I have a vivid memory of being with a group of friends, teasing one of them having a crush. That concept of finding someone attractive was foreign to me, but at the ripe age of 13, it only felt like a passing thought.
In my early twenties as people around me blossomed from silly crushes into romantic relationships, the passing thought solidified into an identity for me; finding someone attractive and the idea of experiencing intimacy with them induced a discomfort I couldn’t explain within me.
Learning about asexuality was what put my turmoil of being “odd” to rest. For a few years, I was content and confident with who I was. Then at 20, I found myself attracted to someone, who made me feel warmed by the idea of a connection and life with them. Yet the idea of any sort of physical or sexual intimacy even with this person evoked only anxiety.
I still identified as asexual, but I wanted a relationship with this person who brought alive the romance within me. I was upfront about my asexuality with them even before we were in a relationship. They brushed it aside with surprising ease and understanding. We began a relationship.
Soon though, I realised that this person I wanted to hopefully build a future with, had a very different – and incredibly conventional – idea of the life we would lead. My first relationship eventually became my first heartbreak, when I came to terms with the fact that my asexuality was seen as a trait or habit that would change with time rather than a part of who I was.
Despite the blow I was dealt in my first relationship, I tried again and then a few more times. However, each time I found someone I felt I could connect with on a romantic or emotional level, anxiety set in soon.
A million questions would flood my mind every time; Is it too early to have the conversation? Is it too late now since I’ve gotten attached to them? What if they reject me?
This anxiety is a natural part of any “big talk” in a relationship – the topic of asexuality not excluded. The key to mitigating this anxiety is by fostering open communication with your partner about your asexuality. The goal is to build a safe space to have conversations, entertain questions and send resources about asexuality.
Despite all efforts from both sides to communicate and understand each other, it’s also important to remember that sometimes asexuality can be a deal breaker for some.
In my case, it has been a gut-wrenching deal breaker with people I genuinely wanted a life with. But something I’ve learned from experience is that rejection is not a reflection of our worth. It’s just incompatibility – like two puzzle pieces. If they don’t fit, you can’t force them.
You simply have to remind yourself that your perfect fit is out there – and while I wait for us to find each other, I will remain proud of my asexuality.
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