Lori Borgman at Jewish World Review penned a haunting look at the price children pay for their mothers' willingness to tolerate anything, just to have a man, any man, even a slimebag man, in their lives.
I once listened to a tape of a National Abortion Federation meeting -- nurses fretting about how to get women to follow up on aftercare. The biggest problem was getting the women to abstain from sex for six weeks while they healed -- or to at least have their "partners" use a condom. But, the nurses commiserated, these women were in "relationships" with men who would not tolerate "No." (Isn't that rape?) Men who refused to wear condoms. Men who were festering ambulatory petri dishes of STDs because they were having sexual relations with every woman they could bully into putting out. According to the Centers for Disease Control, 82% of abortions are performed on unmarried women. How many of them are aborting to keep these "boyfriends" happy? The same "boyfriends" who are only too happy to keep them in an endless cycle of desperate unprotected sex, abortions, and life-endangering STDs?
Dr. Laura asked, "Is a woman just a wo-wo-wo on a man?" Evidently even the "wo-wo-wo" isn't necessary. He doesn't have to be Prince Charming. Any toad will do. As long as he has the Y chromosome, he'll suffice.
Why are so many women willing to sacrifice their self-respect, their bodies, their health, their children, just to have a man? And what men! Men that any reasonable community would tar, feather, and run out of town on a rail.
This is the end result of the Sexual Revolution, which holds that our best and highest calling is to capitulate to the urge every time our hormones tell us to rut. Or, in the case of these women, to capitulate to the man's urges every time his hormones tell him to rut. Human bonds of love fall by the wayside. The hunger for something more is denegrated. It's puritanical. It's old-fashioned. It's Ward and June. It's turning back the clock. It's unrealistic.
It's doable. And it's worth it.
P.S.: I'm not saying this from the comfortable ivory tower of a happy marriage. I've been divorced for about sixteen years now, and walked the chastity line since I became a Christian some thirteen years ago. I fell off that line a couple of times early on, picked myself back up, and have managed to tell my hormones and loneliness where to get off for eight or nine years now. It's doable. But it's an uphill climb in a society that treats you like a freak for even trying. Chastity isn't easy. We need to stop making it needlessly harder.
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