My Celibacy Journey: Setting Boundaries and Trusting God
A Journey Marked by Tears: My Walk with Celibacy, Grace, and God
Today, I want to open up about something that’s been a big part of my walk with God, celibacy.
I’m not here as an expert, but as someone who’s wrestled, fallen, wept, and risen again always by God’s grace. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that celibacy is less about rules and more about relationship. Less about “don’t do this” and more about “come closer to Me.”
And I’ll be real: I’m not here presenting myself as an expert. What’s helped me stay celibate has been God’s grace. That’s it. Not rules. Not willpower. Not perfection. Just grace. It’s been God, His hand, and His love keeping me all the way through.
This year marks nearly ten years since I gave my life to Christ. A whole decade. And in those years, I’ve walked through singleness, been in relationships, and had to wrestle deeply with the idea of purity, holiness and celibacy. It hasn’t always been pretty. But it’s been real.
When I surrendered my life to Jesus in 2015, I came from a very broken place. My life had been entangled in masturbation, pornography, sexual relationships, and the lingering trauma of abuse. I had been with people younger than me, older than me, people I cared about, and people I used. Looking back now, it would be easy to point fingers. But healing required honesty, and I had to own up to my part. Yes, some things were done to me, but others were choices I made. And those choices hurt me.
But here’s the beauty of salvation: Jesus met me right there. In all the shame, He pulled me out. One of the first miracles I ever experienced was deliverance from the grip of pornography and masturbation. That was a miracle. From the very first day I encountered the Lord, I just never went back. The desire was gone. It wasn’t something I had to fight or wrestle with for weeks or months. He took it from me instantly. That kind of freedom? I knew it wasn’t willpower. It was deliverance.
"You’ve Been Hurt by Men."
I’ll never forget one night at a prayer meeting in church. Two female pastors began to pray over me, and I just broke down. One of them said something that pierced right through my heart: “You’ve been hurt by men.” She began to pray into the pain. What she didn’t know was that I had been tormented for years by recurring dreams of abuse. I would wake up crying, questioning whether those things even happened.
A few months later, I opened up to my pastor about the dreams. She prayed for me, and during that prayer, something shifted. I began to vomit. It was a physical release, a spiritual breakthrough. From that day, the dreams stopped. I was free.
When God Touched Me Mid-Worship
Then came another moment, strange and unexpected but unforgettable.
I was leading worship one day, just singing and pouring my heart out to God, when suddenly I felt a gush of liquid from my private area. I thought it was my period. However, it wasn’t like a period; it felt like water, as if a tap had been turned on. I panicked and awkwardly made my way to a friend, asking if she could see anything. I was mortified. Thank God we had just finished worshipping. She told me to grab a scarf from one of my female pastors to cover myself. I rushed downstairs to the toilet, expecting to see a mess. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
That moment marked me. No one had laid hands on me. It was God. I didn't fully understand it at the time, but later a Pastor explained: God had delivered and sanctified my body right there. He healed me personally, powerfully, and privately.
And I knew it then: this body belongs to the Lord.
Why am I mentioning these things? It's because I go back to these encounters to help me live a life of holiness and purity.
“This Is Your Body, Lord.” - Honouring God With My Body
And I’m reminded of 1 Corinthians 6:13:
“Now the body is not for sexual immorality but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.”
That scripture became personal. I started to speak back to my own body:
“This is your body, Lord.”, “You made me whole and holy,” and “I am the righteousness of God.”
Romans 12:1 became my anchor:
“I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.”
This reminded me that my body and my life are laid down. I am a living sacrifice. Every time I’ve been tempted, that verse rings in my heart.
Jesus gave His body, broken for me, so that I could be made holy.
Every time I remember His body on that cross, I’m reminded that my body was bought at a price. So when temptations come, and trust me, they do come, I remind myself: This desire already died with Christ. This feeling was nailed to the cross. This body? It belongs to Him.
And every time those old desires crept back in, I brought them to the cross and reminded myself: they’ve already been dealt with at the cross.
Galatians 5:24 reminded me:
“Those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”
Reading further in 1 Corinthians 6:18–20, it says:
“Flee sexual immorality. Every sin that a man does is outside the body, but he who commits sexual immorality sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s.”
That hits home. This body? It’s not mine. It was bought. It’s the temple of the Holy Spirit. It’s sacred.
When I reflect on my past, I understand now what it means to sin against your own body. That knowledge, that freedom it keeps me from going back. And that truth has stopped me, time and time again, from going back to what God delivered me from. I’ve been freed from soul ties, and I know I wasn’t just taken advantage of; I took advantage, too. I led others into sin. I can't ignore that. When I reflect on my past, the people, the choices, I’m reminded that sin against the body leaves a unique kind of scar.
Relationships, Boundaries, and Becoming Strong
My walk hasn’t been perfect. Far from it. Six months into my salvation, I began dating someone who wasn’t saved. I thought I was strong I wasn’t watching porn, I wasn’t masturbating. But I didn’t yet understand boundaries. I still wanted to be held, to be seen. Though we didn’t have sex, it was intimate in other ways. And when he pushed for more, something inside me said no. He even told me I was holding back. Back in the world, being called “frigid” would’ve crushed me. But this time? I was learning to stand my ground.
I remember telling him, “If you’re not going to claim me properly and be serious, then I don’t want to do this.” For the first time, I didn’t give in. I made the call to walk away, with tears in my eyes but strength in my spirit.
That was a new strength I hadn’t known. I wasn’t used to being the one who walks away. But I did. And that mattered. That was the first time I felt strong enough to walk away. To draw the line. Before, I would've just stayed, tolerated, endured. But this time? I stood up for myself. For what God was doing in me.
My First Christian Relationship
In 2017, I entered my first Christian relationship. We were together for four and a half years. The first year was tough, I cried a lot. I cried about intimacy, about conviction, about wanting to please God.
But this Christian guy honoured me. He didn’t pressure me. He listened. He said, “You cry every time we cross a line; it affects me, too.” That was new for me. A man who respected my heart and honoured my walk with God. That was the first time a man respected my convictions. We spoke about our backgrounds, our convictions, and why we wanted to honour God together. For the first time, I felt what it meant to honour God with my body and in a relationship.
When I was dating him, I had to set clear boundaries to protect both of us. We made a decision not to be alone together, we were always around other people. It wasn’t about distrust, but about being wise and intentional.
Words of affirmation have always been my love language. I respond deeply to kind, encouraging words, but I realised they could also be triggering for me. I told him that even compliments, as sweet as they were, made it harder to stay on track. So we agreed to avoid certain things he’d say that would melt my heart and blur boundaries. For me, it came down to this: don’t be alone, and don’t stir up emotions that make purity harder.
One thing my pastor always says has stuck with me: “Don’t think you are strong; one thing can always lead to another.” And it’s so true. You might start with something innocent, a prayer session, a worship night, and if you’re not careful, it can slowly drift into something you never intended. Before you know it, a deep conversation turns into emotional vulnerability… and that can lead you straight into someone’s bed.
It’s not about being fearful, but being wise. Recognising your triggers, setting real boundaries, and staying humble enough to admit, “I’m not above temptation.” That mindset has honestly saved me more times than I can count.
After that, we remained celibate until the end of the relationship in 2021. Yes, it eventually ended because of his unfaithfulness, but I never felt betrayed in the way I would’ve if I had given my body to him. God had protected my soul, not just my relationship. And I began to understand why God says “no sex before marriage.” It’s not punishment, it’s protection. It’s love.
Falling and Running Back to God: The Real Test
But after that relationship ended, I was lost. Loneliness crept in. I battled heartbreak and pain. I was tempted to go back to what I had been delivered from. Grief, heartbreak, and loneliness tried to seduce me back into old patterns. I went to clubs, met someone new, same person each time. Lustful. Touchy. No sex,
But I cried after every encounter. I knew it wasn’t right.
We live in a world that says, “Get under someone to get over someone.” But the world doesn’t teach you to heal. It teaches you to run.
The world says, “Get under someone to get over someone.” But God was saying, “Wait on Me.”
“But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength…” – Isaiah 40:31
I had to confront the void. I had to stare at my loneliness and not run. I had to choose healing. I had to unlearn the world's ways and relearn God’s pace.
I wasn’t used to waiting. Since I was 18 and lost my virginity, I’d always been with someone. Being alone felt foreign. So when the relationship ended, it felt like death. I judged women who said they couldn’t live without a man until I became one of them.
I went clubbing a couple of times, met someone at the club... and it got physical. I’d say, “I still got game,” to my friends and then sob in my room in the night. Because I wasn’t at peace.
No sex, but it was lustful. I’d kiss him, feel desired and then go home and cry before God. Because I knew. I knew what I was doing. I knew it wasn’t right. And I knew God wasn’t finished with me. But God never turned away. He met me in repentance. Every time I repented, He met me with mercy.
“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart—These, O God, You will not despise.” — Psalm 51:17
Maybe you're reading this and thinking, “I’ve fallen too many times. I can’t keep going to God.” But that’s a lie. Don’t run from Him, run to Him. He wants your brokenness. Be real. Be raw. He can handle your mess.
The Fear of the Lord Saved Me
Funny thing is, after that breakup, I began to pray, “God, put the fear of the Lord in me.” I didn’t even know what I was asking for, but it saved me. That holy reverence kept me from destruction. It pulled me back every time I drifted. I didn’t even fully understand it, but I knew I didn’t want to live far from Him. I wanted my heart to stay soft. And that fear, the reverence and awe of God, saved me. It helped me walk away from sin. I wanted to stay near Him. I didn’t want to stray. I knew heartbreak could lead people astray. I didn’t want it to be me, but it became me. It happened to me.
These verses became life to me:
“The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life, To turn one away from the snares of death.” —Proverbs 14:27
“The fear of the Lord leads to life, And he who has it will abide in satisfaction; He will not be visited with evil.” —Proverbs 19:23
“Do not be wise in your own eyes; Fear the Lord and depart from evil.” —Proverbs 3:7
“And I will make an everlasting covenant with them, that I will not turn away from doing them good; but I will put My fear in their hearts so that they will not depart from Me.” —Jeremiah 32:40
“And Moses said to the people, “Do not fear; for God has come to test you, and that His fear may be before you, so that you may not sin.” —Exodus 20:20
Visions, Dreams, and God’s Warnings
God also gave me dreams and visions that warned me. I saw what it would be like to give in to that relationship, a dark room, a sense of shame, darkness and guilt. A wedding ring that turned into a time bomb. I woke up shaken. God was speaking loud and clear: This is not the way. I knew it was God saying: Walk away. And I knew it was God saying, “Don’t do this.”
I never saw that guy again. I cut ties completely. God showed me what I stood to lose. In my head, the ring represented the bride, the bride I was in Christ and the bride I’m longing to be for my husband. It represented years of purity, you know, like a purity ring that was shattered.
God was reminding me of all He had done in me, all He had restored, and He was protecting me.
Surrounded, Corrected, and Loved
I’ve seen how much God loves me, even in discipline. He corrects those He loves. A friend publicly called out in the church, saying someone had been seen in the club. She didn’t name names, but I knew. It shook me. I went to her crying, and she said, “You have the fear of the Lord.” And she prayed for me. I was humbled. And I was grateful. That fear of the Lord i had been praying for became real in me.
Even when I made plans with that guy, I’d call my praying friends: “Please pray for me, I don’t want to do this.” And every time, plans would fall through. God intervened. He protected me even when I didn’t have the strength to protect myself.
My House, My Temple
After my breakup, God blessed me. I got a house (I named my home Bethel, the house of God), graduated, and got a job. I saw His faithfulness. And I didn’t want disobedience to mess up what He was building in my life. I didn’t want to lose what God was doing over a moment of weakness. And I know the enemy comes when you’re vulnerable. He’ll distract you with pleasure and people.
Here are some of the decisions I made when i got saved, during my relationship and in my singleness:
No men in my house unless accompanied.
Be careful with what I watch and listen to. This is to guard my ears, eyes, and heart.
Constantly pray, “God, remove all distractions. Anything not from you.”
And as a woman, I know hormones are real. But so is the power of creating a holy atmosphere. The choices we make affect us. They shape us. And in this journey of celibacy, I’ve learned that purity isn’t just about abstaining, it’s about honouring. It’s about saying: “God, You are worth more than this moment of pleasure. You are worth my everything.”
My body is not just about abstaining from sex; it’s about honouring God with everything I am.
Over the years of walking this path, through being in a relationship, and now navigating singleness, I’ve realised just how much my journey has spoken to others. I never set out to be an example, but somehow, my story has helped people.
Friends, even strangers, have come to me saying, “I want to be celibate too,” and they’ve opened up about their struggles and decisions to start their journey. And if my story helps even one person feel less alone, more hopeful, or more determined to keep going, then it’s all worth it.
And that’s the thing, this isn’t a perfect story. These are my real struggles. I’ve been through the drama, the heartbreak, the confusion, the compromise. But through it all, I’ve stayed on track. I haven’t been involved with anyone for the past three years. That might sound simple on paper, but trust me, 2022 alone was a rollercoaster of ups, downs, moments of weakness, and moments of strength.
Yet here I am. Still standing. Still held by grace. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can overcome. Not by following rules, not by trying to be “good enough.” Rules and laws alone can’t save anybody. Only Jesus can do that. Only God gives us the strength, power, dominion, and authority to overcome the flesh and everything that tries to pull us off track. He gives us the power to walk in His will and to desire what pleases Him.
I’ve had to invite God into my weakest areas, the parts of me I wanted to hide, the places I didn’t want to face. And in that vulnerability, I’ve experienced healing. Not always instantly, but faithfully. And I know there are others out there, maybe even reading this now, who are silently struggling.
When I think about the years I’ve walked in celibacy, the things God has delivered me from, and the ways He continues to discipline and love me, I don’t feel restricted.
Maybe you’ve battled sex addiction, pornography, or masturbation. Maybe you’ve gone to church, sought help, prayed the prayers, and still feel stuck. I see you. And more importantly, God sees you.
I truly believe that with persistent prayer and honest surrender, God can and will set you free. Keep asking for grace. Keep inviting Him in. There is no shame in the struggle, only strength in surrender.
Some things in my life, God healed quickly. Other things have taken time and effort and a lot of grace. But through it all, I’ve learned this one truth: God is able.
With love,
Theophilia 🖤
