"But you didn't put the ash on your forehead," he insisted, doing his best to get me to give up my 40-day-and-40-night vow of celibacy.
I simply looked at him. "But I made the vow with Him already." And I wasn't going to take it back.
For a long time, I have feared that my sexual freedoms were preventing me from doing some serious soul-searching. I was the woman at the well who was always trying to quench her thirst for love in the wrong places, when all she needed to do was look inside of herself and find God, who would alleviate all of her feelings of solitude and grief.
It is day three now, and I am dissolving my addictions to the men in my life. I am on withdrawal from my oxytocin-addicted state, but I know I am stronger than this.
37 more days to go.
