I was raised with a mother so wise and so dear,
Her cautions on sex still rang loud in my ear.
She warned of disease, and of babies unplanned,
And I trusted her deeply—I followed her stand.

 

But college brought voices I hadn't yet known,
With pinups on walls and a much different tone.
The boys had a point, that I had to agree,
Their thoughts about sex made some sense to me.

 

So I challenged myself in a curious quest,
To see if my mother’s advice stood the test.
I sought out a chaplain—no Bible defense—
Just logic alone, if it made any sense.

 

He spoke of the risk to the soul and the heart,
Of wounds that might form if love fell apart.
But I knew myself, and I didn’t agree—
No fear in that moment lived deeply in me.

 

I changed what I thought, but I still drew a line:
“I can’t just have sex with all girls that I pine.”
Attraction alone couldn’t show me what’s right—
I needed some standards, I must be a knight.

 

Freedom’s not merely the lifting of rules—
It calls for a wisdom not taught in the schools.
It’s one thing to question, another to see
What kind of person I’m wanting to be.

 

So I let go of the rule, but I didn’t let go,
Of need for a compass for my passion’s flow.
I wasn’t rebellious—or tracking a trend—
I was learning to think, not learning to bend.