For those unfamiliar with the concept of a ward, in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, the church is divided into large areas. Each area is typically divided into Stakes (the term coming from the prophet Isaiah describing Zion as a tent held down by stakes). (Isaiah 54:2) Each Stake is typically divided into wards, which are congregation-sized units that meet together each Sunday. While there are other types of units where large congregations are not possible, the ward is the basic unit of official church organization.
Most wards consist of families and geographic boundaries. Singles wards are special units of organization that do not typically have only single young adult membership. Since one of the most fundamental teachings of the Mormon church involves eternal marriage and family relationships, in many areas, these special wards provide unique opportunities to meet other singles in addition to the typical ecclesiastical functions found in all wards. In other words, the church promotes, endorses, and attempts to facilitate marriages.
The principles of marriage are emphasized more in some wards than others. The reason for this is the natural sensitivity that many singles have to the subject. Few people are opposed to the idea of romantic involvement, but many singles feel that they will not have the opportunity to be married. When rejections and failures begin to accumulate, encouragement from leaders to date more frequently feels like salt being rubbed into a wound. Well-meaning individuals try to persuade singles to attempt to initiate relationships, but frequently do little more than remind singles that they are lonely.
I was personally in that situation. Being a scrawny nerdy kid in high school, I was not successful in wooing girls for whom I felt affection. Repeated failure made me feel like I had overestimated my value, especially when my friends appeared to be successful in their attempts. I decided to try and bury the nagging feeling of low self-worth by focusing on representing something larger than myself. I served a mission. When I returned home, I felt like I had a much better chance at finding a significant other. I became involved in a singles ward, which was filled with people who were a little older. Many of these people were very nice, and I enjoyed friendships, however, any time I conjured the courage to ask a girl out, it ended in rejection.
Eventually, I moved to wards where the average age was closer to my own, but the pattern of asking a girl out and having her want to be "just friends" and then finding out that "just friends" meant "keep away from me you freak" was taxing. I spent time on my knees begging God to help me in my efforts to not be alone. It seemed like something that God should have helped me with if his church focused so much on eternal families.
The nearly constant reminders of my single status from being surrounded by happy couples at work, at school, at church, and even at home when my roommates brought their girlfriends over was painful. Having some married high councilor come in to priesthood meeting and tell me that girls were upset that men were not asking them out on dates was completely inconsistent with my experience. I concluded that they might want some men to ask them out, but not me.
Trying to improve my dating techniques was an effort in which I improved from being dismally bad to just really bad. I was completely unable to "be myself", as so many people had advised me, when I was desperately worried about not coming off as too "needy." The number of failures I had experienced made it all the more difficult to summon courage to ask girls out... and when I finally did, I was a nervous wreck. The encouragement of friends and peers was negated by dates that ended without a hug, a handshake, a high-five, or even a "have a nice night." Attempts to try again were always met with impossibly difficult scheduling issues and other excuses.
It did not take long before I realized what was happening. These girls were filling their social obligation of agreeing to a first date... the "courtesy date." I never really had any chance with them, but they would allow me to think that I did... at least temporarily. The dishonesty required in these social interactions was upsetting, and it caused me to question my worth altogether. Was I really loved for who I was? After all, my parents and family had to love me because I was family. They had not chosen me based on my merits. I wondered if God felt the same way. I did not feel particularly talented or useful to him. I felt worthless.
Struggling with feelings of depression led me to vow that I would stop the practice of dating which had brought me to that condition. It was by no means a unique thing to take a break from dating to allow one's heart to heal, but I was determined that I would be done with it. I imagined what it would be like to be away from all the happy couples and the beautiful girls whose very presence taunted me. I concluded that if I had lived in the middle ages, I would have joined the Benedictine order and found quiet, humble purpose in prayer and simple work in monastic life. The concept of the monk who never had his value reduced by the rejection of women was quite appealing.
Ultimately, these thoughts became the basis for the creation of something I called "The Holy Brotherhood of Celibacy." Over time, I began criticizing the dishonesty involved in the dating process more openly. Some of my friends and relatives that were feeling bad because of rejection (both male and female) would temporarily join the brotherhood. Somewhere in the snacks, the laughter, and the video games, I discovered something that had eluded me... happiness. Suddenly, it no longer mattered that I was alone, because I was voluntarily swearing off dating.
Of course, even I, the Holy Brother, was not perfectly immune to the influence of beautiful girls, particularly those that I determined might have something in common with me, but my departures from the comfort of the Brotherhood grew less frequent, and each rejection reinforced my view that dating had been invented by a liar or an idiot.
To the dismay of several of my church leaders, I began openly denouncing dating and date-promoting activities. I preached the "blessed doctrine of celibacy" to others, knowing that I was not alone in my frustrations. Many men were frustrated when girls would say things like "I would love to go out with you" when they really meant "I would tolerate you purchasing food and entertainment for me." To my surprise, a number of girls became very angry with me. They would tell me that I was fighting against the doctrine of the church because people had to date to get married, and marriage was ordained of God. Of course such simple arguments were easily refuted by pointing out examples like Isaac and Rebecca, whose marriage was not founded on dating and dishonesty. If scriptural points were insufficient, I could always silence them by asking them out. Of course, none of them wanted me to stop preaching celibacy because they had interest in me.
The disdain and frustration of some became a badge of honor. With pride and vigor I would greet people by labeling them "friends of celibacy." Some of my talented roommates worked with me to create a short film, "The Ascension of the Holy Brother" which humorously portrayed me being rejected and finding happiness in the acceptance of celibacy. People loved it.
It was not in one instant, but over the course of my notorious stent as the Holy Brother of Celibacy, I realized that this was more than just a façade. The Holy Brotherhood represented my efforts to reject rejection itself. In public speaking and bold declarations, I felt strength. It no longer mattered as much that women saw a sniveling, scrawny, nerdy, half-wit in a dating situation, because they were not seeing my strength. The self-esteem that I had so willingly given to girls only to have it trampled upon had been moved so it was mostly out of their reach.
Somewhere as this realization came, I began hanging out with the beautiful woman that would become my wife. There was no dating. There were no mind-games. There was no dishonesty. I did not feel like I had to sell the idea that I was fun, interesting, or desirable. In hanging out, not dating, we fell in love, made plans, and got married.
The Holy Brotherhood of Celibacy is no longer a daily subject of preaching. I do not greet people as friends of celibacy anymore. My wife and I have a wonderful family. As important as my marriage and children are to me, and as much as I believe that God himself has blessed me to be with them, their presence is not the reason I believe that God loves me. The realization of God's love came when I rejected a system that emphasized my weaknesses and discovered my strengths. The assessments of girls I attempted to woo were far less important. The Holy Brotherhood of Celibacy represented a concentrated effort to be happy as a single, and while it did not remove the sting of loneliness completely, it helped me to put it in context.
I still believe that dating is not necessarily the answer to being single. I believe that there are many people that are not able to be themselves, let alone be their best, in a dating environment. My heart is filled with empathy for people in these situations. Although I am no longer single, I still feel a bit of contempt for those that oversimplify or underestimate the problems with being single. I understand the bitter bitter taste of loneliness, and the pain of heart-break and disappointment.
For those in this situation, I encourage membership in the Holy Brotherhood of Celibacy. Of course, there is no official organization, and membership does not require any special ceremony. It means to actively seek out situations where you can play to your strengths. Where possible, cut down on involvement in situations where you are not able to be yourself or act freely and honestly. Stop doubting that God loves you, and search for the gifts he has given you.
It may be difficult to immediately see how not helping you to find a spouse is a manifestation of God's love, but in the end, it will all become clear. "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." (1 Corinthians 13:12) In the end, we will see his hand has been miraculously helping and guiding us all along, and in the end, he will save those that believe in him, even when it is difficult.
