Amidst the theological carrots that were suddenly fed to me that same weekend, I constantly thought about the experience of that spiritual exercise—during my holy hour, during my drive into church, while working. It was always on my mind.
My heart was in so much pain.
Shortly before Judgment, I finished reading Thérèse of Lisieux’s A Story of a Soul, in which she wrote about Jesus sleeping in her boat. I felt like God had filled my boat up with fish, hereby known as "theological carrots." In fact he overfilled it with all sorts of providential actions leading me to answers about some of the biggest theological questions I ask in prayer, and then He started taking a nap.
I thought, “Okay, maybe it's nap time and I'm going to let Him do that,” especially since patience is one of those virtues that is a continuous project for me. It was in later recollection that I saw He was there all along always giving me something. I realized that in tough times, while I may not recognize Him, He actually gets louder.
I thought He was sleeping, but He was raising His voice and waiving His hands! I was seeing and hearing Him, but I was so consumed by my pain that I struggled to truly acknowledge that I was seeing and hearing Him.
Pain Isn't Always Bad
It seems to me that there is spiritual suffering that results not because of spiritual attacks or God withholding His grace, but because God is giving you so much of Himself that it's difficult for you in your current state to receive. I believe this is how He stretches our hearts. And in that pain, it can be an incredibly beautiful experience.
The spiritual exercise on Judgment made me feel like the wife who had betrayed her husband, the wife I mentioned earlier. I wanted so very much to be with Him, but I couldn't. I felt ashamed, and I felt a kind of pain that just seemed to close my heart. Yet it seemed to me that He was like the husband who recognized this pain and just wanted to comfort me. It was in that time that I recognized the incredible tenderness of God's love, except I struggled to receive it.
After about five days, while I was in Adoration, I suddenly realized that I never forgave myself for this sin. I knew that was what I had to do. “I'll do it tomorrow.”
I love silent prayer. I love meditation and contemplation. A lot of my prayer doesn't even involve words. That’s my natural state. However, there are some things that need to be said aloud, and this was one of those things.
The next morning, after praying the Office of Readings, I said, “Okay, it's time to do this. I mustered the courage to say, “I forgive myself.” The problem was that as I heard those words coming out of my mouth, I realized that I didn't forgive myself, that it was impossible for me to do, and those were hollow words, so I immediately went into rapid speech telling God, “I don't forgive myself and I can't forgive myself and this is very difficult for me and in order to do this I need You to help me.”
I couldn’t forgive myself. I needed Him to help me forgive myself.
And that was the last of it.
I can honestly say, since that moment, I feel like He has finally healed me of that sin, He has healed my conscience, and while it was an incredibly emotional, difficult experience, it taught me so much more about who He is in my life. And He freed me.
My journey with Augustine, John of the Cross, and Ignatius over the preceding six months prepared me for that moment when it would all come together in Judgment. In that moment, God gave me the incredible grace to enter into that spiritual exercise in a profound way that began a period of suffering through which He not only healed me, but showed me His tenderness, His care for me.
Why Now?
Why would God wait 10 years to heal me, especially after a period of repenting of all sexual sin? I think it was part of a greater plan that has yet to be fully revealed to me and possibly involves discernment, and so being able to accept and believe that God can restore my purity is necessary for me to believe I am worthy of whatever calling He has in store for me.
And I asked.
Providence's Symphonic Masterpiece
I purchased Fire Within by Fr. Thomas Dubay, which introduced me to Sts. Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, whose collection I bought a few months later. I was drawn to reading Fire Within after hearing a podcast series about it and not really being interested, except a comment in passing on one of the episodes about Teresa’s fourth mansions made me feel like I had to know more. They only mentioned the fourth mansions, and yet I had to know what the fourth mansions were! Bishop Barron also suggested a specific translation of The Confessions, and so I bought that the same day, but put it on the shelf.
Last spring, after reading Fire Within and discovering how the Carmelites loved St. Ignatius, I began working through the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. Ignatius advises beginning each session by asking for intercessory prayers: "Immaculate Mother, St. Joseph, my guardian angel, [insert patron saint here], please intercede for me during this time of prayer/Adoration."
I got stuck. Sadly, I thought, "I don't have a patron saint. How do I figure out who this should be?"
After some research, Fr. Carlos Martins said something that totally made sense to me: "I don't believe you pick your saint. Your saint picks you."
Here I was in my late 40s and my saint hadn't picked me. How does this happen?! Where has this person been all my life?
After searching for advice on how to get my saint to pick me, someone on the Internet suggested the obvious: "Pray to God asking that your saint pursue you."
And so I did.
At the same time, as I was struggling with the insecure feeling of impurity due to my past, I also searched, "How did the saints deal with past sin?"
Everyone recommended The Confessions by St. Augustine. (As a side note, I can assure you that Augustine has written other things.) I bought it a few months before, so I decided to finally read it, and I was hooked. There was something about Augustine that resonated with me. His prayers not only frequently expressed how I felt, but his mind was simply fun for me to experience. There is an obvious compatibility in how we think. And so I made him a placeholder patron saint until I could find the real one.
About the same time, I reached the Song of Solomon in my Bible in a Year schedule. I knew I needed help understanding it, and I knew St. John of the Cross was the man to help. Under the recommendation of another stranger on the Internet, I began reading The Spiritual Canticle, and it began to transform my view of love, especially in relationship to God. God wanted access to those areas of my heart that I kept hidden and locked away from other people, and St. John helped me feel safe in surrendering those areas to God. This is pivotal in my healing.
After finishing The Spiritual Canticle, I returned to Augustine, venturing into De Trinitate. Amidst what some call his most complex and challenging work, I found myself loving Augustine for things like his personality, wit, and frequent comments on the heretics that are incredibly and amusingly relevant to today's online Christian circle.
I finally said yes and accepted Augustine as my patron saint. As Fr. Carlos Martins suggested, I didn’t pick my saint, he picked me, truly by the grace of God.
That was the day I read the Ignatian exercise on Judgment.
TL;DR (Too Long; Didn't Read)
One might say that God spent eight months preparing me for that day when He would release my conscience from my sin. The reality is that there were three major points of conversion for me over the previous three years, with the third being an unexpected radical change.
While we are unique as individuals, our life experiences are varied, and our paths are different, the following are takeaways that should be useful for most.
- Submission & Grace - In 2021, toward the end of the C-lockdowns, I had gone through a cancelation, ended toxic friendships, and was afraid that I wouldn't see a free world again. I suddenly had a hunger for the Eucharist, a sacrament I never truly understood, and was fearful of never having the freedom to receive again. I told God I was afraid and I needed Him to save me. "I cannot live in this world without you." I truly believe He gave me the grace to hunger for the Eucharist so He could draw me back to the Church. It was my authentic recognition that I truly needed Him that set that in motion.
- Practicing the Catholic Faith & Asking God for More - I returned to the Church in 2022 and began attending weekly Mass. I loved Sunday Mass! But I still couldn't wrap my head around the Eucharist. Every Mass, I told God that, when I looked at the Eucharist, I wanted to know with everything that I am that that is Him. (See also: )
- Commitment to Prayer - In 2023, Jesus decided to flip a switch one afternoon and all I could think about was Him (truly an incredible grace). It took me three days to figure out what was happening, but that was when I started going to daily Mass. Over the next six months, He slowly drew me toward the prayer life I am committed to today. Every day, I make a holy hour before Mass, and I show up prepared for silent prayer, Scripture, and spiritual reading. Not all three things happen every day, but I'm prepared. There are now other practices and disciplines, but this is the commitment.
God has blessed me greatly through the above, and it is through this that I've grown in knowledge and experience of Him, but above all, love. I feel more alive than I've ever been (See also:). The spiritual life can be a rollercoaster, and God seems to like to surprise.
My reason for sharing this, though, is that He offers this to everyone. He offers it to you. He invites you into life with Him.
Do you know that about yourself that you are special?
Originally published on X on May 16, 2025. https://x.com/Di_bear/status/1923542002840273025
