Her Campus Logo Her Campus Logo
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at La Verne chapter.

This past Wednesday was national National LGBTQ+ Center Awareness Day and Thursday was National Coming Out Day, which brought to mind my LGBTQ+ journey. 

Asexuals typically fall into two categories: they are either repulsed by sex or they are indifferent and can participate in intercourse if they want to be with their partner in that way. I fall into the indifferent category.

One of the best ways of explaining asexuality is like standing in front of your closet and it’s filled to the brim with shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, pajamas, sweaters, underwear, etc


and realizing you have nothing to wear. 

[Yes, I wear a lot of black.]

I never had one of those moments when I was a kid where I thought to myself, “Why do I feel different?” or “Why do I feel this way?” that some people claim to have. I was just me. Just a kid. The only reason I was confused was because other people were telling me I should be a certain way or were questioning why I am the way I am.

The way everyone was questioning me
 Odd how most people assume those who don’t automatically fit into the sexuality mold society gives them, they must be confused or questioning or simply misguided. If anything, I was questioning others why they were that way. 

Why were kids in middle school or high school (even elementary) so desperate to have a significant other? Was having a boyfriend or girlfriend so important? Why did I always accidentally eavesdrop on guys comparing porn collections or commenting on the substitute teacher’s breasts? Why were girls fawning over magazine spreads of the latest teen heartthrob shirtless? How did some people get so distracted by someone ‘hot’ or ‘sexy’ that they couldn’t pay attention to other things?

Was it just the internalized gender stereotypes perpetuated by society that made them act this way? 

Then I met people who took off that automatic label of heterosexual and came out clearly, loudly, proudly as lesbian, queer, gay, bisexual, pansexual
.and all other variations of it. 

Then I met people who didn’t subscribe to their automatic gender assignment and identified as transgender or agender or gender fluid, etc, etc, etc.

They still thought about sex and felt sexually attracted to others and wanted a boyfriend or girlfriend or lover just as much (sometimes even more than, but that’s another story) their straight counterparts.

If anything, it was only after I met people in the LGBTQ+ community that I started to question myself. That’s not to say I have anything against the community. Yes they made me question myself but don’t we all need some introspection in our lives? 

I had a moment in middle school where I thought I was a lesbian. If I wasn’t sexually or romantically attracted to men, maybe I was with women. Even that wasn’t definite because I couldn’t picture myself with women, I wasn’t sexually attracted to women or men. I even tried to be sexually attracted to others but just ended up failing because I realized quickly enough, that I didn’t want to live as someone else. So


Was I defective?

Like was there something in my brain science, a lack of the right hormone or a certain part of my brain was missing or something, anything?

I could and do, find people attractive either purely aesthetically or sexually but it’s always objective. I can recognize someone is sexy without wanting to have sex with them. 

I was the only person I had ever met that just genuinely did not care about being in a romantic relationship or having sex. I was just indifferent. 

I just didn’t/don’t give a fuck about getting fucked. [If you want me to be crass.]

Simple as that.

I’ve come to accept—not being asexual—the stigma that comes with not fitting into the mold. The derision, the jokes, the mocking, the misplaced pity that comes with not feeling the urge to have sex. 

I am who I am, and if people don’t like it


Too bad.

Insert Justin Bieber’s “Love Yourself” here.

Another great example is standing in an ice cream shop where your straight friends are ordering vanilla, your gay friends are ordering chocolate, your lesbian friends are ordering strawberry, your bisexual friends are wanting peanut butter, and your pansexual friends are ordering a sundae or one of everything. If you’re demisexual or gray-sexual, you might get frozen yogurt.

While you, an asexual, is lactose intolerant and only there because if everyone else wants ice cream except for you, too bad, majority rules.

So here I am. Coming out as lactose intolerant (not really).

Well, asexual. 

Funnily enough, I don’t really like ice cream.

 

*I do consider myself as part of the LGBTQ+ community because the rare occasions I do experience sexual attraction, has been with somebody that was not the opposite gender of me (I am female). Some asexuals can or do feel sexual attraction but it is so rare and/or fleeting (could be once or twice in a decade) that they may not consider it as them having a sexuality.

Her Campus Placeholder Avatar
Her Campus Placeholder Avatar