Netflix's "Yes, God, Yes" Is The Perfect Portrait of Toxic Purity Culture

As a Texas native, raised as a woman, who spent their childhood within the four walls of a southern baptist church, I hear all too many stories of shame, fear, insecurity, and anxiety from my peers surrounding the themes of sex and sexuality.

Regardless of religious denomination, the notion of "purity" for any young person with a uterus that was raised within a conservative evangelical community is both familiar and deeply uncomfortable. From childhood, that word has followed us like a shadow, a burden of guilt and overwhelming dread. Like so many other terms used to control and belittle women, the definition of "purity" was vague and heavily subjective. While we were taught (in theory) that God is infinitely forgiving, it was an unspoken truth that the congregation was not so.

While we were taught (in theory) that God is infinitely forgiving, it was an unspoken truth that the congregation was not so.

Some girls raised in this toxic purity culture, who manage to keep their reputations in tact through high school, walk into their teen marriages to highschool sweethearts like sheep to the slaughter. Even though they had kept their coerced vow of abstinence until marriage, as purity culture required, they still experienced unbearable guilt and shame at their "de-flowering." A friend of mine in a similar situation spent years working through this guilt and anxiety with a sex-therapist psychoanalyzing the source of her trauma. It turns out beating a women over the head with a chorus of "modest is hottest" backfires when it's time to consummate their marriage.

Other girls lost the prestigious "purity" label in middle school or high school -- through wearing a short skirt, discovering self-pleasure, or (God forbid) making out with someone. For those unlucky souls, putrid rumors spread and intensified like a rampaging trash fire, the stench of hypocrisy and betrayal inescapable. The only remnants it left behind were a scorched reputation and a buried mental health crisis. It didn't matter if the rumors were even true. Without "purity", a girl lost her friends, her dignity, and any leadership or service roles she may have held.

Netflix's "Yes, God, Yes", starring Natalia Dyer (Stranger Things) as Alice, perfectly portrays this process of shaming and controlling young women through toxic purity culture. From the first scene, when Alice (Dyer) double checks her skirt length to avoid breaking strict and sexist dress codes, it is apparent that the adults in her community are not approachable or accepting. It becomes rapidly clear that Alice is the 'good girl', the quiet one, innocent and pure -- and the adults identify and value this characteristic in her.

I won't lie -- "Yes, God, Yes" was basically the story of my adolescence. After sharing the film with a friend of mine who was also raised in a conservative evangelical community, I discovered I was not alone. With few details or themes changed, the plot could apply to either of our lives. Even down to the awkwardly naive banter with the handsome jock, the behind-the-times low-rise jeans, and the "friends" who were never truly friends to begin with. Maybe that was high school for everyone, but the similarities continue.

...I won't lie -- "Yes, God, Yes" was basically the story of my adolescence...

I related to Alice's unsettling anxiety and guilt, as well as the vague sense of damnation for impure actions or thoughts, afraid of this unknown giant called "sexuality", nervously traversing the new terrain of self-exploration sans road map. Despite her best efforts to discover more, Alice retains an impenetrable innocence. Her questions are met with jeers, and she retreats inward. Her best friend Laura (Francesca Reale) calls her "pervy", and even creepy Father Murphy (Timothy Simons) urges her to confess to her rumored sins. The voice of a lone woman is valued little, and self-advocation is all but snuffed out.

As other prior church-kids can testify, church camp has historically been the culmination of the most purity-preaching from staff and the most purity-shaming (read hypocrisy) from peers. For teen Alice (Dyer), school-sponsored camp Kirkos is the setting in which toxic purity culture becomes full-blown hell. Watching teens and teachers spread destructive lies about Alice "tossing Wade's salad" (Parker Wierling) was a painful experience. To make it worse, Wade (Wierling) never mentions the rumors are false, letting down allies of women everywhere.

Alice's experience of sexual discovery met by ferocious purity shaming rings true for many women raised in conservative evangelical communities, and her eventual self-acceptance is a glimmer of hope. I highly recommend Netflix's "Yes, God, Yes" for anyone looking to understand this common (yet under-discussed) coercive tool, fuel their feminist rage, or relive the toxic purity trauma of their adolescence, as I did. This one is for you.