recently, i figured out i'm on the asexual spectrum. i'm 35 years old, and i can count the number of times i've been interested in having sex. i am attracted to people mostly based on personality, but it's very rarely a sexual attraction. it's more that i just want to be around them. i can appreciate people i find aesthetically pleasing, but i have no desire to take them to bed. as far as that goes, when i find someone aesthetically pleasing, it's almost always faces, not bodies. i don't really want to see people without their clothes on, and watching people making out on tv makes me uncomfortable. sometimes i wonder if most people even realize how often people make out or have sex on tv. it's a lot.
my favorite parts of romantic relationships are really just the parts where we spend time together, hanging out and watching tv or playing games, snuggling on the couch, holding hands, playing with each others' hair, that kind of thing.
i don't personally know anyone else like this. i know that they exist, or there wouldn't be terms like asexual and graysexual, but it feels kind of lonely sometimes.
one time, when i was 18, i spent the evening with a friend, a guy who was six or eight years my senior, i can't remember now. we ran some errands, and he made dinner while we hung out at his apartment. he kissed me, and i wasn't sure how i felt about it, so i kissed him back, because that's what you do when a boy kisses you. kissing led to making out, and i ended up with my back on the floor and my bra undone and his hands all over me. i could tell he was really into it, so i tried to be into it, to.
but then he stopped. and he said something like, "i'm sorry, but i'm having trouble figuring out if you're enjoying this or not. do you want to stop?"
i was a virgin, but i'd had similar sexual encounters before. and nothing like this had ever happened to me. all i could think of to say was "um," and just kind of blink at him blankly.
so he stopped. he was totally aroused, and i didn't say i wanted him to, but he stopped. looking back, it was the nicest anyone had ever been to me in that kind of a situation. but back then, i was mortified. completely and wholly embarrassed and ashamed. because it was my job, wasn't it? to make sure that the boy came away from the experience satisfied?
he made an effort to make sure i was okay and things didn't get weird, but i couldn't feel un-weird about it.
i think about it a lot.
i wonder about other young girls, graysexual or not, and how many of them end up doing things before they're ready because they've learned that the keeping a boy around is the top priority, and/or because the boy isn't observant or caring enough to figure out that she's not ready.