National Coming Out Day.
I'm asexual.
Flat, simple statement that often gets a lot of debate. From my friends, it tends to be the well-meaning assumption that I just haven't really grown-up yet and that I'll get interested in sex later. Or that I'm dismissing sex as something I'm not interested in because I haven't tried it yet.
My parents think that I'm just trying to sound modest, and they tend to laugh. Or, well, my mother has. I haven't told my father yet, and I probably never will.
It's one thing to have people react with outrage/shock/denial to a declaration of homosexuality. It's another thing to have them just not believe that you can be twenty-one years old and genuinely not attracted to people in a sexual manner.
I can find people pretty. I frequently do. One of the phrases I use to describe characters that I like is 'lickable'. That doesn't mean that I would actually like to lick them, just that they look good enough to lick.
In Naomi Wolf's book, The Beauty Myth, she talked about the difference between looking sexy and being sexual, and how Western culture tends to compress the two into one. Asexuality, for me, means that you differentiate between the two quite clearly. You can look sexy. You can think someone else looks sexy. You can see photos of people in different clothes and be able to identify which outfits are cute, pretty, or sexy. You just don't want to do anything about it.
Most of the time, I'm okay with being asexual. I figure it means less heartache if I don't have random drunken hookups or get into friends-with-benefits relationships that turn into something more only on my side. Practically zero chance of STDs or pregnancy. No worries about morning-after pills, birth control or getting a partner to take an STD test pre-sex without causing offense. Being asexual cuts down on a lot of unnecessary stress in some ways.
...Of course, at the same time, I'm living in a society that's very geared towards sex. Magazine covers blare out that they have tips on having better orgasms, better sex, or better pleasing your man. Most people who I could date assume that sex is part of a normal romantic relationship and were we to get into a relationship with them not knowing that I'm asexual, they'd have to either be celibate or break it off. I'm lucky in that my boyfriend is also asexual, but that doesn't mean that I don't sometimes wish that I wasn't. Sex isn't my thing, but orgasms are something my friends rave about. A lot. I kind of would like to try that, but know that my dislike of being touched sexually would definitely get in the way. I can't even trick my brain with the argument that according to medical journals, orgasms good for your health and therefore, this is just like getting a check-up.
I'm pretty sure the benefits of not worrying about STDS and pregnancy outweigh orgasm-benefits, where health is concerned, but I still do end up thinking sometimes that it would be nice to have a different sexuality. Lesbian, bisexual, heterosexual -- I'm not picky. I'm not self-hating either. I've tried both heterosexual and lesbian relationships, and neither worked for me. I can safely say that I'm not attracted to either gender and it's really not as simple as me just not having found the right person.
I suppose that it doesn't really matter, in the end. I am what I am.
And what I am just happens to be asexual. I can live with that.
Flat, simple statement that often gets a lot of debate. From my friends, it tends to be the well-meaning assumption that I just haven't really grown-up yet and that I'll get interested in sex later. Or that I'm dismissing sex as something I'm not interested in because I haven't tried it yet.
My parents think that I'm just trying to sound modest, and they tend to laugh. Or, well, my mother has. I haven't told my father yet, and I probably never will.
It's one thing to have people react with outrage/shock/denial to a declaration of homosexuality. It's another thing to have them just not believe that you can be twenty-one years old and genuinely not attracted to people in a sexual manner.
I can find people pretty. I frequently do. One of the phrases I use to describe characters that I like is 'lickable'. That doesn't mean that I would actually like to lick them, just that they look good enough to lick.
In Naomi Wolf's book, The Beauty Myth, she talked about the difference between looking sexy and being sexual, and how Western culture tends to compress the two into one. Asexuality, for me, means that you differentiate between the two quite clearly. You can look sexy. You can think someone else looks sexy. You can see photos of people in different clothes and be able to identify which outfits are cute, pretty, or sexy. You just don't want to do anything about it.
Most of the time, I'm okay with being asexual. I figure it means less heartache if I don't have random drunken hookups or get into friends-with-benefits relationships that turn into something more only on my side. Practically zero chance of STDs or pregnancy. No worries about morning-after pills, birth control or getting a partner to take an STD test pre-sex without causing offense. Being asexual cuts down on a lot of unnecessary stress in some ways.
...Of course, at the same time, I'm living in a society that's very geared towards sex. Magazine covers blare out that they have tips on having better orgasms, better sex, or better pleasing your man. Most people who I could date assume that sex is part of a normal romantic relationship and were we to get into a relationship with them not knowing that I'm asexual, they'd have to either be celibate or break it off. I'm lucky in that my boyfriend is also asexual, but that doesn't mean that I don't sometimes wish that I wasn't. Sex isn't my thing, but orgasms are something my friends rave about. A lot. I kind of would like to try that, but know that my dislike of being touched sexually would definitely get in the way. I can't even trick my brain with the argument that according to medical journals, orgasms good for your health and therefore, this is just like getting a check-up.
I'm pretty sure the benefits of not worrying about STDS and pregnancy outweigh orgasm-benefits, where health is concerned, but I still do end up thinking sometimes that it would be nice to have a different sexuality. Lesbian, bisexual, heterosexual -- I'm not picky. I'm not self-hating either. I've tried both heterosexual and lesbian relationships, and neither worked for me. I can safely say that I'm not attracted to either gender and it's really not as simple as me just not having found the right person.
I suppose that it doesn't really matter, in the end. I am what I am.
And what I am just happens to be asexual. I can live with that.