A free pass out of all that

by baroquemongoose

One thing I possibly haven’t emphasised quite enough here yet is how utterly delighted I was when I finally worked out I was asexual.  I’m still delighted.  I honestly think it’s the most amazing thing ever.  Because, you see, it’s a free pass out of all that.

It’s a free pass out of being expected to be either in a relationship or looking for one.  (Unless you’re a Facebook advertiser, but if you are, just be aware that I settled your hash a long time ago by downloading AdBlock Plus, so you can no longer tell me about all the hot single men in my area or the spurious romantic messages I am supposed to have received via your dodgy app.)  That doesn’t mean I don’t ever want to do relationships, but it does mean I no longer get looked at oddly for treating them as an option rather than a necessity and not being afraid of “ending up single” (as though, you know, everyone had some kind of sell-by date, especially women; hang around me long enough and you’ll no doubt get to hear about my great-uncle, who was, I think, around 90 when he married for the first time, and his bride was in her late 80s).

It’s a free pass out of being on the receiving end of unwarranted jealousy.  (Usually.  There’s one long-running saga currently going on where that is happening, but the more I think about it, the less I think it’s really about sex.)  If you’re asexual, you’re safe for someone to let her husband or boyfriend geek out with.  Hint to jealous types: this is, in fact, normally still true for sexuals, although if you have definite evidence that your partner likes to play around, then certainly you need to be a bit more careful.

It’s a free pass out of being expected to be OK with, or indeed actively enjoy, sex scenes.  In the past I always made it quite clear that sex scenes were not my cup of tea, but I got a mixture of rather negative reactions to this, ranging from a sense that people thought something was wrong with me to obvious disbelief.  These days, people are so much more accepting: “oh, she’s asexual, obviously she’s not going to be interested in this”.  And it is a huge relief.  (Obligatory rider: being asexual does not automatically mean you don’t like this kind of stuff.  Some asexuals do.  Some do very much.  But it seems to be the norm among asexuals to be at least uninterested, sometimes actively repulsed.)

It’s a free pass out of those utterly mystifying (to me, anyway) conversations about hot celebrities.  These never used to go well when I was involved, because sooner or later I would end up asking, “But how on earth can you know whether he’s attractive or not?  You don’t know him!  All right, you’ve read some positive things in the media about him and that’s great – he does sound like a nice person – but I don’t see how you can decide he’s attractive based on that.”  And then they’d blink at me and go, “But he’s hot.”  And I’d be thinking “ERROR ERROR DOES NOT COMPUTE”, more or less.  These days, no problem.  Nobody tries to involve me in conversations like that, and we’re all happy.

All of this, dear reader, is why, when I contemplate my asexuality, I get this happy little glow inside and reflect that I have done absolutely nothing to deserve this but it is truly awesome.  And if you are sexual and equally happy with that, then good on you. 🙂

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