TDOC, Chapter 9: I'm Standing Here Doing Nothing But Aging

The final bit! I promise!

Whilst vigorously searching the Internet to hear other people’s opinions on this topic, I was disappointed to see that, while there are literally dozens of websites and blogs dedicated to promoting the ideals of courtship, there is virtually nothing that even mentions the possibility of courtship having a darker side (except for the occasional Christian-betrothal advocate, who believes that the courtship system is too worldly and permissive—but that is truly another story). Consequently, I don’t know if there is anyone out there (with the exception of my sister) who has the same insider view on the courtship world, and feels the same way about it as I do. So to all you parents who believe that courtship is the only option for raising godly children, do consider my story and think of me once in a while. Think of me, who was tirelessly protected from the dangers of emotionally damaging break-ups, irresistible sexual temptation, and basic cultural competence, but was left totally vulnerable to something that often feels just as dangerous: the probability of long, long years ahead filled with female friends, Christian service, parental involvement, and complete and utter loneliness. Think of me, who seriously had nothing better to do than write this stupid article. And to all you shining-eyed sixteen-somethings who think I am just being whiny: grab a coffee with me in about 5 years, and we’ll talk. However, if there is anyone else out there who reads this and can sympathize with it, know that my heart goes out to you. Know that you are not alone in your loneliness. Know that there is at least one other person on planet Earth who is trapped, like you, between the high expectations of well-meaning parents, and an outside world that was never designed to accommodate those expectations. We are capable of understanding each other, because we are the ones who sat at home on Friday nights and cleaned the bathrooms while all our friends ate in fancy restaurants or went on long walks in the park. We are the ones who have stayed up late countless nights as if we could convince ourselves that another day was not going to pass by in which nothing had changed for the better. We are the ones who will probably spend the rest of our lives babysitting our neighbors’ children and ironing our fathers’ shirts, while every hour that passes makes it more and more unlikely that a change will ever come along. And at the risk of sounding melodramatic, we are the lost generation.

-Violet