Looking Back On My Asexy Past

Once I realized that I was asexual, the first thing, besides celebrate that I wasn’t a freak and that I wasn’t alone, was look back on my past thoughts and behavior to see if there was any indication of the fact that I was asexual. And it wasn’t hard for me to determine that there definitely was. It took some time to pin down exactly what it was, though.

I clearly remember the dances in high school, at least for the one and a half year that I was in a traditional high school, and how much I wanted to go. Being an awkward fat girl who fit in with the nerdy, unpopular, crowd, however, my dating prospects were very low. I had a few guy friends, however, and I held out hope that one of them would ask me.

And I would think that this hope to be asked out, and this desire to go to a dance or on a date with this specific person, was having a crush on them.

Of course, looking back on it now, it wasn’t really a crush. It was a desire to be normal combined with what I now would define as a squish.

A crush is a romantic attraction to someone, a desire for a romantic relationship of some kind, a desire that is possibly temporary in nature, possibly never to be acted upon. A squish is an aromantic crush, a desire for a strong platonic relationship with someone; this envisioned relationship is usually more emotional intimate than a typical friendship.

(Via)

Of course, I had no idea what a squish was at the time, so naturally I thought it was a crush. Which led to some level of awkwardness with my guy friends Even though I knew, or at least thought, that I was bisexual by then, I wasn’t ready to be open about it yet.

Of course, I then dropped out of High School, and didn’t have to worry about social things like crushes for a while. That was when I discovered feminism and social justice and asexuality and all sorts of exciting new concepts that pretty much changed my life.

To tell the truth, I didn’t want to accept the fact that I am asexual for a while there. I tried romantic and sexual relationships, and I did my best at them. But in the end, I just didn’t like being in a relationship, and I didn’t like having sex. Which basically confirmed things for me. Not that I really needed that, I suppose, but maybe I did.

I’m pretty much comfortable with myself now. Sometimes I wish that I wanted sex or a romantic relationship. Sometimes I want to be “normal.” But mostly, I’m happy that I’m not forcing myself to be something that I’m not anymore.

Advertisements

Being Aromantic

I am aromantic. At least, I think I am. I’m at the questioning stage, to tell you the truth, but the more I think about it, the more the aromantic label seems to fit me, at least at this point in my life. I’ve been in two romantic relationships, and I’ve found no happiness or fulfillment in either of them. Not that I really needed that experience to prove anything. I just… prefer to be alone. I am like that in all aspects of my life. I am very much an introvert, and I prefer the company of myself over the company of almost anyone else.

I don’t know if my introversion, or my social anxiety disorder, for that matter, has anything at all to do with the fact that I may be aromantic. Both my introversion and my social anxiety are such a deep part of me, that it is difficult if not impossible to separate them from other aspects of my life. So I can’t really say whether or not it does. But does that really matter? It’s all a part of me, of my life and my experiences, and of course it will influence my romantic orientation.

Now, just because I am aromantic and asexual doesn’t mean that I don’t crave human contact, or companionship. I’d be very open to a queerplatonic relationship. In fact, I would love one. But I’m not going to go actively searching for something like that, I don’t think, not at this point in my life. If I’m lucky enough to find someone, then that would be wonderful. If not, well, I don’t think that I’ll be too crushed.

The hardest part for me, regarding aromanticism and asexuality, is the pressure I feel by society. I feel like I’m not supposed to feel this way. I feel like I’m meant to be in a romantic relationship, and to have sex, and all that stuff I’m not interested in. And as much as I like to think of myself as a nonconformist, I still have the urge to fit in with society in some ways. And it is difficult to know that, in this regard, I never will.

I don’t want to compare the experiences of an asexual and/or aromantic person to that of anyone else on the GSM spectrum. After all, as an aromantic asexual I don’t experience systematic oppression and discrimination, and I’m well aware of that fact. But, for example, being gay is something that is accepted as a sexual orientation, in the United States at large. Whether you think it is a choice or not, whether you think it is wrong or not, people generally recognize that gay people exist. The same cannot be said of aromantic or asexual people.

Once again, my intention is not to compare the two. Quite the opposite, I wish to illustrate the difference between being asexual or aromantic and Lesbian, Gay, or Bisexual. I don’t want to say that one is worse than the other, that isn’t my place to say. My point is simply that, as an asexual and aromantic person, I am considered abnormal even by those that accept LGBT folks.

And that’s a hard thing to swallow.

Sometimes I’ve even felt the urge to fake being a sexual, romantic person, and have a relationship and such, just to fit in. But in the end, I want to be true to myself, and if that means that I am considered a freak, well, I can live with that.