A matter of the heart

Confession: I have been immodest.

And not in the way you would think.

I had grown up being very conscious of modesty. I never liked anyone to see too much of my body, even if it was covered with clothes. When the school uniform required x-length shorts and skirts, mine were always at least an inch or two longer than the requirement. This was partly because I was short and so things were generally longer on me, but I could have had things shortened. I preferred not to push the limit.

I was on the basketball team my first two years at college. I wore a lot of windpants and tshirts. And if it wasn't windpants it was loose fitting jeans. Let's just say it wasn't very feminine. Even after I stopped playing, I maintained the image for the most part. It was easier. I was comfortable.

In spite of my attire, I received attention from one of the guys, and we began dating. I began to dress less like a jock, although I'm pretty sure I still came up short of feminine. It really just meant less windpants.

We dated for over a year. Then he left me for another girl.

As you can imagine, I was hurt. I was angry. I was desperate to get him back. It was like a switch clicked inside my brain. I began to use my body and the way that I dressed as a weapon. I would show him what he was missing.

Even during that time, I don't think I dressed immodestly, at least not very often. If anything, it was a step towards dressing more feminine. But my heart... oh, my heart was as immodest as it gets. My heart was filled with pride, bent on manipulation, and empty of care for others. I was outwardly clean but inwardly dirty. A whitewashed tomb of sorts. It took me a long time to acknowledge that what I was doing was sinful. I think I always knew it, I just wasn't willing to admit it.

Modesty isn't just about low necklines, exposed midriff, or skirt length. It is first and foremost a matter of the heart. Are you a woman who examines her clothing? Great. But more importantly, are you a woman who examines her heart?


*p.s. Thankfully, I didn't get that guy back, and now I have my husband, Tim--a man far better than the one I thought I'd lost.