In Christian college, I founded a monthly event called Single Girls Sleepovers. We’d dress up in old prom dresses and plastic costume jewelry, listen to Disney tunes, and color in coloring books while watching a romantic comedy. We were great at having “safe” fun, but the real point of these sleepovers was to spend time in discussion and prayer for our future husbands. (Assuming we were all to be married, and to men.) We’d sit in a circle and talk about our ideal guys, dissolving into giggles when describing body types. Then we’d blast “A Whole New World” and write our imaginary grooms a letter.

We believed in God’s plan, and we were saving ourselves for the men God had already chosen for us. All we had to do was prepare our hearts for the union through prayer and contrition, and when we were finally ready, God would let us meet The One.

We read books called When God Writes Your Love Story, The Bride Wore White, and I Kissed Dating Goodbye. I think it was one of these books, or maybe Brio Magazine (a lifestyle and entertainment mag for teen Christian girls) that sparked the husband-letter trend.

The letters included promises to pray for this unknown boy’s purity and to remain pure for him (though you were unclear where the line was drawn for self-gratification). You let him know your interests, and how close your walk with God was. (“How’s your walk been?” you might add as a postscript.)

The letters were never sent, but collected and saved to present to your husband on your wedding night.

I still have all of these letters. No longer to share, but to keep a record of how I’ve changed.
Here is the first of those letters: