Pursuing Godly marriage and relationships as an egalitarian? (VENT)

OK, so I found a church that I'll be attending now. What's important to know is that this church is egalitarian, like me. Thankfully, it's theologically conservative; I wouldn't grow spiritually if it was one of these "Progressive Christian" churches. I do want to grow spiritually, and ideally, do some street preaching. I mentioned in my last post that I would attend a luncheon at my church (I did), however, I never made any friends there. I barely know anyone there, and I'm hoping to change that the next time I show up.


This isn't just about making a more Godly inner circle of friends; I mentioned in my previous post (So, I finally found a church. How it's going so far) that I was dealing with romantic loneliness. I go on Twitter, and follow a few Christians, and a lot of them are married young and having or want to have lots of kids. At least 3. Even two of my pastors have 4 kids. And a lot of these Christians I see on my Twitter feed are complementarian as well; Not that there's anything wrong with that.


And then there's me. 27 years old, single, no children. And a lot of those Christians on Twitter I mentioned? I've bought this up before, but they hold very feminine women as the golden standard. Then you have ME. Not only am I a sucker for both physical strength and height (meaning, women who are my height or taller than me; I'm 5'6), but I see total tomboys as wife material. Not the ones who have a feminine side, more like tomboys who can't be girly to save their life. Masculine women. I do want kids, but with a Godly wife who can at the same time, be my bro. A Godly wife who's also "one of the guys." I know I've gotten feedback saying that my tastes aren't necessarily wrong, but the differences between me and the Christians I see on Twitter are night and day.


Something to know is that I've been inspired to make romantic poetry due to the loneliness I've experienced, and I've thought of writing a song titled "Boku no ken" ("My Sword" in Japanese), about a woman who's willing to fight (and possibly hunt) if it means caring for those and others, and the narrator looks up to that and her strength. But the poem I've made below is from a few months ago, and the narrator is more or less a self-insert for me.



If this great city is the city of love,

Then you are by far its greatest attraction.

Not due to gaudy fashion or feminine grace,

But the greatness and allure of France's heroes.





You are the spitting image of Joan of Arc,

A woman of tomboyish charm and manly virtue.

It's this about you that makes me swoon.

Catch me now, my sweet knightess!





Modest bangs and a cutely boyish face.

They turn my cheeks more red than any rose.

Your hair, face, and heart are in Joan's likeness;

I'm sure she's smiling at you from the kingdom of Heaven.





Toned arms that have the virile strength of Roland,

And a body fit for a chivalrous hero.

Your tears, I'm sure, are every bit as noble as his.

I'd be there to wipe them away with only my best handkerchief.





While you don't have his cheating and thieving heart,

Your chest is as strong as Lancelot's and his men.

Unafraid to wrestle boys or defend the weak,

You stand tall among the women of Paris.





If a fool calls me unmanly or a sodomite for loving you,

Then I hope Astolfo brings their lost wits back from the moon.

You deserve a gift on par with his lance and horn;

Besides my heart, that you so gallantly won.





In between a bouquet of flowers, comes L'ongle de Dieu:

A now gilded knife with the name of "God's Fingernail."

Heavy and sharp enough to split the Tarasque's skull,

It bought many knights in my family victory in war.





Cutting through armored men as if they were boneless,

And castrating even the most violent boar,

L'ongle de Dieu was a blessing to my family,

One that I hope to see you join.





Be my bride, and I'll be the best husband in Paris.

I will love you as Christ loves the church.

We'll have a house full of cute little paladins,

And they'll never go a night without tales of their awesome mother.

(This here is another poem I wrote months ago that's unfinished. It's not the main focus, but it does have some Christian theming.)

Of all the women, you're the greatest here in Britain.

A heroine from King Arthur's days, come to life!

Just as he freed Exalibur from its anvil and stone,

You've freed my heart from the stone that walled it up.





Though the Round Table's seats were all taken by its knights,

No doubt they welcomed you as their sister and a friend.

You're tomboyish at heart and manly in spirit.

For those things, we all love you dearly.





Have no shame in your meager chest, my dear.

With it, you can hold others closer to your heart.

That shield, it brings protection to the injured and the weak.

Small as it is, it's as reliable and just as Sir Galahad.





By the LORD's hands, you were fearfully and wonderfully made,

Handsomely and heavily muscled like your brother Lancelot.

With strong arms, you've loved your neighbor as yourself.

Aiding them with their hard labors, chivalry is not lost on you.





And then there's your freckled face, dashing and boyish.

Paired with short bangs; you make me blush and sodomites ashamed.

They confuse you for a man, and pale with horror at the truth.

You've won both my heart, and Sir Dinadan's laughter!





One day, your trickster brother called a sodomite priest,

Introducing you as his brother to the lustful man.

When you showed your womanhood and his shameful sin,

The whole court went mad with laughter; Dinadan soiled his armor!





You were taught well in chivalry by Ector de Maris,

Never raising your hand against your fellow woman.

Far too weak compared to you; maidens are to be protected.

The ideal woman is not a damsel, but a heroine!





Your brother Gawain greens with envy for your courage.

Even when scared to tears and shaking, you never fail to act!

The Green Knight that tested him shares my pride in you.

My dear, you outshine even his great strength in the sunlight!





What outshines that brighter is your majestic height,

That you were blessed by God to share with Sir Galehaut.

Your rivals shake with dread when you tower over them,

For like The Uncrowned King's, your might has few matches for it!





Woman or not, you are part of a brotherhood;

Sharpened and shaped by your friends, strong men with integrity.

In laughter, you all grow in strength, faith, and virtue.

How sad; Sir Mordred, by you all, could have been redeemed!





United you stand, now and forever.

Why, you could bathe with all of these men, and ten more,

And they'd see you as one of them, no maiden to lust for.

Not for having Sir Percival's innocence, but his manly vigor.





Said vigor brings hearts more broken than Sir Tristan's.

Women swoon over you at times, mistaking you for a man!

Then they pray for forgiveness with pouring sweat once you tell the truth.

Your robustness and boyish charm makes my heart pound in my chest.