I feel so grateful and blessed for the people in my life and for all the understanding I receive. I was talking to a friend online who lives in another country, and we had not seen each other in a while. We came to the subject of relationships and he was asking me if I was open to a new relationship. I kind of went, well, it's complicated, and he asked about the details, so I started explaining how I felt and what I had discovered and gave him the link to Aven FAQ.
At one point he was trying to make sense of it and saying, wait, I'm confused, so you don't really want sex, but you like sensuality? I tried to ask him to say what exactly was confusing, but he just turned right around and said: I didn't get it, but emotionally I got it. There are just different ways of saying "I love you".
Even right now as I write this, I feel deeply touched by that kind of understanding and acceptance. That, to me, is an act of love. Just seeing me as I am, without trying to find any reasons for it.
One of the other things he said, when I was explaining how I've never really cared about sex, was - "You have always felt this way?" And I said "Yes". And realized how his question underscores for me that what I have always felt is not the same as what he has felt. That this must be new and odd to him. That he, in fact, must have those desires I find so hard to comprehend. Realizing that I had never imagined him as a sexual being. That I have the automatic assumption that all my friends are like me: even though I intellectually know they are sexual, instinctively I assume that they just form relationships the way people watch television, because it happens to be there and it's an imitation of what society does. But to think of my friends as genuinely desiring sex with one another, and having it be an important component of their relationships. Still wrapping my head around that one.
I imagine it must be the same in reverse: even though someone intellectually knows that you are not sexually driven, they will automatically make unconscious assumptions about what you are like, based on what they themselves are like and have always known. Just because they haven't yet deeply considered what it would be like to really LIVE from a different perspective. Can't blame that.
Showing posts with label asexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label asexuality. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
How does asexuality feel
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DO THIS SURVEY, IT'S INTELLIGENT
So I have several ideas what I want to blog about here, but I never get around to it. It's much easier for me to produce text if I'm responding to something or dialoguing, rather than creating content from scratch. So I'm plugging my answers to the survey here, to fill this blog. But don't read them until you've completed the survey yourself, okay?
1. How would you define/describe asexuality?
This is a tricky question. It assumes that there is an "asexuality" out there in the objective world in the same way a "table" is out there in the objective world, and can be grabbed and defined. But the word only means what anyone uses it to mean. So when I use the word, I don't want to imply that I am referring to something objective out there.
People use the word to mean various similar things, the one thing there seems to be some consensus on is that it is a "lack of sexual attraction". That of course brings up the question "what the hell is sexual attraction", and people who ostensibly don't experience any, are poorly qualified to describe it.
So while this definition may make sense to people who experience sexual attraction and know for sure what that feels like, I feel a sore lack of a definition that would describe the asexual experience "from the inside". We are forced to define ourselves by the absence of something we don't understand to begin with.
If I try to approach a definition, I would have to say something like "asexuality is a way of relating to the world that does not refer to sexual relationships or to oneself in a sexual context, as a means of seeing or defining oneself".
2. How would you define/describe sexual attraction?
Good one. I don't know. I've wondered that myself. I used to take it for granted that I knew what sexual attraction meant. It took me several decades to figure out that what other people mean when they say this, may actually not refer to anything in my experience. I used to think I was sexually attracted to pretty much everyone I felt friendly towards, because I wanted to touch them. That was embarrassing and I unconsciously believed there was something wrong with me. After some intense soul-searching and frank conversations, it turns out that people referring to sexual attraction mean a kind of magical pull towards someone that overcomes them, they have no power over it, and they begin to fantasize about how pleasurable it would be to engage in sexual activity with that person. I started to consider the strange possibility that maybe I don't know what that means.
3. How would you define/describe sexual desire?
It seems to be a clear wish that you want to have sex with someone. Which seems strange and arbitrary, from this perspective - how can it be so clear to you that you want to engage in that particular activity with someone? Having the need for a term for "sexual desire" seems like having a need for a term for "desire to make peanut butter jelly sandwiches with someone on Tuesday afternoons". Like, how do you know that's exactly what you want? I mean, it might be fun or interesting if you did that, but how often does it come up as such a clear expression?
4. How would you define/describe romantic attraction?
That's more an emotional thing. It's happened to me a few times, to various degrees of intensity. It's when someone is very very important to you and you want to be equally important to them, in its extreme stages wanting to be the most important people in the world to each other. You are especially elated to spend time with that person and love everything about them, and are in heaven if they show affection or attraction to you. It's a kind of extreme form of attachment. You think about them all the time and you are totally dependent on their attention. You put all your energy and hopes in life into this person. It's tiring and distracting and addictive. This person is your euphoria drug.
5. What are some factors that initially lead you to consider yourself as an asexual?
I was considering whether I was bisexual, because I was suffering an identity crisis I guess and a failing relationship, I was trying to be absolutely truthful to myself and had to admit that I had been attracted to people regardless of their gender. I was browsing some bisexual forums and came upon the word "asexual". I linked to Aven and felt relieved to discover that it was actually possible, valid and legitimate to not have the feelings I had always been telling myself I am supposed to have, and very healing to consider the possibility that maybe I'm not just horribly repressed.
6. How would you distinguish asexuality from a sexual dysfunction such as sexual desire disorder?
Simple. If you used to have sexual desire, and now you don't, but you want to have it - then you have a problem. If you never had sexual desire and don't miss it, then you're asexual. As for distress, yeah distress can be experienced, but the distress is not inherent to being asexual, it's caused by the social stigma and feeling different and unacceptable.
7. How might you have described your sexuality BEFORE you came across the term 'asexual'?
I guess I always checked the "heterosexual" box, though I always kind of felt like a fraud. Like I'm misrepresenting something I myself wasn't exactly sure of. It's like being asked about your religion and then given three choices, none of which you really identify with in your heart, but you don't realize that it's possible to not be part of any of these religions because everyone in your country belongs to a church, and it's unthinkable that you wouldn't too. Just before discovering asexuality, I started to seriously consider "admitting" that I was bisexual.
8. What questions would you use (without describing or using the term 'asexual') to identify an individual who might be asexual but has not yet come across the term?
What a great question! This touches directly on my need I expressed above to have a definition "from the inside". Because I didn't immediately identify with "asexual", it took me a little while to overcome the brainwashing that says "everyone is sexual, you should be sexual, those [asexual] people are just broken". I would ask questions such as:
- Was there ever a time in your life from which point on it was clear to you what sexual attraction means?
- If it was okay to never have sex, would you feel deprived to never have sex again?
- Is there anyone that you consider "hot", and how would you describe what that means?
- If you have a relationship to the word "hot", what happens in your body when you see someone that is "hot"?
- Has sex ever seemed like a chore, and have you ever wondered why people get so excited about it?
- Did you often feel out of place as a teenager when other kids hooked up with each other, and you didn't know how to or what it was all about?
- Did you ever invent crushes in order to not be different from your friends and have something exciting to talk about?
- Did you ever fail to relate to all the fuss about makeup and hair and scents and making yourself look attractive to the preferred gender?
- Have you felt confused about what sexual messages you might be sending, and have felt shy about being free with your body because you never knew how it was going to be interpreted?
- Have you thought that surely, people cannot think about sex every day, or been stunned to discover that most people actually masturbate regularly?
- Have you been embarrassed by sexual jokes because you couldn't relate or didn't get the reference and suddenly everyone was laughing hysterically and you felt left out?
- Have you had the opportunity to have sex with someone you really loved, and often felt like this is something you should want to do, though if you could have it your way, you'd be perfectly happy to just snuggle?
- Have you always felt like there was something strange with you in the area of sexuality, that you felt different, though you could never quite explain what was wrong?
- Have you felt pressured to talk about your sexuality and felt like a fraud for describing how you thought you should feel, not how you actually felt?
~~~~~~
I’d love to hear if people can come up with more questions to ask someone who might potentially identify with “asexual” but hasn’t yet heard that asexuality was possible!
DO THIS SURVEY, IT'S INTELLIGENT
So I have several ideas what I want to blog about here, but I never get around to it. It's much easier for me to produce text if I'm responding to something or dialoguing, rather than creating content from scratch. So I'm plugging my answers to the survey here, to fill this blog. But don't read them until you've completed the survey yourself, okay?
1. How would you define/describe asexuality?
This is a tricky question. It assumes that there is an "asexuality" out there in the objective world in the same way a "table" is out there in the objective world, and can be grabbed and defined. But the word only means what anyone uses it to mean. So when I use the word, I don't want to imply that I am referring to something objective out there.
People use the word to mean various similar things, the one thing there seems to be some consensus on is that it is a "lack of sexual attraction". That of course brings up the question "what the hell is sexual attraction", and people who ostensibly don't experience any, are poorly qualified to describe it.
So while this definition may make sense to people who experience sexual attraction and know for sure what that feels like, I feel a sore lack of a definition that would describe the asexual experience "from the inside". We are forced to define ourselves by the absence of something we don't understand to begin with.
If I try to approach a definition, I would have to say something like "asexuality is a way of relating to the world that does not refer to sexual relationships or to oneself in a sexual context, as a means of seeing or defining oneself".
2. How would you define/describe sexual attraction?
Good one. I don't know. I've wondered that myself. I used to take it for granted that I knew what sexual attraction meant. It took me several decades to figure out that what other people mean when they say this, may actually not refer to anything in my experience. I used to think I was sexually attracted to pretty much everyone I felt friendly towards, because I wanted to touch them. That was embarrassing and I unconsciously believed there was something wrong with me. After some intense soul-searching and frank conversations, it turns out that people referring to sexual attraction mean a kind of magical pull towards someone that overcomes them, they have no power over it, and they begin to fantasize about how pleasurable it would be to engage in sexual activity with that person. I started to consider the strange possibility that maybe I don't know what that means.
3. How would you define/describe sexual desire?
It seems to be a clear wish that you want to have sex with someone. Which seems strange and arbitrary, from this perspective - how can it be so clear to you that you want to engage in that particular activity with someone? Having the need for a term for "sexual desire" seems like having a need for a term for "desire to make peanut butter jelly sandwiches with someone on Tuesday afternoons". Like, how do you know that's exactly what you want? I mean, it might be fun or interesting if you did that, but how often does it come up as such a clear expression?
4. How would you define/describe romantic attraction?
That's more an emotional thing. It's happened to me a few times, to various degrees of intensity. It's when someone is very very important to you and you want to be equally important to them, in its extreme stages wanting to be the most important people in the world to each other. You are especially elated to spend time with that person and love everything about them, and are in heaven if they show affection or attraction to you. It's a kind of extreme form of attachment. You think about them all the time and you are totally dependent on their attention. You put all your energy and hopes in life into this person. It's tiring and distracting and addictive. This person is your euphoria drug.
5. What are some factors that initially lead you to consider yourself as an asexual?
I was considering whether I was bisexual, because I was suffering an identity crisis I guess and a failing relationship, I was trying to be absolutely truthful to myself and had to admit that I had been attracted to people regardless of their gender. I was browsing some bisexual forums and came upon the word "asexual". I linked to Aven and felt relieved to discover that it was actually possible, valid and legitimate to not have the feelings I had always been telling myself I am supposed to have, and very healing to consider the possibility that maybe I'm not just horribly repressed.
6. How would you distinguish asexuality from a sexual dysfunction such as sexual desire disorder?
Simple. If you used to have sexual desire, and now you don't, but you want to have it - then you have a problem. If you never had sexual desire and don't miss it, then you're asexual. As for distress, yeah distress can be experienced, but the distress is not inherent to being asexual, it's caused by the social stigma and feeling different and unacceptable.
7. How might you have described your sexuality BEFORE you came across the term 'asexual'?
I guess I always checked the "heterosexual" box, though I always kind of felt like a fraud. Like I'm misrepresenting something I myself wasn't exactly sure of. It's like being asked about your religion and then given three choices, none of which you really identify with in your heart, but you don't realize that it's possible to not be part of any of these religions because everyone in your country belongs to a church, and it's unthinkable that you wouldn't too. Just before discovering asexuality, I started to seriously consider "admitting" that I was bisexual.
8. What questions would you use (without describing or using the term 'asexual') to identify an individual who might be asexual but has not yet come across the term?
What a great question! This touches directly on my need I expressed above to have a definition "from the inside". Because I didn't immediately identify with "asexual", it took me a little while to overcome the brainwashing that says "everyone is sexual, you should be sexual, those [asexual] people are just broken". I would ask questions such as:
- Was there ever a time in your life from which point on it was clear to you what sexual attraction means?
- If it was okay to never have sex, would you feel deprived to never have sex again?
- Is there anyone that you consider "hot", and how would you describe what that means?
- If you have a relationship to the word "hot", what happens in your body when you see someone that is "hot"?
- Has sex ever seemed like a chore, and have you ever wondered why people get so excited about it?
- Did you often feel out of place as a teenager when other kids hooked up with each other, and you didn't know how to or what it was all about?
- Did you ever invent crushes in order to not be different from your friends and have something exciting to talk about?
- Did you ever fail to relate to all the fuss about makeup and hair and scents and making yourself look attractive to the preferred gender?
- Have you felt confused about what sexual messages you might be sending, and have felt shy about being free with your body because you never knew how it was going to be interpreted?
- Have you thought that surely, people cannot think about sex every day, or been stunned to discover that most people actually masturbate regularly?
- Have you been embarrassed by sexual jokes because you couldn't relate or didn't get the reference and suddenly everyone was laughing hysterically and you felt left out?
- Have you had the opportunity to have sex with someone you really loved, and often felt like this is something you should want to do, though if you could have it your way, you'd be perfectly happy to just snuggle?
- Have you always felt like there was something strange with you in the area of sexuality, that you felt different, though you could never quite explain what was wrong?
- Have you felt pressured to talk about your sexuality and felt like a fraud for describing how you thought you should feel, not how you actually felt?
~~~~~~
I’d love to hear if people can come up with more questions to ask someone who might potentially identify with “asexual” but hasn’t yet heard that asexuality was possible!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Cuddle world
I recently had the privilege of spending a week with a group of (non-asexual) people where the social norm was that cuddling was allowed. Where emotional and physical intimacy and openness were welcome. Where hugs were freely given and received. Where it was okay to gaze at each other and even spoon with each other and it did not mean "I want sex". It meant "I feel affectionate and want to share it with you, if you want it too." And because that was the understood norm, and well, also because the people involved in this were pretty awesome and having-their-shit-together specimens, there was a lot of freedom and very little neurosis around touching. I felt so at home. Yes, it is possible. I even came to a point where I had my fill of group cuddling and wanted to step away. I'd always suspected that I would be the cuddle-craziest in a situation like that, but turns out I wasn't. I discovered it was possible to feel "I've had enough". And I feel fulfilled and encouraged by the whole experience. That humans can be that loving with each other without the manipulation of sexual and predatory and possessive games. What joy.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Comfortable with sex
At this point, after scrutinizing physical reactions, sensations, thoughts and feelings that occur to me, for a number of months, I could assert with a great deal of integrity that I don’t mind sex. I don’t have any scruples about being touched “down there” when I know that it's within a context of a reasonably loving and trusting relationship. The fact that another person has different physical responses and experiences, is no longer scary, because I've left behind the fear and anxiety that there's something wrong with me if I don't experience the same. So for me now, sex feels neutral to pleasant, and I like the fact that the other person seems to be enjoying it so much.
It’s a particular way of touching, and I don’t draw an arbitrary barrier between sexual and non-sexual touching. That would only make sense to me if I had sexual feelings that I needed to differentiate from other feelings. But when I don’t operate within the context of sexuality, it’s all just touching. And there's nothing wrong with it and I don't have any reservations about it, I just am not as focused on this one type of expression as most people. And my body doesn't inherently tell me that touching one person in this particular way now signifies that we are exclusively pair-bonded, and that if I were to touch another person in that way, it would signify some kind of betrayal. That attitude just seems completely invented and random, and I wonder how it is that most people understand it and subscribe to it so implicitly and intuitively.
The thought that I have not allowed myself to have (because it’s socially unacceptable), is that actually, I probably wouldn’t mind being naked and having sex with people I feel pretty close and trusting with, if there was interest on their part. I haven’t tested this in practice, but I sense that if such a situation arose, I wouldn’t have a problem sharing that kind of touch with several different people in the same period. The only reason I would be holding back is because I know that having sex does create the expectation of pair-bonding, and I am reluctant to send out the wrong message, or rather to have my behavior be misinterpreted.
The way I can participate in this is, essentially I’m responding to the energy of a partner: if there is a sexual charge there, I can pick it up to a certain extent and have fun with it, play with our responses. The only thing is, I guess it’s not as much fun for them with me as it would be with someone more sexually-driven. Maybe kind of as much fun as a hearing person and a deaf person going to a dance together. They will move and have their own enjoyment, but they are not sharing your experience. I don't get “lust”, or maybe I do, for moments at a time, but then it eludes me again. So people may in the end conclude that sexual activity is not something they particularly want with me anyway. And that settles that!
It’s a particular way of touching, and I don’t draw an arbitrary barrier between sexual and non-sexual touching. That would only make sense to me if I had sexual feelings that I needed to differentiate from other feelings. But when I don’t operate within the context of sexuality, it’s all just touching. And there's nothing wrong with it and I don't have any reservations about it, I just am not as focused on this one type of expression as most people. And my body doesn't inherently tell me that touching one person in this particular way now signifies that we are exclusively pair-bonded, and that if I were to touch another person in that way, it would signify some kind of betrayal. That attitude just seems completely invented and random, and I wonder how it is that most people understand it and subscribe to it so implicitly and intuitively.
The thought that I have not allowed myself to have (because it’s socially unacceptable), is that actually, I probably wouldn’t mind being naked and having sex with people I feel pretty close and trusting with, if there was interest on their part. I haven’t tested this in practice, but I sense that if such a situation arose, I wouldn’t have a problem sharing that kind of touch with several different people in the same period. The only reason I would be holding back is because I know that having sex does create the expectation of pair-bonding, and I am reluctant to send out the wrong message, or rather to have my behavior be misinterpreted.
The way I can participate in this is, essentially I’m responding to the energy of a partner: if there is a sexual charge there, I can pick it up to a certain extent and have fun with it, play with our responses. The only thing is, I guess it’s not as much fun for them with me as it would be with someone more sexually-driven. Maybe kind of as much fun as a hearing person and a deaf person going to a dance together. They will move and have their own enjoyment, but they are not sharing your experience. I don't get “lust”, or maybe I do, for moments at a time, but then it eludes me again. So people may in the end conclude that sexual activity is not something they particularly want with me anyway. And that settles that!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Relationship 2.0
This is going to be about undesired sexual attention. In AVEN forums, I often see people complaining and freaking out about those sexuals who won’t leave them alone and just don’t get it. And what I hear in their frustration is asexuals wanting respect and wanting to be believed and acknowledged and seen for who they are, because there is (not surprisingly) probably still some insecurity and fear about asserting themselves as different, and the hope is that being believed and respected by other people would bring these asexuals the peace of mind and comfort in their own skin, that they need so much.
Fact is, if by a fluke of fate you find yourself asexual, it means you just set yourself up for MORE exploration of “relationship” rather than less. That’s right, you can’t sustainably use the “asexual” label as a way to avoid having to deal with people because you just can’t handle them. Because your label is going to be continually challenged and disbelieved and suspected. And unless you’re comfortable hiding out in your room forever playing video games and chatting online only with other people who are safe because they are “asexual”, you will have to continually question and carefully observe what is going on in the relationships that you enter into. One of the things that I liked most about AVEN when I first found it, is that you were being invited to not assume this as a monolithic identity, but rather to use the word to describe yourself for as long as it makes sense to.
So as with everything else, in order to assert yourself, it's best to come from a place where you are really, really comfortable with yourself. If you go out into the world saying to people "I've determined that I'm asexual and I never ever want to have sex ever, how gross" while you still have doubts and insecurities inside of yourself, and so you’re really invested in people believing your statement, because you think that will help you believe yourself – well you’re just not going to be convincing. People can always feel that you’re not sure of yourself, sometimes subconsciously, and they will respond to your insecurity with doubt and dismissal, sometimes also subconsciously (even if they verbally reassure you). So how do you become sure of yourself?
It’s paradoxical, but the more flexible you are and the more you allow for your identity to not be fixed, the more stable and unshakable you are. It’s scary because we are used to having firm and solid definitions of everything. And society’s rules are not made to accommodate a lot of “I don't know". Nevertheless. The ultimate tool you always have at your disposal is telling your own complete truth, and sometimes that truth is “I don’t know”, or “I don't relate to that question" or "I'm not sure what that word means" or "I don't remember ever feeling that way" or “I have mixed feelings about that”. Just be as truthful as you can – and speak from your own authority, from what you really, really know to be true for yourself. But the more you try to present yourself to people using external labels of identity, the easier it is for them to dispute that.
It’s like in literature, you have passive and active characterization. I can write a novel and say “John is outgoing, friendly and cooperative”, or I can narrate a story in which John does and says certain things that demonstrate his character. Which are you more likely to believe, the conclusions that I’ve made for you about John, or the conclusions that you’ve drawn yourself based on what you have seen about John?
I haven’t actually said to anyone “I’m asexual”. In some relationships, I’ve mentioned that asexuality is an orientation that I relate to and understand the most. Other times, that hasn’t even been necessary, I’ve just described how I feel about certain aspects of sexuality. And what I get back from friends is a lot of understanding and support and acceptance. I’m making sense to them, even if their experience is different.
Does everyone who is trying to romance you necessarily have to know that you identify as asexual? I don’t think so. There’s someone who is really, really in love with me right now, and since I’m living the crazy experiment of not knowing and not defining my relationships inside the friendship/romance dichotomy, so I’m living from a place where nothing HAS TO happen, I’m allowing myself to simply enjoy his company and enjoy as much physical affection from him as I like without having it have to mean anything. At the same time I’m also being super attentive to myself and clearly knowing what I do and don’t want, and communicating my boundaries. I’m allowing this powerful intense energy to flow towards me from him, while knowing where I stand, and allowing any response that arises in me, to happen. Even allowing for the possibility that if at any point the unlikely impulse comes to have sex with him, I will. Everything is so much easier when I no longer tell myself that I have to resist or fight anything, or on the other hand that I have to follow and fall in and reciprocate. Just doing what comes naturally. I’ve let go of a lot of guilt there. As long as I was telling myself that I should be a certain way, there was plenty of discomfort. Now I allow myself to feel anything that is felt in the moment, and it’s great to have that validation in real time from within my own body that no, I don’t actually want that.
You are strongest when you don’t have to convince anyone. When they tell you how much they want to be with you, can you, instead of wincing and trying to get away, just look them straight in the eye, feel what’s going on for you right then and there, and express it? I would personally find that much more believable than hearing “I’m asexual, leave me alone”. I think it’s a great challenge for asexuals to learn to absorb and deal with and become comfortable with direct sexual energy – and I see it as an inevitable part of maturation, to be willing to face that at some point. This guy who’s in love with me, I simply told him that I was very open to people, and that that didn’t mean I wanted a relationship - but that I knew this could be confusing. And he WAS confused, but he said that I was wonderfully strange. :) Well, I enjoy being strange. And if at any point he wants to ask more, I can explain more. But I don’t feel like I HAVE TO make him understand what I’m all about. And that’s freedom.
Fact is, if by a fluke of fate you find yourself asexual, it means you just set yourself up for MORE exploration of “relationship” rather than less. That’s right, you can’t sustainably use the “asexual” label as a way to avoid having to deal with people because you just can’t handle them. Because your label is going to be continually challenged and disbelieved and suspected. And unless you’re comfortable hiding out in your room forever playing video games and chatting online only with other people who are safe because they are “asexual”, you will have to continually question and carefully observe what is going on in the relationships that you enter into. One of the things that I liked most about AVEN when I first found it, is that you were being invited to not assume this as a monolithic identity, but rather to use the word to describe yourself for as long as it makes sense to.
So as with everything else, in order to assert yourself, it's best to come from a place where you are really, really comfortable with yourself. If you go out into the world saying to people "I've determined that I'm asexual and I never ever want to have sex ever, how gross" while you still have doubts and insecurities inside of yourself, and so you’re really invested in people believing your statement, because you think that will help you believe yourself – well you’re just not going to be convincing. People can always feel that you’re not sure of yourself, sometimes subconsciously, and they will respond to your insecurity with doubt and dismissal, sometimes also subconsciously (even if they verbally reassure you). So how do you become sure of yourself?
It’s paradoxical, but the more flexible you are and the more you allow for your identity to not be fixed, the more stable and unshakable you are. It’s scary because we are used to having firm and solid definitions of everything. And society’s rules are not made to accommodate a lot of “I don't know". Nevertheless. The ultimate tool you always have at your disposal is telling your own complete truth, and sometimes that truth is “I don’t know”, or “I don't relate to that question" or "I'm not sure what that word means" or "I don't remember ever feeling that way" or “I have mixed feelings about that”. Just be as truthful as you can – and speak from your own authority, from what you really, really know to be true for yourself. But the more you try to present yourself to people using external labels of identity, the easier it is for them to dispute that.
It’s like in literature, you have passive and active characterization. I can write a novel and say “John is outgoing, friendly and cooperative”, or I can narrate a story in which John does and says certain things that demonstrate his character. Which are you more likely to believe, the conclusions that I’ve made for you about John, or the conclusions that you’ve drawn yourself based on what you have seen about John?
I haven’t actually said to anyone “I’m asexual”. In some relationships, I’ve mentioned that asexuality is an orientation that I relate to and understand the most. Other times, that hasn’t even been necessary, I’ve just described how I feel about certain aspects of sexuality. And what I get back from friends is a lot of understanding and support and acceptance. I’m making sense to them, even if their experience is different.
Does everyone who is trying to romance you necessarily have to know that you identify as asexual? I don’t think so. There’s someone who is really, really in love with me right now, and since I’m living the crazy experiment of not knowing and not defining my relationships inside the friendship/romance dichotomy, so I’m living from a place where nothing HAS TO happen, I’m allowing myself to simply enjoy his company and enjoy as much physical affection from him as I like without having it have to mean anything. At the same time I’m also being super attentive to myself and clearly knowing what I do and don’t want, and communicating my boundaries. I’m allowing this powerful intense energy to flow towards me from him, while knowing where I stand, and allowing any response that arises in me, to happen. Even allowing for the possibility that if at any point the unlikely impulse comes to have sex with him, I will. Everything is so much easier when I no longer tell myself that I have to resist or fight anything, or on the other hand that I have to follow and fall in and reciprocate. Just doing what comes naturally. I’ve let go of a lot of guilt there. As long as I was telling myself that I should be a certain way, there was plenty of discomfort. Now I allow myself to feel anything that is felt in the moment, and it’s great to have that validation in real time from within my own body that no, I don’t actually want that.
You are strongest when you don’t have to convince anyone. When they tell you how much they want to be with you, can you, instead of wincing and trying to get away, just look them straight in the eye, feel what’s going on for you right then and there, and express it? I would personally find that much more believable than hearing “I’m asexual, leave me alone”. I think it’s a great challenge for asexuals to learn to absorb and deal with and become comfortable with direct sexual energy – and I see it as an inevitable part of maturation, to be willing to face that at some point. This guy who’s in love with me, I simply told him that I was very open to people, and that that didn’t mean I wanted a relationship - but that I knew this could be confusing. And he WAS confused, but he said that I was wonderfully strange. :) Well, I enjoy being strange. And if at any point he wants to ask more, I can explain more. But I don’t feel like I HAVE TO make him understand what I’m all about. And that’s freedom.
Monday, February 23, 2009
What would you ask an asexual?
I took this asexuality survey for the National University of Ireland. Their idea is to explore the experience of asexuality and sense of identity as an asexual, and I'm really glad that they provide space for essay-type answers rather than pigeonholing you into multiple choice. And happy that someone took this on, and would really like to see the results!
"How would you define your gender identity" is a relevant question, since I would expect many respondents not to have a strong gender sense. Some other questions seem largely irrelevant, like how does ethnicity or age or religion affect your asexuality. Age probably only has relevance in that people take you more seriously the older you are, but that goes for everything and not just asexuality. I'm curious about religion, as a disproportionate number of AVENites seem to be non-religious/atheist/agnostic. Pretzelboy is also making some guesses as to why so many don't have a religious affiliation. I guess the assumption many people on the outside make, is that being religious and believing you should not have sex much, makes people asexual... But in reality it seems rather the other way around. My completely unscientific 2 cents would be that a lot of religion is about instructions how to deal with sexual desires and channel them towards some spiritual ideal, doing right as opposed to wrong; and as asexuals are already living the experience of being outside of society's norm and not even having to control their sexual appetites, not fitting in and thus not having a strictly black-and-white view of the world, that kind of religion simply does not seem relevant, and has little appeal for them.
Some good questions in this survey were around relating to others, disclosing one's sexuality and how that has been accepted. How does asexuality fit into your self-concept. Other questions were decidedly too generic, like listing the good points and bad points of being asexual. And I would like to see more specific, juicier questions being researched, such as:
- When did you first realize you were asexual? Have you ever felt sexual? How did you discover this identity, and how did it feel? What did you identify as before?
- Do you ever fall in love? If you are attracted to people, do you have a gender preference?
- How do you feel about touching and sensuality? Hugging, kissing? How do you express affection and how do you view intimacy?
- What kind of close relationships would you ideally like to have in your life?
- Have you been in sexual relationships and how do you negotiate that? If you have had sex without actual desire for it, why did you do it?
- Do you want to have a family, children?
- Do you have a sex drive? Do you masturbate and how do you view masturbation? How about orgasm?
- Do you have a spirituality/religion and which? Does it bear any relation to your asexuality? How much does your (lack of) spirituality/religion define you?
- How was sex viewed in your family of origin, and do you think that has had any effect on your asexuality?
- When did you first realize that someone was sexually attracted to you, and how did you know? Are there particular areas of daily life that are confusing to you and that you would like more understanding around by people in general?
You know, lots of questions researchers could ask. Just imagine that your best friend comes out to you as asexual, what would you be curious about?
---
Update: Here Pretzelboy suggests some good Topics for future research in a more methodical way than me.
"How would you define your gender identity" is a relevant question, since I would expect many respondents not to have a strong gender sense. Some other questions seem largely irrelevant, like how does ethnicity or age or religion affect your asexuality. Age probably only has relevance in that people take you more seriously the older you are, but that goes for everything and not just asexuality. I'm curious about religion, as a disproportionate number of AVENites seem to be non-religious/atheist/agnostic. Pretzelboy is also making some guesses as to why so many don't have a religious affiliation. I guess the assumption many people on the outside make, is that being religious and believing you should not have sex much, makes people asexual... But in reality it seems rather the other way around. My completely unscientific 2 cents would be that a lot of religion is about instructions how to deal with sexual desires and channel them towards some spiritual ideal, doing right as opposed to wrong; and as asexuals are already living the experience of being outside of society's norm and not even having to control their sexual appetites, not fitting in and thus not having a strictly black-and-white view of the world, that kind of religion simply does not seem relevant, and has little appeal for them.
Some good questions in this survey were around relating to others, disclosing one's sexuality and how that has been accepted. How does asexuality fit into your self-concept. Other questions were decidedly too generic, like listing the good points and bad points of being asexual. And I would like to see more specific, juicier questions being researched, such as:
- When did you first realize you were asexual? Have you ever felt sexual? How did you discover this identity, and how did it feel? What did you identify as before?
- Do you ever fall in love? If you are attracted to people, do you have a gender preference?
- How do you feel about touching and sensuality? Hugging, kissing? How do you express affection and how do you view intimacy?
- What kind of close relationships would you ideally like to have in your life?
- Have you been in sexual relationships and how do you negotiate that? If you have had sex without actual desire for it, why did you do it?
- Do you want to have a family, children?
- Do you have a sex drive? Do you masturbate and how do you view masturbation? How about orgasm?
- Do you have a spirituality/religion and which? Does it bear any relation to your asexuality? How much does your (lack of) spirituality/religion define you?
- How was sex viewed in your family of origin, and do you think that has had any effect on your asexuality?
- When did you first realize that someone was sexually attracted to you, and how did you know? Are there particular areas of daily life that are confusing to you and that you would like more understanding around by people in general?
You know, lots of questions researchers could ask. Just imagine that your best friend comes out to you as asexual, what would you be curious about?
---
Update: Here Pretzelboy suggests some good Topics for future research in a more methodical way than me.
Recognize an asexual
I stumbled on these posts on AVEN here and here, talking about wearing a black ring on your right middle finger as a sign that you are asexual.
I like the idea of increasing visibility, especially among each other. I went and bought myself a nice-looking but inexpensive black band off of Ebay. And although I don't expect to be seeing large numbers of people sporting black ase-rings just yet, I want to support this as I'm hoping that the symbol will penetrate public awareness over the coming years and make it a little bit easier to exist as a legitimate minority. So this post is kind of an encouragement to spread awareness for all those who wish to pick it up. Wear a black ring on your right middle finger when you want to claim an asexual identity. Tell everyone who is interested in your ring, and let them know that this subculture exists. I'd complement this with the "ace of hearts" symbol where appropriate.
Hopeful vision of the future: guy tries to romance girl who seems to be playing hard to get. Guy checks her left ring finger. Nothing. Then guy checks her right middle finger. Guy sees black ring. Guy knows and understands that this means she is not interested in sex with him, thank you very much, and does not take it personally. People do not pressure you with questions and expectations about getting together with someone, or getting married, are not continuously suspicious of your permanently single status. The hope is that maybe one day asexuality would become at least as commonplace and accepted as being gay is today.
I like the idea of increasing visibility, especially among each other. I went and bought myself a nice-looking but inexpensive black band off of Ebay. And although I don't expect to be seeing large numbers of people sporting black ase-rings just yet, I want to support this as I'm hoping that the symbol will penetrate public awareness over the coming years and make it a little bit easier to exist as a legitimate minority. So this post is kind of an encouragement to spread awareness for all those who wish to pick it up. Wear a black ring on your right middle finger when you want to claim an asexual identity. Tell everyone who is interested in your ring, and let them know that this subculture exists. I'd complement this with the "ace of hearts" symbol where appropriate.
Hopeful vision of the future: guy tries to romance girl who seems to be playing hard to get. Guy checks her left ring finger. Nothing. Then guy checks her right middle finger. Guy sees black ring. Guy knows and understands that this means she is not interested in sex with him, thank you very much, and does not take it personally. People do not pressure you with questions and expectations about getting together with someone, or getting married, are not continuously suspicious of your permanently single status. The hope is that maybe one day asexuality would become at least as commonplace and accepted as being gay is today.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Recognizing lack of sexual attraction
I think people should talk more about sex. No, let me rephrase that to be more accurate. I’m disappointed that in my past, I did not initiate talking about sex more. So many assumptions would have revealed themselves so much sooner. Or would they? Maybe I just wasn’t ready for it.
When I first encountered the term ‘asexual’ and the asexual community online, I was averse to the idea of considering myself asexual. I was too much in the mindset that there was something wrong with "these people", that they were just immature; especially after reading some posts by teenagers who seemed to simply fear the powerful unknown sexual experience, fear growing up. At the time I was seriously considering if I should be calling myself bisexual. It was only months later that I came to AVEN again, having faced more of myself and dropped more preconceptions. And I could read it with new eyes, and laugh with the joy of recognizing my own experiences described, with the joy of not being alone.
One of the first things I noticed was the fact that asexuality was being defined by the absence of something that an asexual person would by definition not understand to begin with. “Asexual is a person who does not experience sexual attraction.” That statement works for the sexual world, it means something to “normal” people. How about an internal definition? How does an asexual person experience themselves from within, without referencing something that is not part of their world in the first place? An asexual person who hears the official definition might not recognize themselves in it.
See, I had never even considered that I did not experience sexual attraction. Because it did not occur to me that I was any different from everybody around me who talked and acted as if we were all experiencing this same thing. I figured I must have it; I have attraction to people, it must be sexual. And I always felt awkward and insecure, because in reality I didn’t understand it, I didn’t get it. It was almost completely mystical to me. Sure, I was always able to recognize very obvious and overt sexual come-ons, but most my interactions were more subtle, and there was always a nagging question at the back of my mind, in all relationships, whether something sexual was happening or not. Always wondering – is this it? I like this person - does that mean that I want to date them? What was the magic formula by which people recognized this in each other? I kind of assumed that I must be sexually attracted to some degree to pretty much everyone I liked, and to all my friends. That any look, touch, gesture, expression, word indicating closeness, could be seen as leading someone on, could be somebody’s subtle hint or meaning something. I preferred to block this out of my awareness most of the time, because it was too much to handle. But overall, it affected me, I found myself alternating between being very open and very reserved – never knowing how friendly is too friendly. Mostly being more reserved than I would have wanted to be - just to be on the safe side.
Last year I had some pretty direct and graphic conversations about what “sexual attraction” actually meant to different people, and how they experienced it. And I’m told that it is CLEAR to them, that it hits them suddenly and unmistakably, that they have specific sexual fantasies about the person they are attracted to, that it’s this amazing and magical pull, and so on. I feel like I’m off the hook! When I allowed for the option that this sexual attraction business is just not something that I experience or should necessarily experience, it did wonders for my self-confidence and how I show up around people. I’ve felt so free since then, like a huge weight was lifted off my back, the weight of having to be so careful because you don't know how things work and human relations never quite make sense to you. I feel much more at ease now to look at people, touch them, be open with them - and I know that however they want to interpret it, is their own business. Because I know where I'm coming from, and I keep checking with myself. And since I've recognized my asexuality, I have experienced loads of attraction that I allow to come out as it happens, because it's just what it is, but having sex with someone or wanting to make them my significant other does not occur to me, and that’s perfectly acceptable. I can simply be who I am. There is no expectation. And if this amazing and magical pull does happen some day, I want to be able to allow it just the same.
So how would asexuality be described from the inside, so that an asexual person who does not know of asexuality, might recognize it when they read about it? So much of my self-description has been by negation lately; what can I say that I do want?
-----
Update: Found this thread discussing Defining asexuality from an asexual perspective. Hope to get back to this!
When I first encountered the term ‘asexual’ and the asexual community online, I was averse to the idea of considering myself asexual. I was too much in the mindset that there was something wrong with "these people", that they were just immature; especially after reading some posts by teenagers who seemed to simply fear the powerful unknown sexual experience, fear growing up. At the time I was seriously considering if I should be calling myself bisexual. It was only months later that I came to AVEN again, having faced more of myself and dropped more preconceptions. And I could read it with new eyes, and laugh with the joy of recognizing my own experiences described, with the joy of not being alone.
One of the first things I noticed was the fact that asexuality was being defined by the absence of something that an asexual person would by definition not understand to begin with. “Asexual is a person who does not experience sexual attraction.” That statement works for the sexual world, it means something to “normal” people. How about an internal definition? How does an asexual person experience themselves from within, without referencing something that is not part of their world in the first place? An asexual person who hears the official definition might not recognize themselves in it.
See, I had never even considered that I did not experience sexual attraction. Because it did not occur to me that I was any different from everybody around me who talked and acted as if we were all experiencing this same thing. I figured I must have it; I have attraction to people, it must be sexual. And I always felt awkward and insecure, because in reality I didn’t understand it, I didn’t get it. It was almost completely mystical to me. Sure, I was always able to recognize very obvious and overt sexual come-ons, but most my interactions were more subtle, and there was always a nagging question at the back of my mind, in all relationships, whether something sexual was happening or not. Always wondering – is this it? I like this person - does that mean that I want to date them? What was the magic formula by which people recognized this in each other? I kind of assumed that I must be sexually attracted to some degree to pretty much everyone I liked, and to all my friends. That any look, touch, gesture, expression, word indicating closeness, could be seen as leading someone on, could be somebody’s subtle hint or meaning something. I preferred to block this out of my awareness most of the time, because it was too much to handle. But overall, it affected me, I found myself alternating between being very open and very reserved – never knowing how friendly is too friendly. Mostly being more reserved than I would have wanted to be - just to be on the safe side.
Last year I had some pretty direct and graphic conversations about what “sexual attraction” actually meant to different people, and how they experienced it. And I’m told that it is CLEAR to them, that it hits them suddenly and unmistakably, that they have specific sexual fantasies about the person they are attracted to, that it’s this amazing and magical pull, and so on. I feel like I’m off the hook! When I allowed for the option that this sexual attraction business is just not something that I experience or should necessarily experience, it did wonders for my self-confidence and how I show up around people. I’ve felt so free since then, like a huge weight was lifted off my back, the weight of having to be so careful because you don't know how things work and human relations never quite make sense to you. I feel much more at ease now to look at people, touch them, be open with them - and I know that however they want to interpret it, is their own business. Because I know where I'm coming from, and I keep checking with myself. And since I've recognized my asexuality, I have experienced loads of attraction that I allow to come out as it happens, because it's just what it is, but having sex with someone or wanting to make them my significant other does not occur to me, and that’s perfectly acceptable. I can simply be who I am. There is no expectation. And if this amazing and magical pull does happen some day, I want to be able to allow it just the same.
So how would asexuality be described from the inside, so that an asexual person who does not know of asexuality, might recognize it when they read about it? So much of my self-description has been by negation lately; what can I say that I do want?
-----
Update: Found this thread discussing Defining asexuality from an asexual perspective. Hope to get back to this!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Attracted
So, our language around attraction and love is horrendously messed up, as many people who are calling themselves "asexual" would attest to. It seems to conflate all kinds of things that seem non-related to me, into one big soup. When in ordinary language I say that I'm attracted to someone of the opposite sex, and the average Joe hears that, there will be at least an assumption of being sexually attracted, and will bring a glint to his eye and a smirk to the corner of his mouth. If I state I am attracted to someone of the same sex, that automatic assumption will be less likely but still entertained as reasonable doubt which might slightly confuse that same Joe. "Attraction" is burdened with so many connotations and overtones that I do not intend. Yes, I am attracted! I'm attracted all over the place!
I used to think I was sexually attracted to all my friends, and then some people I liked, because I wanted to be physically close to them. That was a scary and embarrassing thought, I felt a bit freaky for having these urges for practically everybody. I preferred not to think about it. Until it recently occurred to me that maybe what most people are calling "sexual attraction" is not exactly the same thing as I'm experiencing. I'm imagining "wanting" somebody, wanting their body... and it just seems... disrespectful. Embarrassing. Like, not really true.
I develop strong feelings and intense attraction to some people. Sometimes more than one person at the same time. I feel urges to touch and be affectionate with people I love. In the past, I have often wondered about the intensity of my attraction, and because of this conflation concluded that it must be sexual. And I have always fantasized about people - but somehow my mind won't stay on the subject of sex. I can go on for a long time in pleasant imagination about how we are spending time together, what we are talking about, how we are looking at each other, touching each other lovingly, holding and cuddling, giving massages, even kissing if I feel very passionate. I've tried to imagine explicit sexual acts - and it feels more like a mental exercise, because I don't relate to the enjoyment that sex means for most people, so my mind strays or goes back to hugging and talking. And consistently, this fantasy happens when I'm away from a loved person - when I'm actually with them, when I can talk to them and touch them, I mostly feel fulfilled already. Doubts whether this is sexual don't cross my mind. I even don't need to touch them as much as in my imagination. And after spending some time with them, I feel kind of silly for having fantasized about such an intense physical relationship. It's like, I want closeness and intimacy with them, and symbolically, that's associated with sexual-related themes. But in reality, it doesn't have to be.
As for language that describes my experience around people: I don't know what "sexual attraction" is really, so I wouldn't use it about myself. Physical attraction is when I want to touch someone in a loving way or as a way to connect with them and communicate. This normally happens for me parallel to the development of emotional attraction, of getting to know a person and coming to care about them. Actually it doesn't work that well to break down the different kinds of attraction, because I do see it as all connected and interdependent, just one continuum. Just that so far I've never gotten to the part with anyone where I feel any strong urge to have sex. Even when I've thought what I wanted was to have sex, "heavy" cuddling has left me satisfied. And I want to challenge the assumption that sexual desire is the necessary endpoint and culmination of intense attraction. That I feel love and attraction any less strongly just because sex is not on my agenda. I doubt that very much.
So what is it that I'm attracted to in a person? I honestly don't think it has much to do with physical appearance: most people's appearance is pleasing to me, and they invariably become more physically attractive the more personally I get to know them. People I love are all beautiful people! I do have some preferences about faces and bodies that are more appealing, but that just doesn't mean very much all by itself. When I evaluate a person's appearance for attraction, it's rather in terms of how are they taking care of their body, what their face and body language tell me about their feelings, and what their external markers of identity display about their personality.
I think what I'm actually attracted to is the potential I sense for resonance, connection and intimacy. Seeing how open and transparent someone is with me, is very exciting and powerfully attractive. It can sweep me away: the feeling that I could be utterly real with another human being has me always coming back for more. That's also why I can be attracted to several people: because obviously more than one person can represent that in my life. I'd love to be able to freely explore physical intimacy as an expression of love and closeness in a context that doesn't spill over into sexuality.
I used to think I was sexually attracted to all my friends, and then some people I liked, because I wanted to be physically close to them. That was a scary and embarrassing thought, I felt a bit freaky for having these urges for practically everybody. I preferred not to think about it. Until it recently occurred to me that maybe what most people are calling "sexual attraction" is not exactly the same thing as I'm experiencing. I'm imagining "wanting" somebody, wanting their body... and it just seems... disrespectful. Embarrassing. Like, not really true.
I develop strong feelings and intense attraction to some people. Sometimes more than one person at the same time. I feel urges to touch and be affectionate with people I love. In the past, I have often wondered about the intensity of my attraction, and because of this conflation concluded that it must be sexual. And I have always fantasized about people - but somehow my mind won't stay on the subject of sex. I can go on for a long time in pleasant imagination about how we are spending time together, what we are talking about, how we are looking at each other, touching each other lovingly, holding and cuddling, giving massages, even kissing if I feel very passionate. I've tried to imagine explicit sexual acts - and it feels more like a mental exercise, because I don't relate to the enjoyment that sex means for most people, so my mind strays or goes back to hugging and talking. And consistently, this fantasy happens when I'm away from a loved person - when I'm actually with them, when I can talk to them and touch them, I mostly feel fulfilled already. Doubts whether this is sexual don't cross my mind. I even don't need to touch them as much as in my imagination. And after spending some time with them, I feel kind of silly for having fantasized about such an intense physical relationship. It's like, I want closeness and intimacy with them, and symbolically, that's associated with sexual-related themes. But in reality, it doesn't have to be.
As for language that describes my experience around people: I don't know what "sexual attraction" is really, so I wouldn't use it about myself. Physical attraction is when I want to touch someone in a loving way or as a way to connect with them and communicate. This normally happens for me parallel to the development of emotional attraction, of getting to know a person and coming to care about them. Actually it doesn't work that well to break down the different kinds of attraction, because I do see it as all connected and interdependent, just one continuum. Just that so far I've never gotten to the part with anyone where I feel any strong urge to have sex. Even when I've thought what I wanted was to have sex, "heavy" cuddling has left me satisfied. And I want to challenge the assumption that sexual desire is the necessary endpoint and culmination of intense attraction. That I feel love and attraction any less strongly just because sex is not on my agenda. I doubt that very much.
So what is it that I'm attracted to in a person? I honestly don't think it has much to do with physical appearance: most people's appearance is pleasing to me, and they invariably become more physically attractive the more personally I get to know them. People I love are all beautiful people! I do have some preferences about faces and bodies that are more appealing, but that just doesn't mean very much all by itself. When I evaluate a person's appearance for attraction, it's rather in terms of how are they taking care of their body, what their face and body language tell me about their feelings, and what their external markers of identity display about their personality.
I think what I'm actually attracted to is the potential I sense for resonance, connection and intimacy. Seeing how open and transparent someone is with me, is very exciting and powerfully attractive. It can sweep me away: the feeling that I could be utterly real with another human being has me always coming back for more. That's also why I can be attracted to several people: because obviously more than one person can represent that in my life. I'd love to be able to freely explore physical intimacy as an expression of love and closeness in a context that doesn't spill over into sexuality.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Think of me as a cat
I like cats. They are elegant, graceful, clean, intentional, independent, and... OMG sexy. What does "sexy" mean coming from an asexual anyway - should I even be allowed to use that word?! Yes, I reserve the right to use it and redefine it as I see fit to describe my experience. And no, it doesn't mean I'm into animals [rolls eyes]. The sexiness of cats is in their confident demeanor, their sleek moves, their self-awareness, their soft hair... all of which makes me want to touch and connect with these beings. I too have felt "sexy" sometimes, and to me, that doesn't imply I was out to find someone to mate with. When I feel sexy, I feel confident and comfortable in my body, I feel physically beautiful, fit, strong, and attractive. I may put on clothes that emphasise my figure. I may want to be seen, touched and appreciated. And yet! It does NOT mean I want to be groped or laid. Wrap your head around that...
When it comes to physical affection and sensuality, the best analogy I can come up with is to think of me as a cat. A cat will choose people she wants to snuggle with, and will freely touch and rub against any part of their body, as long as she likes and trusts the person. Humans generally have no reservations petting other people's cats, and there is no expectation either by the cat or by the person that a committed monogamous relationship or sex will ensue. After a mutually enjoyable petting session, one or the other simply directs their attention to something else. This is how I would be - if I did not have too many socially imposed reservations in place! Think of how easy it is for puppies to huddle together in a pile and sleep... Or how naturally and freely small children touch and look at each other and are affectionate, without expectations and rules... That's what I miss! As we grow up, we are expected to narrow down our physical affection mostly to our sexual partner, and in limited doses, to a few friends. Friends don't usually walk down the street holding hands, are not allowed to touch all body parts, don't gaze into each other's eyes, don't sleep holding each other, don't lovingly stroke each other... Affectionate physical contact between friends has unspoken rules about limited duration and intensity - otherwise sexual interest is to be assumed. People crave loving touch, and so find functional reasons and excuses to "have to" touch each other for some apparent purpose other than just physical enjoyment and bonding. How sad!
Let's make a new world.
When it comes to physical affection and sensuality, the best analogy I can come up with is to think of me as a cat. A cat will choose people she wants to snuggle with, and will freely touch and rub against any part of their body, as long as she likes and trusts the person. Humans generally have no reservations petting other people's cats, and there is no expectation either by the cat or by the person that a committed monogamous relationship or sex will ensue. After a mutually enjoyable petting session, one or the other simply directs their attention to something else. This is how I would be - if I did not have too many socially imposed reservations in place! Think of how easy it is for puppies to huddle together in a pile and sleep... Or how naturally and freely small children touch and look at each other and are affectionate, without expectations and rules... That's what I miss! As we grow up, we are expected to narrow down our physical affection mostly to our sexual partner, and in limited doses, to a few friends. Friends don't usually walk down the street holding hands, are not allowed to touch all body parts, don't gaze into each other's eyes, don't sleep holding each other, don't lovingly stroke each other... Affectionate physical contact between friends has unspoken rules about limited duration and intensity - otherwise sexual interest is to be assumed. People crave loving touch, and so find functional reasons and excuses to "have to" touch each other for some apparent purpose other than just physical enjoyment and bonding. How sad!
Let's make a new world.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The closet
Why did I call this blog "thereisnocloset"? I spent a lot of my life with this nagging doubt in the back of my mind that said: I have some issues with sex, there is something wrong with me, I'm a little strange, and one day I'm going to have to confront it. I used to think that it must be just because I was shy as a teenager that I could not get the hang of the world of dating, and that once I get over that, my sexual personality should become unleashed. I then became a reasonably adjusted and moderately self-aware adult, and still kept waiting for that sexual flowering to happen. And when it wasn't happening, I kept worrying and telling myself that I must be repressing something. I had fleeting fears that I might turn out to be gay if I looked too closely. I mean, what other possible explanation could there be for me not wanting to have sex with men? Until this year, when I did some serious sitting down with myself and allowing for anything I was, to be okay just as it is. And the horrible scary truth that I had to accept about myself was that, once I opened that closet door, it contained a big huge... nothing. A gust of wind. Echo... My id, let loose upon the world, would rather do something else. The option of "just not interested" had never been considered before, not as valid anyway. We, children of Freud. To have the thought "I never feel any need or drive to have sex with anybody, and that's perfectly okay, because that's just how I am" - was hugely liberating, and so much of my past, my behavior, my being different, my not fitting in, suddenly made sense. It was the first time for me to think that other people were actually experiencing something all along that I did not really know how to relate to because it simply wasn't there for me. I had done my best to imitate them because I figured this was just how we are supposed to behave to be normal. It had not occurred to me that other people actually felt driven by sexual attraction. To realize now that the reason I had always felt awkward and confused, was because I really was different, and that there is an option to be who I am, be aware of my actual feelings and have them be legitimate... Celebration!
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