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How Modesty Became My Frenemy

How Modesty Became My Frenemy

Last updated on: October 28, 2015 at 8:44 am by Guest Contributor

How Modesty Became My Frenemy 2015-10-28T08:44:31-04:00 Guest Contributor

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by Allison Westerhoff

Evil is the enemy, not our bodies.

There is a large amount of chatter around the subject of modesty, yoga pants, and where women fit quite literally in the modest clothing wars. But modesty can serve as a double-edged sword. For most young Christian women it’s a confusing and divisive topic. It seems like we can’t decide if modesty makes you a prude, or if you don’t subscribe to it that you are promiscuous. But what about the Christians that are in the middle? Can modesty be both the best friend and the enemy? Does God really care if I wear yoga pants?

Modesty as my best friend.

Modesty was an affirmation that covering my body was the right thing to do. It affirmed that hiding behind baggy clothes and not showing my skin was what kept the unwanted attention away. If I covered up, then a boy would notice my personality and my love of God rather than my body which is a tool for temptation and will fade away in the end anyway. So, keep covered up or a boy will fall in love with you for the wrong reasons.

Being modest meant I could be chubby, cover my cleavage, wear shirts that were too big, and I’d be killing two birds with one stone, hiding my insecurity and being a Godly woman.

All around me, girls were wearing short shorts and tight t-shirts, Spaghetti straps, miniskirts, strapless tea cup dresses, and so many scoop neck shirts. I marvelled at their bodies, and confidence.

But I was doing my duty as a Christian woman, and hiding my body. No one wanted to see my stomach, all wiggly and pale. No one cared to know what was higher on my thighs once they saw the dimple garden above my knees. Every now and then I would try, but fail to really be confident. Sometimes I would wear low cut tops, but the comments from friends like, “Woah, I didn’t know you had boobs like that!” and “God, I wish I had your cleavage,” scared me back into my hole of modesty.

It was comfortable there. I was safe from being noticed. Modesty let me hide a bigger insecurity.

Modesty as my enemy.

What I didn’t realize during my time in high school was that my idea of modesty was a canker sore. It was an internal cut that only hurt me, but from the outside I looked fine.

The thing about faith as a high schooler is that, it’s often a perpetual Bible study of purity and modesty. Faith is about being a good sister in Christ to the stumbling brothers who can’t control their hormones, and it’s dangerous to get too close or move too fast. It was Bible verses filled with keeping a strong heart, being a Proverbs 31 woman, not being like the mainstream girls who wear a lot of makeup and text a lot of guys at once. It was about being patient, waiting for the right person, having faith that you are enough – it’s just not God’s time for you yet.

I held these sentiments close. I saw non Christian friend after non Christian friend become heartbroken and regret things they did.

And then I had my first boyfriend. I found that I was eager to love, and eager to show it. Until he cheated on me. I did it right, though! He was a Christian! He went to youth group, we would pray together, he knew more Bible verses than I did, and he was a gentler and kinder person than me most of the time.

But this is where the illusion was broken.

I realized that my friends who were not Christians that were heartbroken had the same problems that I did. Boys cheat. Girls cheat. Everybody is prone to mess up, even Christians.

The point of modesty is to bring you closer to God by not focusing on your looks and not allowing others to focus on your looks. It is a way of turning eyes towards God, not your womanly curves or manly arms. What modesty led me to believe is that if I was modest, the right kind of boy would fall in love with me. The right kind of boy, as in, a Christian who valued my wit and brain rather than my cup size and kissing skills.

But after watching and experiencing again and again, boys being hurt by girls and girls being hurt by boys across the spectrum of very religious to not religious at all, I came to two conclusions about the illusion of modesty.

First:

These models of “protecting” ourselves and our brothers from being hurt or tempted is only oppressing ourselves from acknowledging one of the most important things: God created us, and it was good. Our bodies are meant to be loved, not shamed. Our bodies are sacred and lovely and diverse! We should not be hiding behind clothing and pointing fingers at others who dress differently or hold different standards than us.

God made us in God’s image. We are born into this world naked. We come into this world vulnerable and already exposed. God scolded Adam and Eve for covering up their bodies! Temptation came from a tree, not Eve’s breasts or Adam’s strong shoulders.

Jesus gave his body as a reminder of God’s love for His creation. He did not leave cloaks or turtlenecks. Jesus gave us His blood, and His body.

Second:

My faith should not be the source of why I cover my body. Modesty led me to believe that the biggest sin and biggest hurt would be all about myself. Modesty became a thin shroud wrapped around a bigger insecurity. I realized that when I was focused on my body, how it looked, and if I was being the right kind of Christian for it, I was really missing the point.

Bio: Allison Westerhoff is currently living in South Africa as a missionary for the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. She is an avid Switchfoot fan and believes Leslie Knope is her spirit animal. You can read more of her writing on her blog, “Little Ginger, Big World” (allihoff.wordpress.com).

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