Most people hear the term “asexual” and immediately think of a sexual orientation. Beyond that, however, asexuality is an umbrella term for those who experience fluctuating, limited, or no sexual attraction to people. This, in its entirety, is commonly referred to as asexuality or ace spectrum, usually shortened to acespec. As an acespec person myself, I think it’s a wonderful thing to be on said spectrum– in fact, I’ve known I was since I was 12 or 13 years old. The issue, for me at least, arises when interacting with my allosexual (those who experience sexual attraction and possibly engage in sexual acts) friends.
It seems fairly common that friends will openly discuss their sexual escapades with their acespec friends, sometimes completely unprompted. It makes me wonder if there’s this idea that an acespec person wouldn’t judge them in the same way as another allosexual person would. Though most acespec people probably won’t judge in these conversations, I find myself feeling a little black butterfly in my stomach when I have to hear about them. Most would probably assume it’s something along the lines of jealousy, but I assure you that it’s not. It’s an entirely different feeling, one that may be universal.
It almost feels shameful, in that moment, to be an acespec person.
Being on the asexuality spectrum as a teenager, for me at least, felt normal. There’s something so adult about having sex to a teenager that not having it feels fine. An acespec teen feels average in a way. When you’re a teenager, and you hear that your friends are having sex, it feels like everything and nothing– a scandal of sorts for the moment, but then it blows over, and no one cares. Maybe as a teen, you don’t fully understand the concept of sex as a whole, and that’s fine. You don’t need to do it, just some people do.
I’ve realized there’s a shift in your adult life, though. Suddenly, your friends are having casual sex, they’re talking to you about it, and you’re simply not. You understand sexual intimacy now, you understand sex as a concept, and that changes everything. It still feels like an adult activity, but now you feel almost immature for not doing it yourself. You’re an adult, you want to feel like an adult… But now you feel as though you’re put together incorrectly. There’s no security blanket provided by your age anymore. You simply feel wrong because you aren’t doing what’s expected of you. What felt normal and correct to you suddenly feels wrong or childish due to societal expectations.
Suddenly, you’re “falling behind” all of your friends.
In actuality, you’re completely within your rights not to engage in sexual activities as a person on the asexuality spectrum if you don’t want to. After all, consent is incredibly important, so if you don’t want to have sex? Don’t give in to the pressure of having it. You don’t deserve to feel inadequate because of your own sexual orientation, regardless of what it is. You’re not “falling behind” as the friend on the ace spectrum; you’re simply being yourself, and that’s what’s beautiful about it.
Featured image via “Asexual network at Stockholm Pride” by trollhare, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
This some real shit