Slowly, then all at once

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Chelsie, Female, 16, England

Content note: mention of rape/sexual assault

I always had little crushes on boys through middle and high school, but if we were ever to become ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’, things got weird. With the first few boyfriends, I completely avoided them in order to not have to do ‘touchy relationship stuff’. In year 7, I stayed inside the maths room the whole of break because my ‘boyfriend’ was waiting outside to kiss me. I was frequently called ‘frigid’. I then got a ‘boyfriend’ again in year 7, who I told that I would only date him if we did not have to kiss. Then in year 9 I had another ‘boyfriend’ and for the first time, he meant A LOT to me. We held hands and that was it. We broke up soon after, and I continued to like him for a year when we went out again. This time he kept on trying to kiss me and even though I really liked him, I would turn my head away every time, not through embarrassment, just because I did not want to. We broke up shortly after. I wish we were still friends because he’s pansexual, which is like the opposite to what I am, in a way – but I know he would understand my decisions (we’ve been through similar stuff).
In year 10, I got my last boyfriend, and I say last both because he was the last person i ‘went out with’ and also the last person I ever will. I knew this one would be long term, and it was- 1.5 years. I knew I had to kiss him so I did it and I expected first kisses to feel good but it didn’t, not in the slightest, and I expected it was just because kisses were so hyped up. I thought they might get better but they didn’t. I hated every kiss. It was terribly boring, not in the least fun, more of a chore done only for him. Anything sexual was horrible and boring and he was convinced I had no feelings for him because i never ever wanted to be affectionate. I would avoid kissing at all costs and as the relationship progressed, I realized I could gradually avoid holding his hand and hugging, all those little things i didn’t like.
On March 8th or 9th, i forget which, he basically had sex with me against my consent, in my bedroom after sleeping round (in a different room). It was enough to put me off entirely. I’ve never wanted to have sex, I’ve never wanted to kiss or do sexual things, and the rape strengthened that distaste for it by a whole lot.
I am now able to confidently call myself asexual, borderline aromantic, I’d say. I have no belief in love now, I find it really, really stupid and fake in a way (I hope this doesn’t offend anyone). ‘Love’ is basically like a lustful friendship, so what is the point? I’m happy just having close guy friends. I find some people attractive, but it doesn’t make me want to be their girlfriend or anything. I don’t feel ‘love’ for anyone and I haven’t in a looong time. I barely did with my ex after the first few months of his controlling behaviour.

The First Date

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Stephany, 44, female

I never had a boyfriend in high school, not even a crush in middle school. I had my first date when I was twenty-one, although it was quite unintentional.

This guy and I worked together at our local grocery store. One day he asked if I wanted to go to the movies. We could see “What about Bob?” I liked Bill Murrey, I thought he was hilarious, so I said “sure”.

I though “Gary” just wanted to go to a movie like me and one of my other friends, a girl, often did. As I quickly found out, this was not the case. He came over to my house and I received a cute little stuffed bear in a gift bag. After a brief talk we were off to the movie theatre which was a short walk away.

I’m sorry to that that I was probably the worst date ever, or at least the worst one he ever had. It was so bad that Gary’s older sister called to talk to my mom. (I still lived at home.) The sister wondered if I was really twenty-one and told my mom some of the things that went on, like how I balked when her brother tried to kiss me, and how I had to be talked into holding hands with him. It was more than a little embarrassing for me and my mother had a bit of a laugh over it and told the sister I was “just shy”.

Her response ticked me off so much, because it was just stupid, that I replied “I am NOT shy!” loud enough for the sister to hear.

In the end, Gary, who was apparently broken-hearted that I had said “yes” to a date and then used him to see a movie, moved off to West Virginia about a week later. Our disastrous date had gotten around work too, so I guess he was too embarrassed to work there anymore. Last I heard, he had met a nice lady and had two kids.

I’ve often looked back sadly on my first date. And I swear, I had NO idea it was a date.

I never even thought about dates before, or even how guys and girls hooked up. When I would go through the hallways at school and notice them making out, (which disgusted me,) it never dawned on me how they got together. They just “were”.

Discovering that I am asexual was such a relief for me. Although my first date happened twenty-three years ago, I still feel awful about it because I knew I had hurt him pretty bad, unintentional as it was. I just couldn’t figure out how to explain why, exactly, I was so grossed out by the things he wanted to do, like when he wanted to make out.

But now that I know I am an asexual the puzzle pieces all fit. I can now explain why I don’t want to do this or why I don’t want to do that. And I know that there is a guy out there for me after all, somewhere, and even if I never meet my asexual Mr. Right, just having the knowledge of what I am is enough to make me happy.

Completing the Remaing Part of Me

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Jose, male, 20, Peru.

I started questioning my sexuality back in my first years of high school, when lots of my classmates suddenly got girlfriends (I should add that I attended an all-boys school) that they would brag about. They obviously had a different and “better” status now that they were not single: they weren’t little kids anymore. Most of these relationships were really fleeting as they were only based on looks and popularity. I should also add that there was an all-girls school close to mine, which made dating and the whole process or relationships easier. Even though I barely talked to any of the girls there, I did know who the “popular” ones were as my classmates would always talk about them. I started to wonder why those relationships had to be so shallow and not based on love, which obviously made no sense for someone who naively believed in that love you see in those good movies (aka me).

I felt pretty awkward and left-out when most classmates would talk about which girl they found hotter, which one was the “easiest,” etc. My idea of attraction or love didn’t really go that way, I was more focused on finding another girl like me, someone quiet yet kind who valued the inside rather than the outside. Sex wasn’t even on my mind; I actually felt pretty disgusted by the whole idea of being naked with another naked person. Obviously it didn’t help that the “popular” guys would make fun of these quiet girls, saying some of them were ugly, that they were “nobody” and it wasn’t worth hanging out with them.

As time went by I gradually accepted the fact that I could also have a relationship with someone of the same gender. I never really felt attracted (physically or emotionally) to any of the friends I had because I felt there had to be a special bond first, which never happened; let alone to my other classmates, who had totally different personalities and opposite views on life.

Once college started I made new friends, which included a girl who I stayed close with. I was pretty amazed at how similar we were, how we liked the same music, how we laughed at the same jokes, etc. We would talk a lot and hang out as well, all by ourselves. It had never crossed my mind that we were dating, we were just hanging out, and sharing nice moments. Everyone would suspect and said that we both liked each other, and stuff like that (people never seem to believe in friendship between a guy and a girl). Nevertheless, I started to like her. I was not in love, but I really liked her as a friend and enjoyed her company a lot. We would talk more, hang out more… I gradually became more disappointed when I got to know her more, though. I realized she wasn’t the person I used to know in the beginning, and whenever we talked, we didn’t really talk about deeper things (e.g: what we wanted to do in the future, what made us happy, etc.) but more about petty matters. We gradually drifted apart because I somehow felt lied to, on how she was showing another side of her I didn’t even know existed. We’re still “friends”, and occasionally talk, but again, always about petty matters, not really about deeper things.

I also met an asexual friend in college, but I misunderstood the meaning of that word. I’d always thought it meant someone who did not want any type of relationship with anyone whatsoever. It wasn’t until some time (and recently) that I decided to find out more about who I really was and surprise! I was a biromantic asexual. I just wished I could’ve asked this friend more about asexuality, but either way I feel happy now that I really know who I am.

Despite not having had any luck in love, I’d like to believe that one day I will bond with the right person and eventually will have someone to love.

Wish you all good luck and don’t be ashamed of who you are!

Assuming you are a “normal heterosexual girl” for far too long: Emily’s story

Emily, female, 24, United States.

Growing up, I was a normal heterosexual girl. Or so I thought. I picked out a boy to have a crush on in 5th grade, because everyone was beginning to have boys they “liked.” Not that too many people around me were all that vocal about it, but I think I felt pressure from my mom to have someone I “liked” in that way. We were growing up, beginning puberty, and before long our “raging hormones” would take over.

Except… I never noticed that extreme change. I thought the one or two “couples” who were actually “dating” in middle school were freaks. What did dating mean, for them? Holding hands? I doubted they actually kissed. We were too young.

I watched a lot of TV. I judged what dating was from TV, movies, and a few of my favourite books too. It involved some pretty sexist assumptions like the guy always paying, always driving, etc. It involved being nervous about sex before the big “first time,” which made sense to me. Because I was certainly not ready for sex.

When I was 12 years old, after I’d finished my second sex-ed course ever in my life, I realized something. They had never actually taught it in school, and I had no idea what this elusive sex thing really was. Sure, it somehow involved a penis and a female’s genital area as well. But how did it actually work? You’re kissing and… suddenly your body just “knows what to do?” I had some curiosity about sex, and a lot of confusion. They mainly taught “puberty & reproduction ed,” not sex ed, to my frustration.

Eventually I learned from my dad that the lyric “she goes down on me” in the song “Semi-Charmed Life” by Third Eye Blind, one of my favourite songs, meant “she performs oral sex on me.”

I slowly learned that it was “normal” for guys to masturbate to porn quite frequently. I learned all sorts of things about male sexuality. But I figured I was kind of normal for someone of the other gender. I figured no females got what all the sex hype was really about, none of this stuff was intuitively exciting, no girls were desperate to see guys naked, etc. None of my friends were vocal about anything. If they called a guy attractive, or perhaps “cute” or “hot” I figured they were just drawn to their looks in some vague way. Not that they had any real secret desires for sex!

I was very confused by the fact that girls ended up stuck in the position of having babies while still in high school. Why didn’t people just wait till they were grown up to have sex? To me, having sex, at least when too young, seemed almost like smoking cigarettes. Both were discouraged, and were basically dangerous, and it was so easy to just NOT… (I didn’t realize that people actually were tempted to have sex even before their first try, unlike before their first cigarette.)

I didn’t date in high school, but that wasn’t that weird. It didn’t really feel like everyone had a date. A lot of people, sure, especially by the time senior Prom rolled around, but not everyone. I wasn’t that weird. So I didn’t think to question my default straight status (placed upon me by heteronormativity) much. I considered girls briefly but I figured if I was a lesbian (and I didn’t really know bi was a valid option) I’d know. I’d have such a strong crush on a girl that I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. That clearly wasn’t me.

I attended a college. Lots of schoolwork, not a lot of friends, except for the online variety. I enjoyed vidding in my spare time. It felt like age 20 was kind of when it became too old to have never been kissed, so I was a little embarrassed, but it wasn’t a major stressor for me. I didn’t manage to be very social in school. I was very social in the online vidding-community, though. Also in the online atheism & skeptic community once I finished my Comparative Religions course during my sophomore year. “Angie the Anti-theist” on twitter mentioned that she had asexual friends. I asked her what that meant. She sent me to AVEN’s homepage.

I realized some of it applied to me, but closed the page and waited a few more years before really taking it seriously. After I graduated, at age 22, enough was enough and I needed to start dating. I used OkCupid. My first date was wonderful; we talked for hours. But when the guy kissed me… nothing. No feeling of excitement. No “chemistry.” Just disappointment. We ended up not going on a 4th date. I obsessed over AVEN’s forums, looking for an answer to that elusive question: “What is sexual attraction?” (And is it true that I don’t feel it? That I’ve never been attracted to anyone in that way? Probably.)

It took almost another whole year for me to find another guy on OkCupid (mainly because a lot of the year I wasn’t even trying). We hit it off instantly. I liked him so much just from our first day stumbling across each other’s profiles and messaging a bit. We were perfect for each other. I was 23, he was 22. We were each other’s first boyfriend/girlfriend. But he liked kissing me and I always felt like pulling away. I didn’t ever feel aroused. Not with him. Not when reading erotic fanfiction. Not when trying to fantasize, whatever that meant.

I admitted I’d never masturbated. I told him I feared I might be asexual, but I hoped I was just demisexual. I explained what it meant. I sent him online links. He asked if my religious upbringing had lingering effects, that that was why I never masturbated. I told him while I was raised Catholic, no, I was not repressing any urges. They just weren’t there. My upbringing was never that strict. My dad and boyfriend wondered if I should see a doctor and get my hormones checked. I wondered too. But ultimately the asexual online community assured me that if I had no other reason than my asexuality to question it, then it probably was unnecessary to check, and besides, low sex drive was different to no sexual attraction.

I decided if I tried sexual stuff, maybe I’d like it – or maybe it’d prove that I really was asexual. Sure enough, my first time being naked with my boyfriend was enough for me to feel pretty darn sure. We ended up doing naked stuff on two separate occasions, but never getting too far. My boyfriend was respectful and understanding every step of the way, although a bit disappointed himself. He found me so sexy. He was completely in love with me. He masturbated to fantasies of me orgasming when he performed oral sex on me, or me being the dominate one and him being submissive, or… He couldn’t stop thinking about me. But I didn’t relate. At all. I wished I did. But the more I looked at tumblr’s asexual tag, the more I realized I was asexual and it was okay to want to remain a virgin for my entire life if that’s what I chose. I couldn’t see myself ever compromising for the sake of sex, in order to make any romantic relationship work. I’d much rather find a way to live my life sex-free. We broke up amicably. My boyfriend understood that it wasn’t my fault that I was asexual, it was just who I was. We both had seen the break-up coming as soon as I didn’t enjoy the “foreplay” or whatever you want to call what we did. We both had kind of gone into it knowing that if this experiment in getting me turned on didn’t work, nothing would, and my boyfriend needed to find someone else to have his first real sexual relationship with.

Not too long before my 24th birthday, I freely embraced the asexual label. I’d been afraid of it. I was so used to being a straight girl. But coming out as asexual to my friends and family has been empowering. I don’t feel awkwardly unsure anymore as to why I never was all that interested in dating. I don’t feel scared of sex anymore. I understand my thoughts and feelings better than ever. I am sure of my identity in a way I didn’t even realize that I wasn’t, before. And it’s a really nice feeling. Sure, not everyone really understands my asexuality. But because I’m sure about who I am, I can confidently clarify the truth. (More and more confidentially and clearly with each time I practice coming out to someone.)

I wish I’d learned about the asexuality label sooner. I hope less girls grow up like me, not realizing that it is not the norm for people of the female persuasion to experience absolutely no sexual attraction nor sexual desire. But rather that it means a separate sexual orientation label fits you, and that you are different, but that there are others like you too. So you’re not alone.

My Ascent Into Queerness

Kayla, female, 20, United States.

I never really cared about dating when I was younger. I was literally the only person in the sixth grade at my elementary school who still thought kissing was gross. And I kept that mentality until ninth grade (though in the seventh grade I agreed to be someone’s girlfriend, but ran away and never spoke to him again afterward). My older sister loved telling everyone the reason I didn’t want a boyfriend was because I was still in the “boys are icky” phase. Everyone laughed when she said that and I thought it was true: I was told I would grow out of it, that I was just a late bloomer.

Then in the tenth grade, I started dating (if you can even call it that) my childhood friend, but we didn’t get to see each other much since I moved (back in the eighth grade). When we did get to hang out, it never felt like dates, it felt like hanging out with a friend. I guess that should’ve been my first clue. But anyway, I was over at his house one night and we were watching movies and I was singing along to Glee and then he tried to kiss me. I knew it was coming and kept my face down. I guess he took it as me being nervous, because he didn’t try again. But a few months later we broke up after a fight and I haven’t talked to him since. Now that I can look back on it, that freak out I had when he tried to kiss should’ve been my second clue.

I got my third clue a few months after making my tumblr. I was about eighteen and scrolling my summer away, when I saw a post that said “there is a difference between finding someone attractive and being attracted to them.” That post made me have an existential crisis, I swear to God! I didn’t know that could be a thing! Every time one of my sisters saw a hot guy, they talked about wanting to kiss him and get frisky! I knew about lesbians obviously, so I just assumed that when a woman called another woman beautiful, she wanted to kiss her and get frisky. That post got me thinking and doing research, and thank God it did. I owe the person who made it a lot.

A few days after seeing that post I saw another one that got me thinking, “There’s a difference between liking someone and liking the attention they give you.” I’ve been flirted with a lot in my lifetime, but I have never wanted to date the guys. This post told me why.

So after a few more weeks of research and asking questions, I still wasn’t 100% sure but I told my mother anyway. Biggest mistake of my life! She literally rolled her eyes and told me that I only think that because I don’t go out much. I got defensive (of course I did) and told her what I did know about asexuality and why I think it applied to me. More eye-rolling, but this time she told me to just “tell guys that I was not interested instead of throwing my sexuality out there.” Last time I talked to her for a few days.

Next person I told was my older sister. Second biggest mistake! She laughed for a good minute and flat out told me no I wasn’t because asexual is a science term not a sexuality. I tried explaining it to her, but she wasn’t listening. Last time I talked to her for a few days.

About two weeks later, I was at my oma’s (grandmother’s) house. My mom and I were fighting day and night, so I was helping my oma move into her new house. Her comments hurt the most, because I’m really close to my oma. She scoffed and said “No you’re not; you’ll find someone when you get older.” She was the last person I came out to verbally until summer, when I told one of my aunts (it was January then).

I was beyond hurt and angry about all of these comments, and not just because my family wouldn’t listen and try to educate themselves. It also had a lot to do with the fact that my older sister was struggling with her sexuality too at the time (she’d fallen for another woman) and literally the entire family was really accepting and trying to help. I’m over here swallowing my tears and rage at being scuffed at, and there was my sister being hugged and assured that it was okay. It still makes me cry thinking about it. I told my mom about how I was feeling, but she didn’t say anything. Luckily I had tumblr and my best friend there to talk to, right?

Anyway, I followed a lot of asexual blogs on tumblr and continued to ask questions and figure myself out and eventually started identifying as aromantic asexual. That was about two years ago, and then close to a month ago I realized that maybe I might be something else.

You see I feel sick when I think about getting frisky with anyone; it makes me incredibly uncomfortable to think about someone touching me or me touching them that way. But I have no problem reading and watching porn (though video porn is really boring) – I’d write it too if my smut attempts didn’t suck ass (pun not intended). I masturbate (I couldn’t admit to that until literally two months ago, and I started at like thirteen I think). “Two months ago” is important though, because that’s when I discovered that I’m grey-asexual. I only feel sexual attraction sometimes. And as weird and messed-up as it is, I know that I’m sexually attracted to the thought of my ships going at it like rabbits. That is strange as shit.

Now, I didn’t just discover that I was grey-asexual two months ago. I also discovered that I might be demiromantic (leaning toward homo-demiromantic, since I feel more emotionally close to girls than I do guys), because I think I might be in love with my best friend. I really have no idea and we joke about being in love with each and being each other’s platonic soulmate all the time so I don’t think I’ll ever know. And I’m okay with that, because as long as she’s in my life I’m happy.

Anyway, I haven’t come out really as a demiromantic (leaning toward homo-demiromantic) grey-asexual to anyone but myself and my best friend. I don’t think I’ll ever tell my family or other friends though, because most of them weren’t aware that asexuality is even a thing and none of them really know that sexuality is fluid. So because I made a “huge deal” about being asexual, for me to say something my family will take as almost the complete opposite is just asking for painful comments. And I’ve learned not to discuss my sexuality with my family. I’m only out to a few family members (the ones mentioned above and my little sister) and all they do is roll their eyes and pretend to accept me – no sorry, my mother pretends to accept me, everyone else is convinced I’ll grow out of it.

But aside from all the family drama, I’m trying to be a good advocate for my community by educating people around me (I wrote an essay for English about the different way asexuals and allosexuals view the relationship between love and sex; I got a good grade on it).

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