Dating as a Christian: How growing up religious affected the way I viewed relationships

Attending church was a routine my family and I did every Sunday. I was not born Christian, but I converted to Christianity when I was seven. Though I read the bible only occasionally and did not actively attend Sunday school, reading books by Christian author Vicki Courtney encouraged me to hold on to my faith and religious values.

Growing up, my sex education was limited to abstinence-based teachings. From my understanding, dating was meant to help you find a partner in marriage, not to meet boys or have fun. In place of a wedding ring, some youths chose to don a purity ring as a pledge to remain a virgin until marriage.

When I started university in Los Angeles, I attended a church with many Indonesian students. This was perfect as I was looking forward to meeting people who shared my cultural background, and at the same time, build my relationship with God through a community. Because I grew up in an international and non-religious school, I felt that this would have been a good chance to connect with a guy of a similar faith and background.

One night, a pastor came over to a small group gathering and asked the men and women to separate. While we sat cross-legged in a circle, a bible hovered above his foot as he preached that a woman's role was to find a husband.

At 21, I certainly wasn't ready for marriage, but Timothy*, a fellow Indonesian-American caught my eye. Standing tall at 5’9”, Timothy's thick black frames, glossy black hair and confidence reminded me of Buddy Holly.

I absolutely love concerts and a mutual friend suggested that I attend Made in America, a festival in Downtown LA where Kanye West headlined, with Timothy and his friend.

That fateful day, Timothy and I did not talk at all. I thought that he would be open to getting to know me; but the only time we spoke was for him to mention that he and his friend had to go somewhere.

20 minutes passed and neither had returned. I texted and called Timothy and his friend, but there was no response from either men.

I had been left all alone in the middle of a concert.

A week later, I confronted him at a friend’s apartment, but he denied ditching me even though the receipts were all on my phone. Eventually, I realised that he left on purpose as he did not like my loud and outspoken personality, which he perceived as “vulgar”. Though I wish he was just honest with me from the start, he apologised to me years later at a friend’s wedding.

After the Timothy fiasco, I wanted to avoid dating Christian guys for awhile.

Joseph-Calvin*, my German-Filipino high school classmate, was someone whom I reconnected via DM after eight years of no contact.

He smelled of Versace Eros and looked like Cole Sprouse. Girls loved him in high school as he was charismatic and though I did not have a crush on him back then, I soon developed feelings for him a month after we first started messaging each other.

We had a flirtatious friendship, where we’d flirt with intense eye contact, have non-stop WhatsApp conversations and two hour-long FaceTime calls where he’d sing me covers of classic rock songs on his guitar at his bedroom in Manila. Things were going great until he moved to Singapore.

During Easter, I wanted to invite Joseph-Calvin to church as my pastor had encouraged us to bring a non-Christian friend to service.

His response: “My dad is my one and only saviour”. Seeing his words flash on screen hurt me. I felt like I was being mocked for my faith.

Despite that, I tried to give Joseph-Calvin another chance. He was supposed to attend my 26th birthday party but he kept my friends and I waiting. Eventually, he was a no show. There were no apologies, no texts, no calls.

I knew it was time for me to cut all ties with him. I deleted his number and unfollowed him on all my socials. I binned our selfies to the “Deleted” folder.

The following year, he texted me: “Happy Birthday”. Angered by the way he treated me, I called him out on his disrespectful behaviour. Rather than taking full accountability, he denied hurting my feelings. He eventually apologised after I told him how terrible he had made me feel.

As much as I wanted to make things work between us, I learnt that trying to "convert" someone so we could date was not the most appropriate response even though I thought I was coming from a good place. Plus, neither of us were fully serious at that stage, so having any sort of an ultimatum was not the healthiest way for me to deal with the situation.

Last December, I met Mark* on Hinge. He was a 25-year-old post-grad student chasing his dream of becoming an architect. I hadn’t dated a Singaporean guy before but that wasn't an issue for me. What was important was that he too, was a practicing Christian.

When we met up, I distinctly remember how the rainwater coated his black Honda and Samantha Mumba’s 'Gotta Tell You' played on the radio. As we talked about our faith, he shared that he was searching for a different church as he couldn’t relate to its messages anymore. During our conversation, it seemed like we had different ideas relating to church-going and Christianity, and I felt like this could be challenging for me. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only dealbreaker.

At the end of the night, he told me that he had been recently dumped him on his birthday and was keen on explore what it meant being "uncuffed" from his ex. Given how recent the breakup was, I didn't feel like it was right being a part of a rebound relationship.

If circumstances were different, I might have been receptive to having him as my first serious boyfriend, but it was not meant to be.

The week before Chinese New Year, I matched with Jesse*. He was two years younger than I, and he was searching for a Christian girl to date. (At this point, I had openly disclosed my faith on Hinge.)

In his Hinge prompt, Jesse said he was looking for a future wife whose date nights consisted of bible study. Though reading the bible on dates was not something I would normally be down for, I wondered what it was like dating someone more religious than I.

Despite being taught to date seriously, I felt it was important to get to know him first. As much as it clashed with the values I was taught, I felt dating casually was the safest way to navigate a new relationship with a stranger.

From Hinge, we moved onto Telegram. I was hoping that he would be open to dating me, but he sent me mixed signals. He insisted that we be friends first, as he said that it would be wrong to date me as I clearly stated that I was not ready to get serious. Then, he got upset when I shared my dating history and asked if I got intimate with other men prior to meeting him. Then, came the red flag. His text said, “You give me your lips, I give you Jesus.”

My stomach sank. My head felt an intense level of heat. I felt attacked and judged as “impure” since he seemed to believed that I had to "save" myself for only him. To make matters worse, Jesse constantly gave me 'what if' scenarios that included marriage and having four kids. I texted back that I was no longer interested.

If there's one major takeaway from my experiences, I've learnt that measuring how “pure” someone is shouldn’t be used as a basis for dating. Purity is heavily emphasised in Christian dating culture, but especially when it comes to matters of physical intimacy, it doesn't seem like a realistic expectation to have as most guys I know (both Christian and non-Christians) have had sex before marriage.

Are you no longer "pure" because you've dated or kissed someone before? To paraphrase Matthew 7:1-6, who are we to judge?

At 29, society seems to expect that I should be married already. Instead, I am happily single.

For so long, I was taught that marriage is the end goal. I used to believe that I had to score a partner or die trying. I felt embarrassed about my singleness for so long that I refused to believe that it was a gift. Ironically, it’s stated in 1 Corinthians 7:34 that being unmarried is an asset that allows me to focus on God.

If there’s one thing I am thankful for, it’s going through all these misadventures with the aforementioned men. I was unhappy with how things didn’t work out then, but thank God that I didn't end up settling for any of them.

While marriage is certainly something to be celebrated, how can I guarantee that I’ll be 100 per cent happy if I do it to impress fellow believers and to feel validated by society? More than anything, changing how I feel about having an "all or nothing" approach to dating was the most freeing feeling.

Love is patient, and I have to learn to be patient with myself too. I can't guarantee what the future holds, but I choose to believe that God is still vetting my match for me. After all, if it's God’s plan for me to savour this season of singleness until I am ready to fully settle down, I'll place my trust in His timing.

*Names have been changed.