Why I Ditched My Purity Ring

Currently I’m 30 + 8 days.

On my way to thirty, so many people told me that my thirties would be my best years—my prime. They told me that I would be more secure in who I am and more certain of what I want, that I would have more vision and let less distract me from my goals. They told me that people would take me more seriously.

I guess I wasn’t sure what to believe, but here’s what I can tell you so far. I am more sure of myself. Of course I still battle insecurities, but they seem to be fading into the background as my goals and my passions sort of take center stage. I’m not sure anyone is taking me more seriously, but I did get a floor steamer for my birthday?I feel like almost overnight my priorities have rearranged themselves and I honestly couldn’t be happier about that.

My twenties were fantastic and magical in so many ways, don’t get me wrong. They were hard too and so full of adventure and becoming. Also of some heartache and loss. I met my very best friends and learned how to keep them with miles and oceans between us. I never did fall in love and I suppose sometimes that hurts me. I found my city and and I suppose my place in this world along with it. I sorted through a lot of my passions and compassions and finally put a name to what I feel I’ve been called to do all along. And of that brings us to this post.

I’ve known for a few years now that I hate human trafficking more than I hate anything else. I started initially with gathering information which turned into joining friends for a Walk For Freedom. That fueled me more and so then I jumped on board with Dressember and then using every opportunity on social media to educate.

Still. Not. Enough.

For me anyways. So it seems this is it. The thing that drives me most—that I want to give my life for.

When I was 12.5 I begged my parents for a purity ring. I am one of those super sentimentalists and I love symbols that hold deeper meaning. I wanted something that reminded me of the love that I was waiting for. I wore that ring every single day for seventeen years. I realized a year or so ago that maybe that ring wasn’t such a good thing anymore. Maybe it was actually a pride thing. And so I slipped it off and left it in a little shimmery green bowl on my dresser top.

Until a few months ago. With thirty just around the corner, I decided I was ready for a new sentiment—a new symbol with deeper meaning to wear around my finger. I wanted a ring that reminded me that I wasn’t waiting for anything or anyone anymore. That I was only living, and I wanted to be reminded daily of what I was living for. I wanted only to see the vision and the passion and the calling that God has set on fire inside of me when I looked down at my hand.

So I started my search. For a new sort of symbol. A new sort of ring. But not just any ring from anywhere. I wanted a ring that was made specifically by and for survivors of sex trafficking. That’s when I came across Starfish Project. Oh how I love what I discovered. I poured over the sweet stories and the beautiful jewelry and found exactly what I was looking for.



I wear that ring every single day and I will for years to come. It reminds me of a new chapter and of old ones—of desires I’ve taken off the top shelf for now. It reminds me that I’ve decided to pursue wholeheartedly the things I believe God has asked of me. It reminds me to be a voice and an advocate for far too many precious people who have been silenced and exploited. It reminds me that at thirty and so far beyond these are the things that matter most to me.

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