Exploring sexuality as an asexual person is quite an interesting experience. For me at least, it just didn’t matter for a long time. I never had to think about it because I wasn’t interested in a relationship or hookup. Even when I joined the GSA club in seventh grade, all the stories I heard were about a person being someone’s ‘gay awakening’ or them knowing for a long time that they liked people of the same gender, even if they never had a word for it. And I figured that if I didn’t have these experiences, then I was straight.
That wasn’t the case, evidently, but that is what growing up in a allonormative and heteronormative society will do. I’d say that most people don’t even know what the word ‘allonormative’ means. Just like people don’t really have to think about their heterosexuality if they’re straight, people don’t have to think about their allosexuality if they’re allo. Living in a world where you are the norm makes it unnecessary to think about what else there is.
And when you’re not the norm, it can be hard to recognize that unless you happen upon similar people’s experiences. So, I thought I was straight for a while. Then around ninth or tenth grade I thought I was bi because I realized that I didn’t like guys any more than I liked girls. But in eleventh grade, I realized that that was because 0 = 0.
This is where the internet really stepped up. I learned about asexuality and a bunch of labels on the ace spectrum. For a bit, I was trying to find myself in a label more in the middle. Maybe I was demi, or gray-ace, or one of the many other identities that wouldn’t mean I was completely, one hundred percent different from the majority of the world. But eventually I concluded that nope, I’m asexual. And while we’re at it, I’m sex-repulsed.
It made a lot of sense once I thought about it. For the longest time, I thought sex was something people made up for movies and such, like laser cannons or talking cars or unicorns. How could it be a real thing that real people actually liked? It seemed gross and painful (still does, honestly). When I finally accepted that people do actually have and think about sex, the world became a very uncomfortable place to live in.
You see, I don’t want to be able touch sex with a fifty foot pole. I don’t want to be associated with having sex, with being sexy, or with wanting sex. And the fact that I am lumped into the group of people who do makes me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I want to take everything on my body associated with it and just make it disappear. But I can’t do that, and I can’t control other people’s thoughts, so there’s no real solution (at least, that I’m aware of. If you think of something, let me know).
I’m not really sure why this has such a big impact on me. Maybe because it feels like I’m fundamentally different from so many others. Maybe because of how much sex and relationships are talked about in high school and college. Maybe it doesn’t need a reason.
Being aspec can be an isolating experience for some, as it’s harder to knowingly find other aspec people without explicitly discussing sexuality. I was lucky in that a couple of my high school friends are aspec, so it never felt like I had absolutely no one to relate to. Also, as I recently found out, the majority of my college friend group is aspec! It’s really interesting how we gravitated towards each other, even without knowing it at the time. My theory is that because we almost never talk about sex or romantic relationships, we find it more comfortable to be around each other than non-aspec people.
Simply due to allonormativity, I’ve been surrounded by conversations about hookups and physical attraction, but more than that, I’ve heard about crushes and romantic partners and dates. Romantic orientation is again something that many people don’t have to think about because it often goes along with sexual orientation. For me, it does; for others, it doesn’t. But even as an aromantic person, I’m not romance-repulsed. Orientation is about attraction, so I’ve never had a crush (what even is a crush?), but I don’t dislike the idea of having a partner.
I don’t know if this is a common aro experience, but it’s hard to imagine myself in a relationship without feeling some guilt. I know that aro people can be in romantic relationships just like ace people can have sex, but I wouldn’t feel for them what they feel for me (assuming they’re alloromantic). Even if I love them in a non-romantic way, I feel like I’d be depriving them of being loved in a way that they might want. And this is an issue that I would not bring into a relationship. Also, I’ve seen that when people get into a relationship, their friendships tend to suffer. Not on purpose, but people will want to spend more time with their partner, often at the expense of time with their friends. I value my friendships so much, and they already fulfill everything I could want.
I’m perfectly happy being single and not mingling.
Sydney L. Merrill 