Ever since I was at secondary school, or high school, I always felt different from other students when it came to sex and relationships. A lot of the people around me were already involved in these things, yet I never seen the point in it. People bullied me for being single and for being a virgin, and disgusting rumours about me were spread around school.
I felt to ashamed and pressured, that when a boy from school asked me out, I automatically said yes without thinking of the logistics or any consequences.
I won’t lie, I did actually feel something towards him, but it was more like a ‘crush’ feeling. It’s hard to explain. I thought he was cute, but I felt like we would have made better friends.
I enjoyed the hand holding, but kissing felt gross to me. I thought that maybe I was just waiting for the ‘right one’ when it came to kissing and sex, and that maybe I’d enjoy it more if I did find that right person.
Then one day, he mentioned sex.
I told him I didn’t want to, that I wasn’t ready.
He wasn’t happy about me saying no, but he didn’t mention it after that.
Then a week later he broke up with me. I was so upset. I’d never been broken up with before. It sounds silly, because I was the one that wanted something more platonic, but I just didn’t understand why I was suddenly rejected. After all, he asked ME out.
A month later he sent me a text, wanting us to hang out again.
I said yes! I was ecstatic, yet naive. He was a sweet guy and fun to hang out with. I didn’t want things to be weird between us.
We arranged to meet up over the weekend, and we did.
We had a good time chatting away until suddenly he leaned forward and kissed me. I smiled politely at him and then he said with utter confidence.
‘I’m talking to other girls by the way, is that alright?’
My heart dropped but I nodded and kept smiling.
I felt sick. I felt really sick.
Why did it matter to me so much?
We were broken up, right? Weren’t we?
Was it that rejection feeling again?
After that I stopped texting him, cut off all contact with him and tried to move on.
I could have communicated better, but mind you I was only about 12 or 13.
It took me six months to move on, and even then I struggled with it!
I didn’t have another boyfriend until years later, and this time, I actually fell in love.
He was also a sweet guy and I adored spending time with him. He was really funny and he was a great artist. We spent many nights on video call together, him drawing and me watching him while we talked every so often. This is what I’d always wanted, platonic affection and activities.
Then one day, he turned cold towards me. I asked if he was okay, he said yes. I asked him the day after too and he still said yes.
A couple of days later before I was due to go on holiday, he sent me a text. ‘We have to talk about something tomorrow. Goodnight.’
I fell asleep regardless of the worry and the next morning I woke up to the most hurtful message ever.
‘I’m talking to my ex again. I think we should break up.’
Why the hell did he decide to tell me this when I was supposed to be getting excited for my holiday!?
Despite this I managed to enjoy my holiday, but once again I was left with the ‘why?’ question.
All I wanted was to feel loved, and with two failed relationships already, I was embarrassed and ashamed with little confidence and low love for myself. I thought I was ugly and unlovable. Seeing happy couples made me bitter, jealous, angry, upset, and seeing sex everywhere in media made me confused. Why was sex so damn important!?
Sex scenes and kissing scenes have always made me feel icky. I avert my eyes every time.
I felt like a freak for such a long time.
Why was I so different to everyone else?
By the time I was 18 I started talking to this handsome guy from Manchester. He one day offered to come up and hang out with me and I said that it would be a great idea!
He came up on the train, we walked hand-in-hand on the shore, ate pizza back at my place and soon enough he told me he liked me. I reciprocated these feelings.
For the rest of the night we talked and listened to music.
When he was leaving to go back on the train, we shared a big hug and kiss and said we’d speak again soon.
I never heard from him for six months.
Once again, for the third time, why?
With each passing guy I felt more and more down on myself. I just wanted to love and be loved.
The last time I was involved with a guy was last year in November.
I found him on a dating site.
I know, idiot me strikes me, but I just didn’t want to give up.
He was funny and affectionate but on the second day of knowing him, he mentioned sex!
I was fucking flabbergasted!
Sex!? Less than 24 hours after knowing me!?
I told him no yet he continued on with his sexual remarks and ‘jokes’, which make me very uncomfortable.
So there I left it and I’ve never heard from him since.
This was when I researched and discovered it. ‘Asexual.’
Having a word for how I felt was such a fantastic and relieving experience. I no longer felt like a freak. I could say ‘I am asexual!’ without any shame. I pretty much cried from happiness. I finally could tell people why I was the way I was. I even bought something recently from mysterious.americanmcgee.com. A bunny teddy bear and tote bag with the asexual colours!
So, I’ve never been good with dating and I’ve never found ‘my person’. Some days it sucks but the love I have for my friends, family and pets and the love I receive from them in return is more than enough.
I still zone out when sex and relationships are mentioned, I’ll always prefer platonic over sexual and I’ll always cackle everytime someone remarks ‘I wish I was asexual! It seems easier to be like that!’
Even though being asexual has its difficulties, I couldn’t be happier and prouder to say that I am.
I AM ASEXUAL!!!
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