Lately,
I've been contemplating my identity in many senses.
I've changed many aspects of my Self over the past few years. I was around 12 or 13 when I confused asexuality, which has always existed within Me, even when I wasn't aware of it, for aromanticism. Mostly because, as I mentioned, my asexuality is an intrinsic part of me. I had no idea people actually meant sex when they said they were bisexual or pansexual. I thought they were talking about their romantic orientation, like me when I came out as "bisexual" at the age of 16. Further down the line, when I was 17/18, I confronted the fact that I didn't like men at all. I viewed them as play things when they expressed attraction to me. So, I sucked up the comphet and finally settled on a label. Lesbian. Now, as a 19 year old college student, I'm changing my identity again. And I'm not sure to feel about it.
In April of this year, I started listening to The Magnus Archives, a horror-drama podcast. It quickly sucked me into its web. I finished the series in no time, only a month or so, because I was so enamoured by this horror media that featured queer characters and really excellent horror. It was the perfect storm. Now that I've plugged the media that changed my life, let me get to the point. The Magnus Archives' main character is Jonathan Sims. An asexual man.
[Cue audience groan and moan as they realise where this is headed.]
Yes, this piece of horror media, more specifically a fanfic of this particular series helped me realise I was asexual. For the second time in my life, I identify as an asexual homoromantic person. And that's weird for me. Why? Because this changes everything. Not in a bad way, obviously. But this just means I'm more in tune with my body and my body's wicked ways. I don't really like that. My asexuality and what that means to me is largely dependent on the fact that I don't ever actively think of sex or any sexual acts, but when I basically have to confront sex and other things in order to find what I'm comfortable with, I grow restless and frustrated. I can't tell if I'll ever like sex because I've never had it. How do I know if I'll be repulsed by it? I might have some idea, but I don't know for certain, and that's what frustrates me the most.
I miss being a proper lesbian. And I know there's no clear cut way to be a lesbian, but there's the normal way: totally okay with sex and self-pleasure and eager to do stuff, and then there's me: confused. I can't say if it'll be never. I also can't say it'll be ever. It's all a big mess. And I have no idea who I'm supposed to be anymore.
When I was 13, it was much easier to be asexual because I was 13. I didn't want to think about sex, I was much too young for it. The most I ever did was watch porn to see if I got any reaction from it. I didn't. My body reacted, sure, but the body does that. My mind, however, wasn't thinking "Oh, that looks so great". It was more along the lines of "Can we stop now? Have we proven something to ourselves, or are we still grasping at straws?" It was a troubling time for many reasons, but I knew, after I tried self-pleasure and grew so uncomfortable at the action that I didn't attempt it again until college, that I was asexual. And then, for some reason, I forgot. Or, more accurately, I mistook my 13 year old asexuality for aromanticism at the time. So, it was a phase. A brief window into a Me that for some reason had her identities confused. The window opened back up, though, and I started reading through blogs on Tumblr for help. I took some quizzes. I researched asexuality in the 80s for a friend's writing project and grew even more open to the label. Then, a month later, it was decided. I'm asexual.
This whole thing feels like it should've been obvious. At 13, I knew. I wish I had known the entire time. I wish my memory wasn't so crap. I wish I had the guts to acknowledge it wasn't a phase. I do now, obviously, but still. I think my life would be a lot less confusing if I kept the asexual label in my pocket. Plus, there's the whole coming out thing. Now, I'm expected to come out to any potential partners because it's just fair, isn't it? It's a thing I'm lacking. They need to know that, because it's a thing they might enjoy or need or crave and I can't give that to them.
Anyway, this whole website entry was just an excuse for me to get a little more personal on the internet. Whoever's reading, if anyone's reading at all, will never meet me in my life, unless we're, by some miracle, Soulmates destined to meet and become friends which I highly doubt. I know identity is constantly changing. I know there's no set way of behaving in life. All I can really hope for is that I meet and fall in love with someone who I can trust, who accepts me as I am, who truly loves me.
Well, that's all I have to say about that. Joy to the World.