To the pastors, preachers, teachers, and leaders —

I’m writing this because I need to. Not to fight or argue, but because I’ve sat with this feeling for way too long.

I grew up in the Church. I heard all the lessons about saving yourself for marriage. I believed them. I really did. But I also know what it feels like to mess up. I know what it’s like to carry that guilt. And honestly, what made it worse wasn’t just the sin itself — it was how people in church talk about it.

I’ve been in rooms where Christians say stuff like, “I could never marry someone who’s been around,” or “Once you give yourself away, you can’t get that back.” I’ve heard purity talked about like it’s the only measure of someone’s worth. And when people say those things, I sit there quiet, shrinking inside, because they don’t know they’re talking about me.

It hurts. And it sticks.

I’m not trying to justify sin. I know what I did. I know what the Bible says — “For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality” (1 Thessalonians 4:3). I’ve read that. I respect that.

But I also know this: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1). So why do I still feel so condemned in the very place that’s supposed to be about grace?

Purity culture taught us how to fear sin. But it didn’t teach us what to do when we fall. It didn’t leave room for healing. It didn’t leave space for people like me.

The shame doesn’t just go away. Even when I’ve asked God for forgiveness, even when I’ve cried and repented — I still carry it sometimes because the people around me make it hard to forget. They talk about people who messed up like they’re dirty, or used up, or “less Christian.”

But Jesus didn’t do that. He looked at the woman caught in adultery and said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:11). He didn’t excuse her sin, but He didn’t shame her either. He didn’t ask for her backstory or make her stand up and explain herself in front of everyone. He just met her where she was and showed her mercy.

That’s what I wish we saw more of in the Church.

I’m not saying stop teaching truth. I’m saying teach it with grace. Teach it knowing people in your congregation have already messed up and are sitting there thinking they’ll never be clean again. Speak in a way that reminds us of the cross — not just the rules.

We already know we’ve sinned. What we need is to know we’re still loved.

Please don’t make people feel like they have to hide or fake perfection to be accepted in church. Some of us are already trying to show up with the little bit of faith we’ve got left. We’re trying to heal, to start again, to believe that we still belong here.

Please make space for that.

Sincerely,
Delilah E. Trias