Respecting a Person's Gender, Sexuality, and their Personal Choices

A while ago somebody I know came out as transgender at my school, and whilst many people congratulated them, there was a small minority of people who decided to bully this person. They subjected this person to threats, and even some quite horrible comments – one person had actually said to this person that "(they) are not transgender until (they've) had the surgery, and (they're) only saying that (they) are transgender for attention". Quite a few people stood up for this person, including myself, but in the end, the bullying had gotten so bad they had to leave the school.  This got me thinking: why do some people care so much about another's choices about their identity? If a person feels comfortable identifying as a boy or a girl, we don't maliciously attack them for their choices – but when it comes to people identifying as trans, or even non-binary, some people try to make them feel like their choice is wrong.  

I identify as non-binary; I go by the they/them/their pronouns. I don't feel entirely comfortable identifying fully as a girl, nor as a boy. Not a lot of people know that I identify as non-binary, as when I've told some people who are quite close to me, they've told me that I "can't identify" with the they/them pronouns because I'm either fully a girl, or fully a boy. Even though I've told them that identifying as non-binary makes me feel more comfortable as a person, their response to me was that "I'm never going to feel comfortable because that's how the world works." And they also mentioned that they're not going to use the right pronouns, which, of course, made me feel miserable. People seem to be making this big deal over one choice, me asking people just to respect something that makes me feel comfortable about myself is only small. The world isn't just boys or girls: gender is on a spectrum, and I think people need to realise this more.  

A person's sexuality also doesn't have a major, and detrimental effect on another person. We live in the 21st century, and, yet, we still seem to act like opposites attract each other, and nothing else matters. A person can love whomever they want, so why do we slander people if they express their love for another? I've mentioned before that I'm queer, and I have had homophobia directed towards me – although when I have stood up for myself, and presented arguments saying why we should respect everyone for who they are, they have backed down.  

Our world thrives on diversity, but we often suppress certain elements of it. If we truly want to live in a peaceful world, we need to start acting kind and respect each other's decisions. Honestly, if we do this, the world will a much better place. 

Read More

Coming Out: Sometimes It Doesn't Go To Plan

Coming out is monumental for anyone who identifies as LGBTQIA+. There’s no right or wrong way to do it. Some people write letters, others bake rainbow cakes covered in sprinkles. How I came out isn’t nearly as well-planned or delicious. 

Early last year, I found myself falling in love for the first time. I didn’t see it coming. We’d been friends for a while, but literally overnight, something shifted in our friendship. I found myself on a crazy, passionate and utterly terrifying roller coaster with another girl.

Before her, I’d always identified as heterosexual.. But I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said I’d never been curious.. With her, it became crystal clear that I definitely wasn’t straight.

She was witty, talented and beautiful. Sometimes I felt like I’d won a prize to stand next to her. Neither of us were ready to be out, but for the first time, I had to accept a side of myself that I’d ignored. 

Months passed and the more sure I became of her and our secret relationship, the more doubts seemed to creep into her mind. Eventually, she broke my heart.

At first, I tried to hide my heartbreak from my family and friends. It was 3pm on a Sunday when I knew I had no other option than to tell them - I wasn’t coping and I couldn't hide it anymore. Before I could change my mind, I stumbled into the kitchen and tried to tell my mum the secret that had been hanging over me for months. I choked on the words. For the next half an hour, she just held me until I could whisper what was wrong:

            I was in love with a girl.

           The girl had just shattered my heart.

           I was sorry for lying to her and dad and I hoped they still loved me.

What happened next is something we all hope  for. My mum smiled and told me whoever I decided to spend my life with would never stop them loving me. In fact, she’d guessed months ago and had been prepping my dad for the revelation. I went to bed that night knowing how unbelievably lucky I was. 

I came out to my friends next. Some were extremely hurt – they felt like I’d lied to them, and didn’t trust them. For a while, our friendships were difficult and rocky. I felt huge amounts of guilt because of this. Maybe if I’d come out ‘properly’, when I was ready and had planned to, they’d have taken it better. Despite their feelings, they still dragged me out for coffee, bought me bath bombs and told me it’d get better.

And it did. Happiness seeped back into my life. But this notion of not coming out 'properly', in the way I wanted, kept tormenting me. As the time passed, I started to realise something important. No, I didn't get to come out the way I hoped to, but that really didn't matter at all. In all of this, I had missed the most important point:

Coming out, for any reason, in any fashion, sets you free.

Tips for coming out:

1. Beforehand, binge watch every gay or semi gay tv show – OITNB! The L World! Queer As Folk! When We Rise!
2. Only come out if it's safe to do so - your safety is more important than anything else.
3. If it isn't safe, bide your time. Make plans, start saving money, and know that one day, you'll be able to. 
4. Don't let anyone pressure you into coming out.
5. Expect to feel elation, followed by surrealism, followed by exhaustion.
6. You might find it easier to come out to strangers at first, rather your friends and family. Don’t feel guilty – it’s a practice run.
7. People will ask a lot of questions. Don’t feel that you need to answer anything you’re uncomfortable with.
8.  If you’re like me and don’t ‘look gay’, you’ll have to come out again, and again and again. That’s okay – you’ll get super creative with your methods!
9. If your family and friends truly love you, they’ll keep loving you, even if they struggle to understand it.
10. You’ll find life is suddenly a lot lighter and brighter when you’re not hiding anymore.

Finally, don’t feel bad if you’ve read this blog post and you’re worried you won’t ever be ready. A year ago, I’d have said the same thing. You’ll know when the time is right.

         Advice Websites:

   

            LGBT Foundation - Coming Out Support

          Stonewall - Help and Advice

         

          Stonewall Youth

Read More

A Little More on Asexuality

Recently I was asked a question by a friend and I thought that it was quite important and probably quite helpful not just for said friend but for asexual awareness. And I really want to help other people to understand asexuality a little bit better.

The question was quite simple. How do you know you're asexual and that you haven't just found the right person yet?

Now I'm not saying that meeting the right person won't change how I feel about sex, so it is possible that I simply haven't met the right person.

However, despite that, the reason that I know I'm an asexual is a lot more to do with meeting the right person and simply knowing what I am like and what, incidentally, I like.  

As a person growing up in this world, it is hard not to see all the references to sexual attraction. It is there in books, there in films and most likely it is there with the people around you as well. That reaction that people get when they see someone physically attractive. The way that they want to have sex because of how someone looks. 

This is not something I have ever felt. I have admired a lot of people for their beauty and very much enjoyed looking at handsome men on TV but I wouldn't end up daydreaming about them or feel anything sexual towards them at all. It is more just an appreciative-ness for their beauty.

Of course, that in itself does not make a person asexual as it might just mean that they've never found someone sexually attractive. But when this feeling is combined with a lack of fantasising about sex at all, questions need to be asked and answered within yourself. Which is where I found myself. And I tried. I tried to have sex and I tried to be sexually active but I never truly got into that "zone". 

When I fantasise, I always imagine other people having sex. I never, ever imagine what it would be like to have sex myself. It literally never even comes into my brain. Trust me when I tell you that when you read books and watch TV or film and people fantasise about sex all the time, it makes you very aware of how little you care about it.

I am not going to lie to you. I have been with three people in my life sexually. And each and every time different things happened. In the first instance, my body reacted. I very much enjoyed my sexual experience but what I liked most was not so much being pleased but being able to please my partner (who was also my boyfriend at the time). The second time wasn't very good at all. He was a little too forceful in trying to get me to touch him that when he tried to touch me I ended up pushing him off and leaving. And the final time I was too drunk and he was too drunk and I just didn't want to do anything and as soon as he realised he wasn't getting any, he left sharpish.

So maybe my sexual experience isn't enough to determine that I'm asexual. Because I haven't given anyone enough chance to see if I might like sex, right?

But here's the thing. I don't want to see if I might like sex.

I literally have no desire to have sex.

And that is why I know that I am an asexual. And I am 100% okay with that. And maybe one day I will find someone to spend my life with who feels the same. Loves me for who I am and all of that.

Read More

There's something I've been meaning to mention...

So I vaguely hinted several months ago that I wanted to write a post related to Faye's post about her asexuality but then didn't actually write that post for whatever reasons (usually because I'm awful at getting my posts done ahead of when I'm meant to be posting and I didn't really want to rush this one). Yes I may be writing this at 11pm but I can't avoid doing it any longer.

Several of my friends already know this about me as it's something we've discussed at several points over this year, I've gotten more comfortable with owning this aspect of myself although it's probably not something I will be explaining to my parents any time soon because they will likely be a bit confused as to what it means for my long-term relationship. But I digress.

I'm Demisexual. Also Bi (whether sexual/romantic I'm not entirely sure).

Image source

Yeah. That. If you don't happen to frequent the internet bubbles that I usually inhabit, Demisexuality may not be a label that you've come across before. Simply put; if Asexuality is the absence of sexual attraction/desire then Demisexuals reside partway along the spectrum back towards hetero/homo/bi/pan-sexuality. For a super cool comic on Asexuality here's Alice Oseman being staggeringly talented as always.

Demisexuals like me tend to only feel sexual attraction to people we have strong emotional bonds to, e.g. people we're in romantic relationships with. For me it also means that even within a relationship I don't often feel the desire for sex (with a partner anyway but that's another thing...). Until recently this lack of desire bothered me because I thought something was wrong or defective with me that I didn't want to have sex as often as I thought "normal people" should.

I'll be honest, I was fairly late in ditching the imaginary V-card. I was not far off 20 when I "fled the nunnery" as I termed it at the time despite being two and a half years into what ended up as a three year relationship (first of only two long-term bfs, nearing four & a half years with Le Boyf). Not that we were chaste little chaps for all that time but we didn't actually do the entire deed until 2010 and after that no more than a handful of times before we split up.

Then followed 18 months of singledom. Which was fine. When I met for drinks with some school friends during this time they'd lament to me how terrible it was that they'd not had sex for two weeks, I sat there and shrugged saying "talk to me when you're over a year." In actuality I was probably getting off far more than they were and I didn't need or want a bloke for it. I had myself.

I'm sure a lot of Safe Space readers know of Grace Latter and her infamous & brilliant blog post on Female Masturbation. When I read it I was like "yas!" only I was waaaay earlier to this game. At the age of 26 I can actually say that I've been getting mine for half my damn life. All through high school I was never interested in having sex because I didn't really see the need for it when I could dole out my own pleasure as and when I wanted it. No reason to deal with messy teenage boys at all!

In some respects I wonder if this influenced my demisexuality because in the years I wasn't having sex I'd been imagining what it would be like but then when I actually did it, it never felt as mind-blowingly awesome as I'd thought it should and that feeling has persisted. It morphs into anxiety & over-awareness of what I'm feeling and that I'm not enjoying it as much as I think I ought to be which is obviously only going to make me more tense etc.

So I don't have sex very often. And that's totally cool, it doesn't mean I love Le Boyf any less or that our relationship is without physical affection, that's just how I roll as a Demisexual. You get me?

But I should talk about the other flag I fly under. It's become very apparent to me in the last year or two that I don't just find men attractive. I can't tell you how many times I've been scrolling through tumblr, seen a picture of Daisy Ridley and thought "my god, could you *be* any more glorious?" I could start a list of the actresses I find attractive but then this post will be even longer than it is.

Identifying as Bi is slightly more complicated for me as the Demisexual aspect means my attraction to men or women is less "I wanna have sex with you" and more "I am super enthralled by your face/clothes/personality/creative skills and want to mildly stalk you on the internet". Obviously being in a committed long-term relationship means that any attractions I do have will not be acted upon but that doesn't mean I can't flail about on Twitter that I want to marry Kate McKinnon (who doesn't?).

I hope this long-winded tour of my sexuality has cleared up a few things. I know I have confused folk in the past :P It's also really good to get this all out there. *and breathe*

Read More

All About That Positivity

It came to my attention at the beginning of this week that it was #asexualityawareness week. Now, with that and with my promise that I would now be a more vocal voice for the asexual community, I thought today was a perfect opportunity to talk to you about the positives of being asexual and of being out about it.

Because we can sometimes get dragged down by the negatives of things. The difficulties we face fitting in, the terror of coming out, the struggles we continue to face when we meet new people, etc. And today, I just want to push all of that aside. I want to stand up and say, yeah, that stuff happens but also, there are good things about this sexuality, it's not all doom and gloom!

So yeah, here's just a little list of the things that I have found really positive about asexuality and about being honest about my sexuality.

• Our label is Ace. 

I mean. Seriously. How cool is that? I get to just stand up and shout "I'm ACE" to the world. If, you know, I felt like it.

• The Community.

Okay, in all honesty I've still not dived fully into the community yet because, busy, but from what I've seen so far, everyone is so incredibly amazing. There's support if you need it. Advice if you need it. Love if you need it. No one judging. Everyone understanding. It is literally a wonderful thing.

• LGBT Community.

So, I do still a little bit like an outsider in this community, a participant who often gets missed BUT I also love it so much. I love the camaraderie and the support and the love and just, they all get it. They understand the coming out issues. The struggles of not being heteronormative. And they will be there for you as much as they can be.

• #AsexualityAwareness Week

This may seem odd in here but honestly, this is so incredible. When I was a teenager I didn't even know asexuality existed and now there's an awareness week for it. I mean, how wonderful is that? Someone may be struggling to understand themselves, struggling to fit in and then they might stumble across something online this week and it might just click for them and that is just incredible to think about.

• Helping Others.

Okay, I am not going to go out on a limb here and say that my coming out post on here did help people but I do know that some people have come to me to say they understand themselves a little better now. I know that I've been thanked for my words and supported by a lot of people. So while I know I may not be making a huge difference in the world, if by being out and proud of being Ace helps make a huge difference to one person's world, then I'll take it. We all need to support each other.

• Educating Others.

I'm not a teacher and while I used to want to be a teacher, I no longer feel I could do the job. However coming out as ace to some of my friends was an interesting experience because despite having trans, bi and gay friends, they had never heard of asexuality. So it meant that I could educate my friends on what my sexuality is. What it means for me and how it differs from person to person. Meaning that my friends now have a further understanding of the world that they didn't have before and that is pretty spectacular.

• No More Pretending.

When I was growing up, I had to try hard to fit in. I had to talk about boys in a way that I never truly felt and I was worried that people would work out that something was wrong with me so I even went so far as to date boys too. Needless to say it never worked out. But now that I'm out in the open about everything, I no longer have to say things like: "I would get into his bed so fast, the world would collapse." - And yes, I have said things like this before now.

• I am who I am.

I know who I am. It's such a weird concept and it's hard to describe to people who have never truly had that clarifying feeling about their lives but now that I understand more about asexuality, now that I know what it is and that I relate to it, I feel so much more confident in myself. I feel at peace with my body. I no longer have to try and get it to feel something deep inside when looking at other people because I am fully comfortable in the understanding that I never will. I can appreciate physically attractive people on a base level and then continue on with my life without ever thinking of them again.

That's all I can think of right now. I am sure there are more but mostly I am just happy to be "out of the closet" (even if I hate that expression) because I feel so much more comfortable but I also know that there are reasons to not share your asexualness with people. So I want to finish by saying that please do not feel pressure to tell the world about your sexuality. You need to do what is right for you. But I also want you to know that no matter who you are or where you are, I will always be here for you.

Read More

My Sexuality.

I’ve known that I was a little different to other girls in regards to romance and sex from a fairly early age. I remember having sleepovers at 13 and we’d all go round in a circle and confess who our crush was. And when it came to me, I always drew a blank. I had no answer, and my friends thought I was being coy and no fun. But the truth was that I just didn’t like any of the boys at our school.

As a teen, I put this down to having a lot going on in my life and not having the time to focus on sex and boys. I mean, my mum was sick with cancer and a lot of my free time was taken up with that, which was a perfectly viable explanation for my lack of hormones and attraction towards guys right?

Over my school years I was asked out by a few guys, all of which I turned down. Partly because I was point blank terrified of commitment, but also because I wasn’t attracted to them. When people asked me about celebrity crushes, I grabbed for names and said the obvious ones like Zac Efron and Sam Claflin (although I’ll admit, both of these crushes were pretty genuine). When we talked about ‘girl crushes’ though, I became so animated. I had about 5 actresses and musicians ready to go in my head, and I remember having these ‘girl crushes’ as far back as the age of 12.

Turns out, they were just the regular kind of crush.

I didn’t realise I was bisexual until I was about 18. When I tell people this, they’re pretty shocked and often respond with ‘Surely you knew sooner?’ and maybe subconsciously I did. But heteronormativity is rampant in our society, and whilst I supported LGBTQ+ rights from a young age, I never let myself think that I was maybe a member of the community too.

As soon as I realised this, everything in my life made so much more sense. All that jealousy about when some of my friends got boyfriends, all the actresses I looked up to and adored, all the female characters I loved and were obsessed with. As soon as I realised I was attracted to girls, there was no way of denying it.

It’s taken me two and a half years to become fully comfortable with the label and myself. There have been many times I’ve questioned it, and I’ve spent a lot of time, especially in recent months, questioning whether I am in fact bisexual or gay, but I have and do sometimes experience attraction to men – just not nearly as much as I do with women.

I still struggle telling people in real life sometimes. There are a number of times in the past four weeks at University I could’ve just told people, but instead I sat back instead, stumbling over the words. I told myself before coming to University that I wanted to be totally open about my sexuality, but when it comes to the crunch I panic. It almost makes me angry that I even have to tell people, that people just assume I’m straight unless I explicitly state otherwise.

My journey with my sexuality has been long and one that is still ongoing. But I know that even compared to last year I am so much more comfortable and happy with who I am, and hopefully that can continue into the future.

Read More

Guest Post: Gender - That Thing We Made Up by C.M. Golding

Someone on twitter recently said that in fifty years we’re going to look back at binary concepts of gender and shake our heads at how silly we were. Well, I’ve been doing that for a while now and I’d be delighted if more folks would join me but I also get, to a degree, why that’s hard. The biggest reason it can be tough to understand is that we constantly conflate gender and sex. Sex is a medical, physical, biological state that has to do with hormones and genitals. Gender is a completely made up set of rules about what it means to be “feminine” or “masculine.” And it’s that made-up part so very many people refuse to accept.

A recent poll of people under the age of 25 in the UK conducted by The Guardian had nearly half say they didn’t care about labelling their sexuality, which is for many inseparable from gender identity because when you boil down gender politics what people seem to be really obsessed with are genitalia and what gets done with it - as though the physical act of sex is all there is to a human being and, as stated before, not seeing that sex does not equal gender.

As a young girl I was often called a tomboy and as a teen a number of people suspected I was a lesbian. Was it because I seemed interested in girls? Nope. It was because I never minded getting dirty, rarely wore skirts, and wasn’t into makeup. It never really bothered me that people thought I was homesexual, but it should have. Not because that’s a bad thing to be but because their reasons were incredibly gendered and sexist. As I got older, people asked less because I was involved in long-term cis relationships. But I was still often asked why I didn’t wear makeup or dress “nicer,” which is code for skirts. And I was told that if I wanted to be happy and also demonstrate my adulthood, I should start being more feminine. To which I rolled my eyes and bought some more jeans.

I started more deeply questioning society’s obsession with gender and sexuality when I was pregnant for the first time and virtually every person’s initial question was - is it a boy or girl? I asked around and every parent I knew had the same experience. Not only that, but if you said you weren’t finding out or you were but were not telling, people got offended, even angry. A friend who kept it quiet had an older relative aggressively pursue her to reveal her fetus’ sex because otherwise she’d “have no idea what present to get.” Blue or pink still dominate infant clothing choices. I had a woman scold me for putting my infant son in purple because she’d assumed he was a she - as though a mistake like that matters at all.

How can you explain to someone whose ideas of gender are rooted in a binary system that’s man-made and completely subjective? First, find a 13-year-old and explain to them why a flimsy, colored piece of paper with the number 20 inked onto it has value and can be exchanged for goods. The answer is that a long time ago a bunch of guys agreed to have papers represent their debts because it was easier to carry around than gold. Everyone went along with it because when men in power make those kinds of choices the rest of us are just stuck with it. This is my new go-to when discussing gender fluidity with people. I explain to them that the binary idea of male and female is a social construct just like money and it’s just as paper thin.

I believe and have personally experienced with myself and my two boys, who like fairy wings just as much a trucks, that gender is just this thing we made up to explain and separate humans based on physical differences. We did it because our brains like to be able to put things in boxes. We think men are all testosterone and women all estrogen when in reality we all have both of those hormones to varying degrees. Eddie Izzard recently said, in an interview with The Times, that he’s transgendered because he’s got some female genetics and he likes high heels. Well, I’m not trans but I imagine I’ve got some above average testosterone and I hate heeled shoes. Very few of us really fit completely comfortably in the man-box and woman-box; so why do we insist, when others make their own boxes, that they can’t or shouldn’t? Fear is no justification for hatred. In the dark, we look for the light - reach out and find a way.

Bottom line, and here I know Eddie agrees, let’s just all be free and equal people and what other people do with what may or may not be in their pants can be their business.

For more from Clare follow her

Read More

Proud of Being in Pride

When I planned out my Safe Space topics, I knew that June was going to be about sexuality. Its Pride month, and it seemed appropriate to shout about. I thought this would be a post about being bisexual, or the difficulties in getting dates, but instead, I want to talk about how Pride month this year has been different. 

For the past two years, i.e. as long as I’ve lived in London, I’ve volunteered at Pride. It has been a great way to meet new people. I enjoy being part of it, and have always had great fun afterwards in the depths of Soho.

Flashback to 2014, my first time volunteering at London Pride and meeting Dr Christian! #Pride #London #LGBT #LondonPride #Londonlife

A photo posted by Snuggling on the Sofa (@snugglingonthesofa) on Jun 26, 2016 at 4:48pm PDT

I knew this year was going to be a little different, because one of my best friends joined the Navy, and he was my go-to party friend. I also missed an interview for the role I wanted at Pride, because I had to work. So I dithered and dithered about what else to volunteer for. 

And then Orlando happened. 

I know that America has tons of shootings all the time, but this just really shook me. I don't know whether it was the scale of trauma, or the fact it occurred in Pride month, in a gay club, where people were dancing away. It could have easily been me. I attended a vigil in Soho with my friend Charlie the day after, but nothing really seemed to scratch the surface. 

Not to mention work has been extremely busy and what with all the Brexit drama, my Twitter timeline (i.e. my home) has been so full of despair. I convinced myself on Friday that going to Pride wasn’t a good idea. I just wanted to retreat into the Sim world where there is no segregation. 

And then Saturday morning, I got dressed, and just burst into tears. I don’t know what happened. I can’t even use the excuse of a soppy film. Maybe my outfit was that bad?! Anyway, I trekked into Central London with the view of doing some blogging, and obviously ended up on Twitter, and then I saw this. 

He said yes @LondonLGBTPride @MetLGBTNetwork @LGBTpoliceuk #policewithpride #ByYourSide #AB #DI #CA #AC #LH pic.twitter.com/9jOmlY33PH

— MET LGBT Network (@MetLGBTNetwork) June 25, 2016

 So yes more tears. But this time of hope, and love, and glad that these men chose this day, this parade and moment to express their love. And my heart burst. And I realised more than ever do I need to be part of it. So I went out and cheered on the parade, and met up with friends, and partied in Soho along with what felt like a gazillion other people.

While my 2016 Pride wasn’t what I thought it would be, it was a step forward in reaffirming my hope in the world, and a future where Love is Love and there is joy in society. Where people can express themselves freely and not live in fear. And even though I didn’t really make things happen this year, just by being part of the crowd, waving that flag and cheering people on, I stood together with people. And above all else, that’s what matters.

Read More

My Ace Journey

This weekend an army of LGBT-ers and LGBT supporters have been at London for Pride. A weekend dedicated to being proud and being proud to support people who aren't heterosexual. And thus I decided that this weekend was the perfect weekend to share my story with you. Because, I am not a heterosexual. Instead, I belong to the A of LGBTQIA. Not Ally. But Asexual.

*takes deep breathe.*

That's one of the few times I've actually written that down. One of the few times I've also acknowledged my sexuality for what it is. And it is definitely the first time that I have been so open and public about it. 

So I just want to say that again.

I am asexual.

You may or may not know what that means and that is totally okay. It's one of those quiet sexualities. One of the ones that hides into the background, just like I used to do. The wikipedia definition says:

"Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to anyone, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity."

That seems pretty cut and dried, right? But actually, asexuality is a beast. It has many different forms, sub-forms, etc, etc. It would take more than just a blog post to explain all of that to you so instead, if you are interested in learning more about it, please take some time to look over this website: www.asexuality.org.

But as I mentioned in my title, this is about my journey. Mostly this is going to be a pretty short history because I don't want this post to go on too long, but I feel I should share my experience so that I might be able to help someone in some way.

As A Teenager

I'm going to be honest with you here because I had no idea that asexuality existed when I was a teenager. But I knew that I was different. All of my friends talked constantly about sex. It was on the TV, in films, in books. It was everywhere, basically, and I just never felt interested. I'd watch it and wonder what the fuss was all about. I'd joke about it and join in conversations about it but I never really understood this "primal desire" that people got. I heard people say things like "he is so hot, I'd get him in bed so fast", etc. And I'd be confused. Because I did find people attractive. From celebrities to other people I met but that "feeling" and "need" to sleep with them was absent. I was just able to observe and appreciate their beauty but I never had any sexual attraction.

So being a teenager was hard. I ended up playing a role. Pretending I was interested. I said things I didn't feel. Joked around and tried to act "clued up" when really I was floundering. I just couldn't fathom any of it. Not really. Not on a primal, natural level anyway.

Then I got my first serious boyfriend. He was definitely more experienced than myself but he was also still a virgin. I was seventeen and obviously very inexperienced. I had, until that point, only kissed someone else. And it was awkward, and uncomfortable and I didn't really feel like doing it again. With my then boyfriend, I tried to feel things. I tried to force the butterflies into my stomach and the sexual urges to arrive but mostly, I didn't feel much. I got some natural pleasure when we did some sexual acts but a lot of the time I felt odd and indifferent to it all. I much preferred to make him feel pleasure than actually feel pleasure myself - which he obviously had no issues with.

That relationship only lasted five months and we didn't get much further than foreplay. Mostly because we were taking it at my pace and I, naturally I now realise, never felt ready.

The University Years

University was hard. No longer was there just talk about sex during breaktimes and lunchtimes. Now there was people actually having sex. Night outs where the guys were eyeing up all the girls. Friends that would abandon me halfway through the night to go home with a guy they'd met. Roommates having sex that I could hear through walls. It was everywhere. It was also getting harder and harder for me to deny that something definitely wasn't right with me.

Because the one very obvious thing happening was that I wasn't having sex. I chalked it down to wanting a relationship with someone first. I was obviously still a virgin and I wanted to break that cherry with someone I cared about. This is what I told all of my friends. I just wasn't the kind of person who wanted to have one night stands and I was struggling to find someone to settle down with. This is also what I, myself, believed. I still didn't know about asexuality. So I was certain that when I found the right person everything would just feel right. That was what everyone was telling me too. 

The Blogging Years

In my last year of university I started my book blog. I started reading more, including lots of LGBT fiction. And then I met up with other book bloggers. Formed relationships and was suddenly learning that there was more than just Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Trans people. That there was a lot of other sexualities too. And then I heard about asexuality. And it was like a lightbulb went off in my brain. 

But I didn't identify as asexual straight away because I still wasn’t sure. I didn’t know enough about it and maybe I still just hadn’t found the right person yet. Maybe I would feel something if I was with someone I felt emotionally attracted too. So I pushed the thought away, kept living my life as I was and left it as it was. There were still parts of me that made me wonder if I was asexual at all – I did fantasize about other people and I did pleasure myself so maybe I was just getting it all wrong.

And then I watched a youtube video of someone talking about how they were asexual. A kind of asexual that fantasizes about other people having sex (i.e. in fanfics) but never wanting sex themselves. And that lightbulb in my head burnt a lot brighter so I started to research asexuality more and realised that this was it. This explained me so much. I do not want sex. Ever. And that is totally okay. I have also learnt that I am not the kind of person that could be in a poly relationship. If I am in a relationship, I need to know I’m the only person with that person.

So there we have it. My journey from teenager to now. Where I feel comfortable with my sexuality. Enough to share it with you and explain what it is like for me. I am still struggling to date but this is because I do not feel comfortable enough to explain that I do not want sex. I am worried that every guy I meet will never understand my not wanting sex and I’ll get attached and then they’ll leave me devastated and alone.

But I am certain that one day I will find someone who will be my best friend and my boyfriend. Someone who will understand my need to sleep in my own bed. Someone who will laugh with me and cuddle with me and kiss me and understand that it may never go much further than that. Because we live in a wonderful world and I have faith.

That or I’ll just have to become a crazy cat lady, eh? 

Read More