Coming Out as Asexual

The Asexual Pride Flag. From AVEN

Happy Pride Month!

In honor of Pride Month, I’ve decided to reveal to the world that I’m just not that into you, like ever. It’s one of the rarest places to be on the sexual attraction spectrum, or so I’m told. Personally, I kind of like it here.

When I first saw the term asexual, I was like what is that? In biology, it means lacking gender. In sexual preference terms, it means you’re just not that into sex, like, at all.

It doesn’t mean no relationships or sex ever. It just means we’re not that into it. Some of us choose celibacy and that’s pretty much where I fall into it, but not as a religious thing. Well, not mainly that. It does help that the religion I follow happens to endorse celibacy as a perfectly valid lifestyle choice, one of many things I like about Roman Catholic Christianity.

When I looked into asexuality years ago, my gut reaction was: that’s exactly how I feel about sex! I then immediately thought: but this doesn’t count as a preference. I am NOT asexual.

I stuck the thought way back in the back of my brain. It has now resurfaced in the midst of having a LOT of time on my own to think about things. I’m pretty much the textbook definition of asexual.

I sometimes joke about being into girls or guys. Like yeah he or she is hot. To be honest, I feel approximately the same for both, which is nada. Nice lines and musculature. Love the hair. Love that cologne or perfume or voice. If I really like someone, I do associate certain traits with that person, but it’s never sexual.

Nonsexual attraction I understand. I am attracted to humble, intelligent people no matter what they look like. I’m attracted to honest and interesting people. No matter their gender or age. Title. Employment status. Ability to snuggle or one day parent any children we may have.

I once took this homeless guy on the street out for lunch. We had a very enjoyable conversation. It must have shown on my face that it was an enjoyable conversation. One of my coworkers saw us and asked me later if I was on a date. He wanted me to know the guy was homeless. I wanted to know if he knew what it was like to have compassion on another human being – to not be classist OR sexist.

Society is obsessed with sex. Especially young women and sex. Why is that?

Another glimpse into how I see the world: how many times have my fellow humans had this experience? You meet someone in a public place, and you strike up a conversation. It’s a nice conversation. Then, (shocker) they reveal the whole time that they only want you for sex. They get all shocked and upset when you’re like no thanks.

Meanwhile, I feel like I just got to the end of a phone call with a telemarketer who was only pretending to be my friend. They’re upset because I won’t buy the vacuum. I’m upset because you were trying to sell me a vacuum the whole time. Say so, so I can hang up!

Just saying.

This is me like all the time. Especially as a woman. Some men seem to think all women secretly want them. I think many men are like dogs looking for a warm body that will stay still enough long to hump it.

True confession: it is so difficult for me to imagine physical attraction that I don’t know what that is, not really. It’s kind of like trying to picture a color that I’ve never actually seen because I’m colorblind to that color. I don’t entirely understand what gay or heterosexual means. If I say something that seems like “I don’t get it” – and occasionally I’ve been told that I have – this is probably why.

I believe you. I just do not understand what you are talking about.

I like romance novels because I like romance. I mostly skip the steamy parts because … no thanks. I’ve never really been “in love.” I was married once. People assume it’s because I was in love. Not really. Mostly, it seemed like the thing to do. I’ve chosen guys mostly out of curiosity or convenience, obsessing over them in the same way you might obsess over a TV show or video game.

Truth is, I lack whatever it is that causes people to “fall in love” with other people as opposed to liking them as friends. To this day, I honestly don’t understand the difference. People often use the baseball team metaphor to describe being gay/straight/et cetera. I often feel as if – due to lacking depth perception – I’m happier as a spectator.

A lot of times, people say if someone is gay/bi/asexual, maybe there is something wrong with us. I always want to be like maybe there is something wrong with you. Why are you are so concerned with other people’s sex lives? Don’t you have something better to do? How about knitting?

To heck with the haters. You do you. Whatever you do, make it glorious. Make it real.

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