Be Your Own Pet.

My mother and I hardly talk about boys, even though we’re pretty close. And so recently, it was a rare privilege for me to be able to engage in a few minutes of civil discourse with her over the subject of dating.

It has always fascinated me that my mother has extremely low libido, even through her teenage years (or so she claims). She has always insisted that she never had any problems with boys whatsoever during her school years, and that she never had crushes nor dated. How efficient. And she expects me to do the same. According to her, such complications only arose when she hit the ripe old age of 25. It makes me secretly wonder if my mother was a butch when she was younger (after all, she was a competitive netballer). Okay I’m just kidding. Of course she wasn’t a butch.

Respectfully bearing in mind my mother’s stand on boys, (“You are a Christian girl. God will keep you safe from such things”) I quietly kept all my messy hormonal adventures (or rather, misadventures) to myself. We remained as close as ever, but I just had to improve on my secret-hoarding skills. And improve they did.

I am very proud to say that as of 12 July 2009, my mother still thinks that I am “safe” from “such things”. I am also very pleased with myself for that. Just about a month ago, when I was marking the 17^th year of my existence, the both of us were taking stock of my life and it slowly evolved to the subject of dating.

“See mum, I’ve been such a good daughter. I never gave you boy trouble,” I said teasingly.

Her expression changed. Somehow she clearly felt uncomfortable but had to say something anyway: “Of course, you’re baptized in Christ. He will keep you safe.”

“What if I get a boyfriend now?”

“It just shows that you have strayed. You have become distracted. Good girls don’t do such things.”

“So I can become a nun, then?”

“No I didn’t raise you to become a nun. I will not allow that.”

“So you want me to live like a nun without becoming a nun.”

“What I’m saying is, God will provide you with a companion when you are in university. He will be intelligent and holding a good job. Or else, you will find your future husband in Church. I hope you date that altar server, the one who won the “Altar Server of the Year” award. He looks so holy and righteous.”

“Mum, that altar server wants to become a priest.”

“Then find another altar server. Oh, and put your sons in servers too…”

And so there ended the longest conversation I ever had with her on dating. And her instructions were very clear.

The thing is, my dear mother does not understand that most (but not all, I hope) males in church are no better than males out-of-church when it comes to serial dating. As one friend put it: “Don’t ever date a server. They are players.”

I think it’s in times like these that my mother and I revolve in different solar systems. While my mother’s advice is very entertaining, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe in restricting a relationship to a specific time/place. Or in my case, to a specific altar server.

What I do believe in is letting God take control of what happens or doesn’t. I’m pretty sure God isn’t going to cast me into the pits of hell for lusting over a guy, or for dating a player. I can get a guy’s number and seek him out; but what happens after that is beyond my control. I can date all I want and get my heart trampled; but I know that at the end of the day He will be there listening to my rants.

So dear mum, thank you for your advice. However I don’t think the birds and the bees are about university guys or church guys or what-have-you.

I think it’s about living and learning. The practical way.