Being Asexual in a Hypersexual World

It's not easy to be asexual in a world that loves sex.

You're bombarded by it at every corner: the magazine covers, the advertisements, the movie trailers, the music, the media at large. It's hard not to look at all of it and think, "Am I wrong for not wanting this?"

Let me be clear: I love romance. I'm not aromantic. I wouldn't mind being in a relationship with someone. I like the idea of hand-holding and kissing. But sex? That's not really to my tastes, no matter how much people try to convince me otherwise.

For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me. I don't like to be touched. I cringe away from close contact with anyone, even if it's just a hug with a family member. And, when a boy asked me if I'd "ever been intimate" with anyone, I was struck speechless by the consideration that I'd never really pursued anyone in a way that would lead to a bedroom, romantic music, and a condom in a nightstand drawer.

What was wrong with me?

The Story Everyone Thinks They Have to Follow

When I was a young thing, I loved Disney's animated movies, especially when the princess of the hour would get her kiss. True Love's Kiss—it's supposed to be the most popular thing in the world, right? But the young Jillian would sigh longingly, all the while not quite realizing then where babies came from.

We're told from a young age that what you should want is that happy relationship which would then lead to marriage, then to consummation, and finally to children. Me? Even before I knew what sex was, I knew I didn't want it—and everything that came with it in society's strict view.

But, the older I get, the harder that is to vocalize. Let's say I do fall in love with someone and want to pursue a relationship. How do you tell someone who expects "normalcy" that you don't want anything to do with them in bed? Their feelings would be hurt, right? They might even think something was wrong with them—that my asexuality was just a cover to ease the blow of rejection.

I dread the day I tell someone I love, "Don't get me wrong, I love you, but I'm not going to have sex with you."

I see the storybook on that romance being closed super fast.

The Stigma of Asexuality

I think young asexual individuals hear it all the time: "You'll grow out of it. It's just a phase. You just haven't met the right person."

Moreover, it's just really hard to explain—or, I guess I should say, very awkward. While I know it's none of anyone's business, I want to tell my family, "Look, stop with the marriage and baby talk. I'm not interested in any of that. Never have been, never will be."

And therein is the gray area: someone will undoubtedly see fit to say that it's all about timing and the stars aligning and all that jazz—like there will one day be a lightning bolt that strikes me and I'll point to the nearest available gentleman and go, "You, me, bedroom, now."

There's also the problem that our society conflates true intimacy with sex, and that's such a dangerous narrative to feed to young people. Why do you think some young women still equate their worth to their virginity? Because they internalize from a young age that they're "pure" when they're not sullied by the act of sex. And, somehow, they should make sure their first time is with "someone special" and not someone throwaway.

Basically, how we go about teaching young people—both girls and boys—about sex is really screwed up. It's not that big of a deal. Do it, don't do it, it's no one's business. But just be safe with what you choose to do.

And if you only feel comfortable with letting someone just a tiny bit close? Follow your instincts. Your body's telling you something. Don't do anything you don't enjoy.

Where does that leave me?

I haven't outed myself to anyone I know in real life, and I don't know if I ever will. Sure, the family will probably look at me askance for years and years and think, "Why doesn't she have a boyfriend yet?" Even my dad, a recently church-going man, thinks I'm gay because I'm not in a relationship. No, Dad, sorry, I don't have a girl crush.

I like guys. I like their solidity and presence. I like their voices, their structure, their eyes.

But do I want to have sex with a guy? Hard pass, sorry.

I'm not out and proud about it (yet), but I'm ace.

And nobody can tell me otherwise.

Looking for more Pride Month material from me? I have just the thing: a Pride playlist, which is linked below. Enjoy, and be your proud self this month and every month!