OK, here’s how basic asexuality works for me. And it took me until 40 to figure it out. The only times I’ve wanted sex, was simply out of hope that This Would Be It, I would finally feel what other people feel!
Aaaand it never happened. Sex for me was an awkward, boring, kind of gross experience. Every single time.
And I was married and had three kids.
I faked it, EVERY TIME. Because it was always a weird, messy, body function that was slightly more pleasant than washing dishes. A chore.
I lost my virginity at 21, because I was curious. And I thought, “That’s it?”
After I divorced. I tried dating a bunch of times. I had emotional crushes on people (men and women both), but it never went sexual. No matter how much I wanted it to. I would get crushes on celebrities and fictional characters, but never pictured myself doing The Deed with them.
I would have sex with men I dated. And I always and to fake it no matter how much I liked the guy. And I really liked some of the guys an awful lot. 🙁
Whenever I did masturbate, I would picture someone who wasn’t me having things done to them that were hot. It was usually two guys, because I don’t know what it feels like to be a guy, so I can make up what it feels like.
In my “fantasy” sex mind, sex always feels like how I want it to feel. Basically just the orgasm part. And orgasms are great and all, but not nearly as important to me as it is to most people.
Ugh this is hard to explain. I once had a mad crush on a man, when I was in the Navy. He was the husband of a friend, and I just adored this guy. He was funny and awesome! I wanted to hang around him all the time. I wanted to be special to him.
It was never sexual. I just didn’t understand that at 20.
Later, in my 30s, after he divorced my then ex-friend, I had a fling with him. When he said he was attracted to me, I got really anxious. But I had my little crush. I went and visited him. We had sex and it ruined my crush. Because sex was still gross and awkward. This guy was not bad at sex. But when we became sexual, the awesome crushy friend part went away.
I’ve never fallen in love. I’ve never felt more than a crush. And to me a crush feels like the excitement you get when you get involved in a hobby or a fandom. That rush of fun and wanting to know everything.
The love I feel for my kids is entirely different. It’s so intense it almost physically hurts. And it doesn’t feel like crush/obsessive hobbies at all. It’s a need. It’s this protectiveness. This wanting to make the world perfect for them. It’s caring about everything. How they feel, what they want, what makes them happy. What’s best for them even if it hurts me. They’re EVERYTHING. When I hold my kids, I feel warm and cuddly and that pang in my chest. I feel what they feel. I try to see everything from their POV. I want to kiss all the ouchies and makes everything better. My kids are teenagers now. I still feel that intense protectiveness and delight. And fear. And hope.
Love should be like that, I assume. Different, of course, but with that same forever feeling.
Here’s my best analogy:
Sex is like beer to me. I don’t like beer. I want to like beer. It looks awesome. Especially all icy on a hot day. I like the idea of a good beer. I appreciate the description of a high quality beer.
But it all tastes bad to me. I can make myself drink it. If I’m drunk I don’t even taste it. But it all tastes bad in the same way, and I can’t tell good from bad.
I can pretend in my head that beer tastes like hard cider or my some awesome carbonated juice. But actual beer is bitter and horrible.
So, actual sex and actual beer are two things I never want. No matter who talented the lover, or how finely crafted the brew. It makes me sad, actually.
So that’s asexuality for me. And 20 years of trying didn’t fix it.