Sunday, 27 September 2009

Coming Out In Middle School-Review

I recently read the Times article about 'Coming Out in Middle School'.
It's quite a long article (which is a nice change from the paragraph-or-two space-filling articles about teen sexuality) which talks mostly to American teenagers from 12 to 16 (again, covering new ground).
I liked the article because it didn't offer the opinion that these teens just 'didn't know themselves' and provided positive viewpoints.

Monday, 21 September 2009

Help Me...

Recently, the subject of my being in the closet has been rearing its ugly head all too often.
I'm under increasing pressure to be in a relationship from my mother (who did not take my 'coming out attempt' well at all), I'm constantly being faced with situations that force me to lie and closet myself more and more- to the point that I'm not sure people will believe me if and when I admit to them that I'm asexual- and my friends are bringing out the insecure beast in me.
Shallow, isn't it?
With October the 12th fast approaching, I've been preparing for AVED.
I want to do as much as possible (as mentioned in the previous post) and so I have been thinking up ways to make AVED 2009 memorable.
But there is only so much I can do in the asexual community, as I am most definitely not 'out' to my family.
To me, being in the closet generally doesn't pose much of a problem- but it does when it comes to family. Whenever I consider attending an asexual meetup, the problem's there. Whenever I consider buying an AVEN T-shirt, it's there.
I know for a fact that if I tried to come out to my mother today, she wouldn't take it well.
She has a problem with anyone under the the age of sixteen (strangely, sixteen's fine- you must magically age on your birthday) having any orientation identity other than heteronormative.
Not just asexual, but bi, trans, pan and even the most straight-foward, homosexuality is 'just a phase' for anybody under sixteen.


Wednesday, 16 September 2009

Life, the Universe and Little-Kiddywinks

Today, I had my first class in my PSME/Citizenship course. Inevitably, the talk of the class turned from 'Do well in your other courses' to 'don't get in debt' to 'get married and have kids'.
Our teacher was lecturing us about how we should know what we want in life, but when it became obvious that she was talking about "settling down " and there were some murmurs, she then produced the age-old line
"You may say that now, but I bet in a few years your views will change."
Now, it's well-known to the class that I'm definitely not open to the idea of marriage, and when I mentioned to the woman that neither was I intending to get married, nor was I planning on popping sprogs out, she obviously thought that this too was a cliche and went on to talking about safe-sex, and how they are often "Famous last words".**
At the time, I was throwing glances at my friend (who is the only person that's really aware I'm asexual) and laughing, but later, it made me think.
I may know that it's not likely that marriage etc. is going to happen to me, but everyone else around me- save my friend- is ignorant to that fact.
It makes me feel isolated and has pretty much put a damper on my otherwise-nice day.
When things happen like that (and they are happening, with increasing regularity) that effectively 'put me in the closet', they make me feel like a fraud and a liar.
So what? You ask. Sexual identity is not the Be all and End all of your life.

I attend a single-sex school full of hormonal, heteronormative teen girls *.
The 'sexual tension' is highly charged at times, and it's easy to feel out of place. Add to that to the fact that I'm a sexual minority and one of my best friends is gorgeous, constantly has guys after her and is a borderline-nymphomaniac, and it makes for some nasty emotions.

That's why I have vowed to get the word out on AVED 2009. Come October the 12th, I am going to be doing my utmost to help with visibility and whatnot. I don't want anybody within my figurative reach to feel the way I sometimes do...
The way I am starting to feel everyday.
*When I say 'heteronormative, I mean it. My school's population is so small, the statistics for gay and bisexual people aren't enough for even one person put together. I'm just an anomaly, I guess.
**I'm sorry about using so many quotations, but the lesson really was one whole big cliche ):/

Wednesday, 9 September 2009


Recently -like many other ace bloggers- I've been thinking about Squishes.
Yes, that's right- Squishes, the asexual version of a crush.
For me (and I think many other asexuals) a squish is like the fledgling stages of a crush, or rather, a crush that a younger person may have.
Now, I'm not saying that asexuals are immature (Well, I can be, but that was always going to happen, asexuality or not), but that a squish is like a crush without the sexual tension. Sure, you are ridiculously happy whenever your victim -ahem, object of your affections- does anything to acknowledge you, and it may result in some hardcore Facebook stalking just like a regular crush, but there isn't the desire to do more than hug, hold hands and generally be intimate in a non-sexual way.
Now, to me.
I'm currently 'Squishin' majorly on someone- so majorly that it has become, in fact, Squishzilla.
But I have a teensy problem. He isn't asexual. Quite the opposite in fact, and he wouldn't understand asexuality if it was explained to him.
So... Say even if I was sexual, I would have a 10% chance of getting together with him.
Well, I have a less than 0.1% chance of getting together with him the way things are.
People that think that because asexuals don't have to 'worry' about sex, their lives are automatically easier, but... It's definitely not the case.

Friday, 4 September 2009

My Black Ring is Gone!

As y'all now know, I am -or was- the proud owner of a black ring.
It being glass, it was only ever supposed to be temporary, but it looked awesome and now that it's snapped in two, it makes me sad. Wearing the ring was not only a symbol so that others aces I met on my travels (as if, in the WestCountry) could recognise me, it was also a symbol for myself.
It gave me confidence in myself whenever being different got me down, made me feel a part of something that buoyed me up when I needed it most. And now that feeling is gone.
For the moment, all I have is me- and the phantom ring that results from wearing it day in, day out. I feel like an amputee.

On the plus side, I get to look for an even nicer ring when I go shopping to Bristol tomorrow. Any store suggestions?