Redefine Your Paradigms.

Is your hair naturally curly or straight ?

Sighh...straight. Very straight, haha. I shouldn't complain because it's very obedient and easy to manage, and I appreciate that, but I do truly love curly hair. I'm considering a perm when it gets longer :P 

My stance on...

gender identity

labels

pronouns

gender expression

clothes, piercings, tattoos, medications, therapy, hormones, surgeries, accomodations

sexual orientation

relationships between consenting adults

You can do whatever you want forever.

This applies to...

me

you

everyone

Don't understand someone's identity/orientation/labels? Doesn't matter.

Don't "agree" with someone's pronouns or their interpretation/description of their own identity? Fuck off. Who do you think you are? Your opinion is neither desired nor relevant.

Kill the cop inside your mind. Don't be a dick.

Short Story: Beauty is a Beast

            You know that moment when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone. You know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. People should be that person more often.

        I see it a lot. People are always totally themselves around me. I’m your corner store cashier. I’m like a part of the wallpaper. Because honestly, what effect do I have on the rest of your life outside this miniscule window of time for your trip to buy chocolate or scotch tape? It’s amazing the things I can learn about people as a cashier just by simple observation. I’ve worked here at my tiny corner-store-attached-to-a-pharmacy on the corner of my street for two years, and we sell everything from a turnip to tweezers. In two years of working 7-11 every day of the summer and 7-11 every Saturday and Sunday during the school year, I’ve gotten to know most of the people who live in our neighborhood, through routine visits and fragments of conversation here and there.

 For example, elderly Mrs. McAllister lives all alone at the top of the hill with her four cats, whose photos she carries in her purse. Boots is the black one with white paws, Snowball is all white, Mittens is yellow with a black triangle on his forehead and Tommy is orange striped. She buys a 2L of milk and a Big Turk chocolate bar every single Saturday morning between 7:00 and 7:30 without fail.

 I expect Mr. Watkins visit around 9 every second Sunday morning. He always buys Werther’s hard caramel candies, Purity cream crackers, a bottle of ginger ale, a loaf of bread and bologna. He carries two tiny school photos in his wallet of his grandchildren, Jeffrey who is in grade five this year, and Alyssa, who is in grade two. They love the caramel candies.

 Finally, there’s a tall, dirty blonde boy around my age who seems to live on Nestea and Peppermint Lifesavers. He visits my store faithfully every day at around 10 during the summer to get his fix and still comes back every Saturday and Sunday morning during the school year. I know that he likes the Red Hot Chili Peppers, that he plays basketball and that he goes to the school on the other side of the city even though he’s not zoned for it. Name? Not a clue. I call him Lifesavers-Guy in my head.

 I’m writing all this down because I want to tell you the story of a boy and girl. Well mostly a girl, but the boy is in it a little bit. The girl’s name is Purple-Monster-Girl. Or at least, that’s what I call her.

 She appeared on the scene around the end of June, right after I had finished grade 11. That day I was teasing 13-year-old Joshua about his first date that night as I put his comic book and Sour Patch Kids into a bag. He was beet-red, right to the tips of his ears and was probably all too happy to escape when my attention was diverted. The little bell above the door tinkled and I looked up to see who it was. My first impression was that she looked really...for lack of a better word, Normal. I wish I could say she looked Mysterious, or she was gorgeous but she looked sad, but she just looked perfectly normal. She was about 5’7’’, with dark brown hair falling in loose waves to her shoulder blades, looking like she had let it dry on its own. I will say she has a really pretty face, with nice skin. She was wearing knee-length cut-off shorts, a black tshirt with a colourful graphic on the front that matched her turquoise converse. She wasn’t stick-thin but she wasn’t chubby by any means. She was just...normal. She had two earbuds stuck in her ears.

 She picked up a bag of Doritos, a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. When she brought it to the counter I pointed at her ear and said

 “What are you listening to?”

 She cocked her head and looked at me for a second, as if sizing me up, then she said

 “Nothing. People are just less likely to try and make conversation with me if I have them in.”

 Something told me I should have been at least a little bit offended by that, but I wasn’t at all. I just felt like I had passed some secret character test. She left the store and I was left shaking my head.

 “Weird chick.” I thought, and that was the last I thought of it, until she became a recurring presence. She came back every now and then for her purple Monster and  Stride Spearmint, though the junk food varied, sometimes chocolate, sometimes candy, sometimes chips.

 Around mid-July when I was selling popsicles and soft serves to droves of sticky, smiling children, she started coming in at 7 in workout clothes. She stopped buying junk food then too. It was around this same time that Purple-Monster-Girl met Lifesavers-Guy. She happened to come later that day, and both of them approached my counter with their usual purchases at the exact same time. Sometimes, replaying the scene in my head, it strikes me that it’s just like a movie. He stepped back like a gentleman and gestured for her to go ahead of him. She just looked up at him, right in his eyes and almost literally glowed at him, like, her smile looked like he was a child who had just said his first word. While I rang in her purple Monster and Stride Spearmint and she gave me the exact change without me asking her, Lifesavers-Guy asked her the pivotal question:

 “What are you listening to?”

 I looked at her quizzically. Would she be as honest with him as she was with me? She wasn’t. After a glance at me so fast it was almost imperceptible, she took one earbud out, smiled and lied. This is a perfect example of how people are themselves around me. She had no trouble admitting that she wasn’t really listening to music to the corner store cashier, but to this stranger, this boy, who might judge her, she had to lie.

 “Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

 And what a lucky lie. Lifesavers-Guy’s face lit up and they chatted eagerly all through his order, in which I had to tell him his total twice because he wasn’t paying attention the first time, and out the door. I could see them standing on the sidewalk outside the store. She laughed a lot and he smiled shyly, then they switched their phones and gave them back. I just grinned.

 As the days scorched and summer wore on, I sold a cool drink to every customer who walked in the store. August was giving us a beating this year. I stood behind my counter and watched harried fathers buying a box of cereal early in the morning, little old ladies buying tea bags and muffins, and people of all ages rushing in to pick up a card for various occasions and asking to borrow my pen. And I watched Purple-Monster-Girl and Lifesavers –Guy. Not in a creepy way, I mean when they came in the store. Sometimes, if he was alone, he bought Stride Spearmint or a purple Monster with his traditional order, or she bought Nestea or Lifesavers to accompany her drink and gum. Purple-Monster-Girl’s early morning workouts seemed to be working for her too, because the soft curves of June has transformed to taut, toned lines for August. As summer died with blazing red and orange sunsets, I saw them come in together sometimes holding hands. If one or both of them were in the store when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on the radio, I saw them smile like they shared some kind of secret. It obviously wasn’t such a huge secret if I was in on it, but nobody thinks of that.

 I guess they just felt special, as only new couples can. They were like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Actually, scratch that. Let’s say they were like a modern day Beauty and the Beast. Not that either one of them was ugly and the other one was beautiful, I just think that story is infinitely more romantic than Shakespeare’s tragedy because it’s about seeing people for who they really are and looking past outward appearances. Anyway.

 The days grew shorter, the soft serve machine went into storage, and Purple-Monster-Girl, Lifesavers-Guy and I all went back to our respective schools for our last year. My time spent behind my corner-store counter was cut from seven days to two. But I still got visits from my favourite couple on the weekends. It was around the time that Crayola crayons and loose leaf were in big clearance bins at the front of the store, and big boxes of mini chocolate bars were on display that I saw Purple-Monster-Girl’s hair straightened for the very first time ever. She wasn’t wearing her workout clothes this Sunday. She was wearing shorts that were, in my humble opinion, too short. If not for the weather, at least for propriety. And she wore the same tshirt I had first seen her in. It hung on her differently now. It slipped right past her flat, toned stomach and didn’t even catch on her hips.

 And there was trouble in paradise for our neighborhood lovers. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted it. One chilly morning early November, I was organising a magazine rack and shaking my head at celebrities exploits when the two of them approached the store, seemingly in a heated discussion, judging from their faces through the glass. They stopped talking as soon as they entered the store. The tinny radio music couldn’t quite handle the oppressive silence, and only made it awkward when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on. I pretended to be totally absorbed in perfecting the magazine display, until they had paid for their items and left, still in silence.

 Chocolate Santas, chocolate Snowmen and chocolate Reindeer were flying off the shelves and we had our first snowfall. I smiled at all my customers and wished them a Merry Christmas as they left the store. The same five annoying Christmas songs played over and over the store speakers for a month straight, and everybody was jolly. And I watched tiny changes in Purple-Monster-Girl. Dark eyeliner rimming her eyes. A lower neckline than I’d ever seen her wear. Her hair was more often straight and more seldom wavy. She was still beautiful, but she packaged it more. She looked like beauty was no longer natural, but something she put on like a mask when she got up every morning. The day after school let out for Christmas vacation, they came in together, looking happy again. He kept his arm around her waist, not possessively, just kinda chillin there, like he was supporting her, or protecting her. And I saw the way he set his jaw.

 New Year’s Day the corner store was open. It closed only Christmas Day and two other forced holidays under the labor law. Anyway, I sold a lot of Advil, Tylenol, Coffee and Gatorade that morning. I didn’t try to make conversation with those customers, I just kind of smiled gently at them. One such girl laid a box of Advil on the counter with a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. She didn’t really resemble the one who came in five months ago and told me there was nothing coming through her earbuds. Her whip straight hair had been highlighted with caramel streaks. That looked great to me. What didn’t look great was the tank top that looked two sizes too small and the painted-on jeans which revealed stick arms and legs and a waist so tiny it looked like it would fit between my finger and thumb. I stared at her for a few seconds in wonderment. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones had become very defined. I passed her her plastic bag of three items and wondered who she had kissed at midnight.

 It evidently wasn’t her boyfriend. No more did they enter the store together or buy each other’s items. Red Hot Chili Peppers on the radio elicited a stony face from him and...nothing from her, no recognition whatsoever. A week after we went back to school I watched Lifesavers-Guy stalk resolutely past the Monster cooler and refuse to let his gaze wander to the gum display next to the counter. I didn’t make any eye-contact with him as I rang in his Nestea and Lifesavers.

 The following month saw weather as cold and blustery as the night the enchantress sought refuge in the Prince’s castle. Business was slow. I sold contact solution, Benadryl, Root Beer and Reese’s Pieces. At home, I did homework and I started watching Beauty and the Beast again, to relive my childhood. I only saw the beginning before I fell asleep though. I saw the Beast shut himself up in his tower, ashamed at his own appearance, despising himself and repulse any human companionship. I felt bad for him. After all, who said he was ugly? Only society’s socially constructed ideas of “beauty” made him think that. It only took the right person to see the real him, and to see how beautiful he actually was. But I digress.

 Lifesavers-Guy came to the store less, probably because Purple-Monster-Girl still visited faithfully to get her energy drink and gum. She never put food with it, but I did get a few surprises. One morning I was just listening to 10-year-old Jess tell me about the latest Nancy Drew mystery she had read, in between mouthfuls of Skittles. Purple-Monster-Girl slipped in somewhere around the falling action. After Jess left, Purple-Monster-Girl placed her traditional energy drink and gum on the counter and then plopped down beside it a box of condoms. I said nothing, just looked at her. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. I rang through her order in what was supposed to be disapproving silence but I don’t know if she got the vibe. That was Saturday. The next morning I sold her more Advil.

 Three weeks later it was uncommonly crowded in my tiny store. Purple-Monster-Girl was coming in as Lifesavers-Guy was going out. Manoeuvering around her, he placed his hand ever so lightly in the small of her back, an unconscious, tender touch, but drew it back suddenly as though stung. A moment later she turned around to get her Monster from the cooler and I could see why. Her thin, tight shirt revealed every vertebrae in her back in sharp relief, clearly visible through flesh and fabric. I looked at her with sad eyes. She wasn’t the normal girl she was in June. Seven months had transformed her into an entirely different person, one who was quite evidently underweight. One who...was buying a pregnancy test. Heaven help us. I glanced quickly at her face, but her gaze was focussed somewhere past my left ear. I could only hope that I didn’t see her back here in nine months buying baby formula. After THAT experience, I examined all the labels on our condom boxes, and concluded that she should have bought the ultra-strong ones. They were 98.2% effective, which is a whole 1.2% more effective than the normal kind, but my faith in them was shattered forever.

 The next Saturday, everbody was buying boxes of Barbie valentines and candy hearts and Hershey kisses. But not Purple-Monster-Girl. I caught myself staring at her stomach, looking for a bump. I knew it was too soon, but I did it unconsciously anyway. She just looked as shrunken as ever to me. However, to my immense relief, this shopping trip featured a box of tampons. I actually had to restrain myself from sighing in relief.

 The ides of March rolled around and a lot of green was on sale everywhere. I saw garlands of four leaf clover and plastic cut-outs of leprechauns and the young and middle-aged elementary school teachers who bought them for their classrooms. And quite suddenly, Purple-Monster-Girl disappeared. Saturday morning when the bell tinkled I didn’t even look up, until I heard a much heavier footfall than what I was used to, and beheld a strange man in a suit buying Pepsi and a muffin. I waited and waited and waited. The end of my four-hour shift came and still no sign of her. Nobody made any utterance of where she was. They didn’t need to.

 Near the end of March, I served a woman whom I had never seen before. It wouldn’t be weird to me because I do that all the time, except for a striking resemblance to a girl who used to come in here all the time, and the fact that she was buying a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. And did I mention this corner store JUST HAPPENED to be just over the hill to the hospital? The woman’s hair was disheveled and she bore unmistakable signs of fatigue in the shadows under her eyes and the droop of her shoulders. She spoke in hushed tones to the woman standing next to her, whom I assumed was her sister of friend. Completely unintentionally, I caught snippets of their conversation. “ ...still refusing to eat...heartrate dangerously low...better in time for prom...” As I handed her her receipt, I smiled at her and wished her a good day as sincerely as I could.

 That night, I tried to finish watching Beauty and the Beast but I only got as far as the dance in the ballroom and Belle wearing her beautiful yellow dress. I reflected that yellow doesn’t look good on many people. In the meantime, I knew the rose in the tower of the castle was wilting. Time was running out. This Beauty felt more like the Beast and I didn’t know if she would get to dance with her prince. This story of a girl and boy is shaping up more like a Shakespearian tale than a Disney movie after all.

 A couple weeks later, I looked up to see a tall, dirty-blonde boy enter the corner store. He didn’t pick up Nestea and Lifesavers this time. He went straight to the Monster cooler and picked out a purple one, then a pack of Stride Spearmint gum, then on the counter next to them he placed a greeting card. There was a cartoon Teddy bear on the front with a bandaid on his head and big bold letters above it: “Get Well Soon!” I wanted to say something, but what would I say?

 “I’m sorry your ex-girlfriend who dumped you because she’s sick and whom you’re obviously still in love with is in the hospital”

 Yeah, no, that’s a little creepy.

 I thought for a second, then threw caution to the winds and just said

 “How is she?”

 He looked up as though mildly surprised that I was speaking to him, and took a minute to process my question.

 “She’s doing better than she was.”

 I nodded. “That’s good.”

 Then he left.

 I remember clearly Saturday, April 28th Lifesavers-Guy came in my store again. He didn’t buy a single thing, just marched straight the counter and said

 “Can I show you something?”

 I was completely taken aback and slightly apprehensive. In the past, such a question had precipitated photos of cats in various attitudes of idleness, of school portraits of grandchildren, but I didn’t know what to expect from this teenager.

 “Sure.”

 He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. It was of a couple under an arch decorated with swaths of white tulle and flowers. He wore dress pants, dress shirt, vest and tie and she wore a beautiful yellow dress, a perfect fairy tale dress. I recognized the dark hair with caramel highlights and the smile I had seen the day they met – the same glowing smile like a child had said their first word. She still looked skinny but I could see signs of returning curves, like back in June when I described her as “Very Normal.”

 “That was at her prom last Saturday.” He said.

 I looked up at him. “She’s beautiful.”

 He smiled. “I know.”

 That night I went home and finally finished watching Beauty and the Beast.  As Belle and her Prince kissed at the end and fireworks went off, I reflected on how thankful I am that there are people in this world who know true beauty when they see it.

 You know that moment – when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone – you know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. You should be that person more often. Who cares what anybody thinks? Because I can promise you there is somebody out there who will love the true you. 

Whats your opinion of bisexual people?

Hey :) Thanks for your question! How shall I put this? Bisexual people fall under the umbrella of “all people” and I have only one single opinion on all people: All people are beautiful and wonderful and lovely. All people are worthy of love and respect. All people are treasured fiercely and intimately by their creator. All people are loved by God and by me. 

Regardless of age, gender, colour, creed, religious views, sexual orientation. Regardless of their past. Regardless of whatever they might think is wrong with them. 

That is the only opinion I will ever offer on people, in general. And really, it is NONE of my beeswax who other people love/are attracted to/sleep with.

I have talked a bit more in depth about the conflict between homosexuality and the church here, here and here.  In every single one of those questions, I and the question-asker both specifically used the word “homosexuality”. Now that I think about it, I suppose you could generally apply the opinions expressed in those posts to anyone of the LGBTQ community. In conclusion, it doesn’t matter who you are. It doesn’t matter what you believe or how you live. My job is to love you. Period. And that’s what I’m gonna do. :)  

Thanks for the question! Peace and love! -Katherine 

Is sex before marriage a sin? If so, why? Does the ceremony make a difference to God if you're in a fully committed relationship? Is it a sin to have sex the night before the wedding but not a sin 24 hours later? I've always believed in waiting but now I'm questioning what the difference is to God

In your question I can see that you have already gotten rid of the idea of marriage as a covenant. When you ask “does the ceremony make a difference to God if you’re in a fully committed relationship?” the answer is yes because it’s not a fully committed relationship until the ceremony that symbolizes the covenant relationship between you and your spouse before God. If marriage is just a ceremony or a social contract, then yeah, it wouldn’t make that big of a deal, but it is so much more than that. It is an image of the relationship that Christ has with his bride the Church. 

Marriage is not the small thing that the culture has made it out to be. The call in marriage is to give your life for your spouse, and when people throw their marriages away for nothing then it gives people the idea that marriage really isn’t that big of a deal and that in the end it’s basically just like any other relationship. Once you start thinking that way, then marriage becomes irrelevant. But that’s not what marriage is. It’s a covenant between you your spouse and God, and as such it should be treated with great reverence.

The Names of God

Queer Christians are on a whole other level. Queer Christians have faith you can't even understand. Queer Christians know God in such a deep and special way. Someone who realizes they're queer and STAYS a Christian has such a powerful belief in God and such an intimate acquaintance with His goodness. I wish homophobic, transphobic, conservative fundamentalist evangelicals could grasp even a tiny bit of the joy and peace and love that I experience through my QUEER relationship with God.

Do you think your parents would disallow you from reading books such as fifty shades of grey, go ask alice or crank?

dude man bro! I’ve read Go Ask Alice and I had forgotten it until this very second. That was such a sad book :( and I googled Crank and would probs totes read it just for educational purposes. [sidenote: this recent affliction I’ve acquired of abbreviating perfectly functional words such as probably and totally is shocking and will be cured as of right now.]

Now my ducky, as for Fifty Shades of Grey…why, I ask you, would I want to read a book whose contributions to the literary world are phrasal gems such as “kinky f***ery” and “puckered love cave”? I mean, I’m not into porn but I imagine that if I was I’d like something a tad more well-written.

All that being said, I wasn’t allowed to read Harry Potter until I was 13 and I wasn’t allowed to read Twilight until I was 16 because my mom was worried about the effects on my young impressionable mind. Having since read all four Twilight books, I think she was quite in the right. The relationships in that book are unhealthy, co-dependent and bordering on emotionally abusive. Harry Potter, on the other hand, is and will remain one if my favourite series. Anyway! It’s not that she didn’t want me exposed to the pain and evil in the world, she just wanted to make sure I was mature enough to put everything I read into it’s proper place in my brain. And I think we’re quite past that point now. My brain is far less malleable nowadays, and I think she recognizes my ability to use discernment when selecting reading materials.

And that ability is why I will NEVER read Fifty Shades of Grey. Haha..

Thanks for the question! Peace and love! -Katherine

Many christian families seem to almost block or discourage their children from reading certain books, watching certain movies, or just taking out tv and computers all together. Do you think this is because these parents believe that if their children are exposed to these influences, the children will form their own opinions and leave the family?

I sincerely hope not! Haha your question makes me wonder about your opinion of Christian families. :P

I personally think that the primary objective of any parent, whether Christian or not, is to protect their children. And any parent anywhere, at any time, of any religious affiliation, who forbids their child to read or watch something, is doing so because they think that the entertainment in question is somehow inappropriate for their child. This might include gratuitous sexual references, excessive violence, coarse language, or questionable thematic messages. There was lots of stuff I wasn’t allowed to read or watch a a child, because it contained one or several of the content “red flags” I just listed. The real reason parents put boundaries on their children’s intellectual diet is because children’s brains are very malleable, and they form world views based on what they see. And they will quickly become desensitized to anything they see or hear frequently in various media, and they will then assimilate it into their way of thinking and it’ll come out in their actions and speech. If you let a kid play super violet video games when they’re like, 6, they will be more likely to respond aggressively and violently to day-to-day situations. If a kid is watching shows everyday with the f-word in them, they will start saying it too.

What you will find is that parents who have more conservative beliefs (such as Christians) will put more restrictions on their children’s reading and viewing material because there are more things they want to keep their children from getting desensitized to.

However, I would never agree with the statement that this is to keep the children from forming their own opinions, or being able to think for themselves. In fact, children can’t really think for themselves. You don’t even develop post-conventional morality or abstract logic and decision making skills until after the age of 12, and even then your frontal lobes are still developing all throughout your teens. So especially for young kids, what we see as their “thinking” is really just a product of the input.

So you’ll find that a lot of the age restrictions parents impose are ages like 12 and 16. [sidenote: for me, cell phone was 12, Facebook was 16, and dating was 16.] that’s because these ages are in the period of life when people actually do start thinking for themselves.

Christians aren’t brainwashed; we know that following Christ is a personal decision, and your parents can’t make it for you. I imagine that every Christian parent’s fondest wish is that their son or daughter would think for themselves, make their own decisions, and choose to have a personal relationship with their Lord and Saviour. Lots of us do. :) and those who do..did it because we wanted to. Not because we didn’t know any better :P

Thanks for the question! Peace and love! -Katherine

Your opinions on polygamy?

Hmm..I have to say that I am not so much a fan of polygamy. 

By way of explanation, I would have to say that it’s because I’m a big believer in the idea of “One Love”. That is to say, I’m not going to have sex until I’m married, and ideally, I plan to be married “until death do us part”. So I personally am not open to the idea of divorce except in the case of abuse or infidelity or some other such extreme circumstances. “Irreconcilable differences”, to me, is not an option. So that being said, my vision for my life is being in love with, being married to, and having sex with, only one person. I want to be so close to someone that I know them inside and out. I want to know all their strengths and all their weaknesses and love them for both equally, because that’s what makes them who they are. I want to be totally open and vulnerable about myself with someone and have them accept me for who I am. I want to have the irrefutable confidence that I want to spend every day until the end of my days with this person. I want to whether the storms of life with this person. I want to fight like crazy with this person. I want a life-partner. Like me and him against the world, you know? And to me, such an intimate experience with only one person makes it all the more valuable and precious. Especially with the sex thing, especially for me. 

But that’s just the romantic in me. Let’s talk about what the bible has to say on the topic of polygamy. 

In the bible, there are many examples of man who had more than one wife. Sure, King Soloman had 700 wives and 300 concubines on top of that! (1 Kings 11:2-3) [Sidenote: what the heck are you gonna do with that many women? I mean even if you slept with a different woman every day, it would take you more almost three years to get through them all! I bet he didn’t know most of their names.] That being said, most theological scholars seem to think that the polygamy was a cultural thing and only tolerated, if not condoned by God.

In Genesis, after God takes one of Adam’s ribs to make Eve, it says “This explains why a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one.” (Genesis 2:24) That seems pretty clear. It even says that two become one, so that seems to support the monogamy argument. 

Later on in the New Testament, Paul (who was a pretty funny guy) is talking about how he’s a bachelor because it allows him to focus more on his evangelical mission, but that it’s better to get married than to “burn in lust”. Because, for some reason, the members of the early church in Corinth seemed to think that sex is bad. This is completely false! Sex was created by God and it is a beautiful thing. So Paul is basically saying that sex is not a bad thing, but you shouldn’t really be sleeping around, because that’s not the way God intended it. Paul’s point is that trying to avoid sex completely is almost impossible, painful, frustrating for everyone involved, and a really good way to disappoint yourself. So marriage is the ideal situation here. Paul says, “But because of the temptation of sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband.” (1 Corinthians 7:2) [Sidenote: The verse after that talks about how husband and wife should fulfill each other’s sexual needs. Well-known pastor and author Rick Warren tweeted that verse, which I think has got to be the most awkward scripture tweet ever. Its awkwardness is surpassed only by Christian comedian Tim Hawkins who mistakenly told someone that his favourite verse is Psalm 38:7, which says “I have a painful disease in my loins”.] 

So anyway, it would seem that the bible supports the idea of monogamy. I personally think that the way God designed sex was for one man and one woman within the bonds of God-consecrated, holy matrimony. (This is a discussion on polygamy. I’ve already talked about homosexuality at length here, here and here.) Therefore, my seemingly romantic “One Love” idea is actually firmly grounded in my religious beliefs. 

In conclusion: Polygamy is not a lifestyle that I would choose, based on my beliefs and personal moral code, but like anything else, I will not condemn another person for choosing that lifestyle. These are the choices I’ve made for my life and will not be arrogant enough to try to extend them into yours. 

Thanks for the question :) Love chatting with you guys! Peace and love! -Katherine