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The consistency and openness was so new it felt weird.

I told him this all the time: “You’re weird.”My romance with Justin was innocent and sweet. We went rollerblading and biking; we did karaoke, went to the movies, took an improv class together.

One Sunday my volunteer position was to stand in the elevator welcoming people, passing out candy and pushing the button to the eighth floor. One nudged the other and said, “If you don’t talk to her, I will.” His friend left the elevator, but he stayed on. But there was something sweet about Justin, and I was at church, so I had to be polite. The day arrived, and we had a great time—until the check came. And I’m going to pay for the next dinner after that.

When my grandparents met Justin, my grandmother was cordial but cold. When it came time for them to leave, my grandparents didn’t even acknowledge him.

Because we weren’t sleeping together—for Justin, abstinence was a firm commitment to his faith—we never tempted ourselves by going over to each other’s apartments late at night.

But we’d go to late movies or take walks through the city together.

A New Model: What Confidence, Beauty, and Power Really Look Like. He rode up and down with me a few times, and he seemed to be looking into my soul when we talked. I went to the bathroom, and when I returned the check was still resting on the table with his half on top. I paid my share of the .25 and thought, This is the last date. When you told me you were a model, I assumed you were one of those beautiful women who uses guys for a fancy dinner. I do well for myself, and I’ve been burned because of it.

Four months into our knowing each other, my now husband, Justin, said, “I really like you, and I really want to be your boyfriend. For a month Justin called, texted, and emailed, but I stuck to my guns. I don’t want to go out with anyone who only has me around so I can pay for stuff.”And just like that, I had my first experience of what it meant to communicate with a man.

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