Domestic Discipline Before “I Do”

 Domestic Discipline Before “I Do”

When people hear that my husband and I practice domestic discipline in our marriage, they often assume it began after the wedding. The truth is, the foundation was laid much earlier—during our courting years in college—long before we ever shared a home or even held hands without intention.

While we were dating, my husband was very clear about his convictions. We did not live together. We did not sleep together. I was a virgin when we married, and our relationship was built deliberately, with boundaries that honored God and protected both of us. Because of that, he also believed that spanking had no place in our relationship before marriage. Even though I was already drawn to structure, leadership, and accountability, he felt physical discipline was reserved for the covenant of marriage.

That did not mean, however, that there was no discipline at all.

During our college years, when I misbehaved—missed curfew, spoke disrespectfully, procrastinated on responsibilities, or tested boundaries—he addressed it. Calmly. Firmly. Consistently. He believed that courting was not just about affection, but discernment. He wanted to know whether I could follow his lead, accept correction, and grow under guidance rather than resist it.

The consequences were practical and, at times, uncomfortable. I wrote lines—sometimes pages of them—reflecting on what I had done wrong and how I would do better. Early bedtimes were enforced, even when friends were out late. I was grounded from social events. Privileges were taken away. Extra chores were assigned, usually when I already felt overwhelmed with schoolwork.

And then there were the physical exercises.

Wall sits that made my legs shake. Planks that tested my resolve. Holding positions longer than I thought I could manage. These weren’t punishments meant to humiliate me; they were meant to teach self-control, endurance, and obedience. He watched closely—not with cruelty, but with intention. Would I complain? Would I quit? Or would I push through and trust that he knew what he was asking of me?

Looking back, I see that those moments were about far more than consequences. They were about character. He wasn’t just correcting behavior; he was discerning whether I was willing to submit to leadership with humility and grace. And I was learning something equally important—that structure didn’t diminish me, it steadied me.

By the time we married, domestic discipline didn’t feel foreign or shocking. It felt familiar. Safe. Earned. The trust had already been built, the roles already understood. Spanking, when it later became part of our marriage, rested on a foundation of years of proven leadership and willing followership.

Our courting years taught me that discipline is not about control for control’s sake. It is about love that is intentional, boundaries that protect, and growth that prepares you for covenant. I am deeply grateful that my husband honored me enough to wait—and wise enough to lead me even before we said our vows.