Froggy Went A-Courtin', But He Won't Ride Until the Wedding Night

I spent the better part of last night watching the new TLC gem "17 Kids and Counting." The program follows the Duggars, a couple from Arkansas who made the decision to "let go and let God," where their reproductive life is concerned. They have 17 children, and wife Michelle is knocked up with number 18.

Last night's shitshow centered around eldest son Josh's, 21, decision to "court" his ladyfriend Anna, 20. At first, this all seemed relatively normal. Josh called Anna's father to ask for her hand in marriage, planned a cute surprise proposal, etc. Soon it became obvious that something a little, uh, different was going on. I thought that Josh was just being a weirdo when he kept talking about "courting" his future wife, but apparently it's a thing that these kids have chosen to do. They don't have sex (not shocking), they can't be alone together, and they basically have no physical contact aside from hand-holding. "Of course the first kiss should be for the wedding day," Josh said (so matter-of-factly that he had me believing it for a minute). Naturally, I scoffed at the whole deal. For me, sex and physical contact play an extremely important role in the formation of a romantic relationship. Plus, my mother always warned me about saving yourself for marriage. You run the risk of being stuck with a man who's bad in bed, and that's just not a risk that anyone can afford to take.

I'm usually most intrigued by things that have to do with bangin' (or not bangin' in this instance), but the most compelling aspect of this whole courtship thing is that, when you court, you don't date. You are to look at every potential partner in terms of marriage and children, and once it's decided that you want to marry them, you can get engaged, and that's pretty much when you start dating. This sounds totally insane and immediately offends my modern-womanness. But when the Duggars started explaining that courtship is basically designed to eliminate the pesky problem of emotional baggage, I kind of wanted to get on the bus. Isn't this just a less orthodox (as far as our current cultural climate is concerned) form of self-protection? The idea of not having all of the issues, complexes, and anxieties that I've been collecting since the age of 15 is almost enough to make me slap on an ankle length skirt and a chastity belt. But what are these kids sacrificing? Independence? Valuable life experience? Emotional growth? Sexual gratification? Sure, but they seem pretty damn happy.