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So I’m here today to tell my coming out story. Coming out was not the hardest part of my orientation. My coming out (to my parents) was simple, quick, easy, efficient. “Mum, dad, I have a girlfriend.” My mum told me all she wanted was for me to be happy. My dad said he needed to think about that, and then said that “sometimes, as a parent, you just have to love your children for who they are.” He then never mentioned it again which, you know, hurts a bit, but at least he accepted it.
This is the most negative reaction I got when I came out. Just that he needed to think.
See why my story is boring?
I never officially came out to my peers, either, so no horror stories there. All that happened was one of my friends came out, and it was generally assumed that everyone around her was also homosexual. It’s a depressing thought on the assumption that everyone in a friend group must have the same orientation, but it’s not uncommon.
As I said before, coming out wasn’t the hard part. It was trying to figure out what orientation I was that was the trouble. Originally I’d tell anyone that asked that I was bisexual. It was simple, and I did seem to have a preference towards men. Eventually, however, I was introduced to the term “pansexual”. I was sixteen.
Defining pansexual was difficult – even just trying to explain the difference between pansexuality and bisexuality was hard. My pansexual friend’s explanation was that pansexuality was “gender-blind”. My explanation was that it looks less at someone’s aesthetics and more at their personality. Like, “that person is pretty, but I probably wouldn’t be inclined to have sex with them.”
Can you see why it’s a little embarrassing for me to remember how I described pansexual? Up until around six months ago, I was describing my own orientation wrong.
Okay, I was describing my orientation right. But I was just using the wrong label. I was describing asexuality. And that is a whole different kettle of fish.
Coming to terms with the fact that I had a romantic orientation rather than a sexual one was hard. In a society where sex sells, and sleeping with as many people as possible is the quickest way to climb the college (that’s High School for any American readers) social ladder, not having the innate desire to have sex is about the weirdest thing that could be done by anyone.
A little research on Aven quickly reassured me that yes, I wasn’t alone, and yes, there was nothing wrong with asexuality or asexual people. It reassured me somewhat.
So I came out. As asexual. And it was hard. A lot of the LGBT spectrum think that asexuals have it easy. I mean, how could we be oppressed? It wasn’t like we were being beaten up for our orientation.
This is true. I haven’t been attacked for my asexuality. But go back fifty years or so and listen to the sort of things that people used to theorise about gay people, and you’ll realise that the ignorance has been reduced only for the more high-profile orientations.
Look at it this way – have you ever been asked if you’ve been to the doctor to see if they can “cure your hormone imbalance”? Not for the last thirty years in educated society, I'm sure. I have. Have you ever been asked why you’re attention seeking? I have. Have you ever tried to have a conversation with someone, and all they want you to do is listen about their conversation with a mutual friend and “omg she said she wouldn’t sleep with anyone outside of a relationship, and I think she’s blatantly just come out as asexual. What do you think?” Okay, it wasn’t strictly like that, but I’m just asexual. I’m not a litmus paper test for other people’s orientations. I can’t comment on whether anyone is asexual or not.
Have you ever had a conversation like this:
“So, do you know who your girlfriend is sleeping with on the side?”
“Nobody, she’s in a relationship with me.”
“Oh come on, you’re asexual. Do you really think anyone would stay with someone without sex?”
That… That hurt. I’ve had conversations on that line more than once. And, every time, it irritates me. I mean, give people a little more credit – they can like someone for more than just sex, right?
Yes, asexuals aren’t beaten because of their asexuality. Yes, asexuals have a very low-profile orientation. But when a high percentage of people I talk to don’t believe I even have the capacity to love someone – when they don’t think that anyone would want to love me – don’t try to say I’m not being ridiculed because of my orientation.
I’m sorry; this has turned into more of a rant than anything else. So, I’ll claw back a little reputation and add on something constructive! My advice for coming out would definitely be to do it in a neutral setting, when you and whoever you’re coming out to aren’t too tired. Don't rush into it - you always have time. And, as always, just hope for the best! To anyone who may be asexual, or if you know someone who identifies as asexual, or if you just want to know what it is, then I'd suggest AVEN's forums, as always. For anyone looking to come out, I've put a video down the bottom of this post just for you. Also an obligatory asexuality video, because seriously people need to stop asking me questions that are unintentionally insulting.
This is the most negative reaction I got when I came out. Just that he needed to think.
See why my story is boring?
I never officially came out to my peers, either, so no horror stories there. All that happened was one of my friends came out, and it was generally assumed that everyone around her was also homosexual. It’s a depressing thought on the assumption that everyone in a friend group must have the same orientation, but it’s not uncommon.
As I said before, coming out wasn’t the hard part. It was trying to figure out what orientation I was that was the trouble. Originally I’d tell anyone that asked that I was bisexual. It was simple, and I did seem to have a preference towards men. Eventually, however, I was introduced to the term “pansexual”. I was sixteen.
Defining pansexual was difficult – even just trying to explain the difference between pansexuality and bisexuality was hard. My pansexual friend’s explanation was that pansexuality was “gender-blind”. My explanation was that it looks less at someone’s aesthetics and more at their personality. Like, “that person is pretty, but I probably wouldn’t be inclined to have sex with them.”
Can you see why it’s a little embarrassing for me to remember how I described pansexual? Up until around six months ago, I was describing my own orientation wrong.
Okay, I was describing my orientation right. But I was just using the wrong label. I was describing asexuality. And that is a whole different kettle of fish.
Coming to terms with the fact that I had a romantic orientation rather than a sexual one was hard. In a society where sex sells, and sleeping with as many people as possible is the quickest way to climb the college (that’s High School for any American readers) social ladder, not having the innate desire to have sex is about the weirdest thing that could be done by anyone.
A little research on Aven quickly reassured me that yes, I wasn’t alone, and yes, there was nothing wrong with asexuality or asexual people. It reassured me somewhat.
So I came out. As asexual. And it was hard. A lot of the LGBT spectrum think that asexuals have it easy. I mean, how could we be oppressed? It wasn’t like we were being beaten up for our orientation.
This is true. I haven’t been attacked for my asexuality. But go back fifty years or so and listen to the sort of things that people used to theorise about gay people, and you’ll realise that the ignorance has been reduced only for the more high-profile orientations.
Look at it this way – have you ever been asked if you’ve been to the doctor to see if they can “cure your hormone imbalance”? Not for the last thirty years in educated society, I'm sure. I have. Have you ever been asked why you’re attention seeking? I have. Have you ever tried to have a conversation with someone, and all they want you to do is listen about their conversation with a mutual friend and “omg she said she wouldn’t sleep with anyone outside of a relationship, and I think she’s blatantly just come out as asexual. What do you think?” Okay, it wasn’t strictly like that, but I’m just asexual. I’m not a litmus paper test for other people’s orientations. I can’t comment on whether anyone is asexual or not.
Have you ever had a conversation like this:
“So, do you know who your girlfriend is sleeping with on the side?”
“Nobody, she’s in a relationship with me.”
“Oh come on, you’re asexual. Do you really think anyone would stay with someone without sex?”
That… That hurt. I’ve had conversations on that line more than once. And, every time, it irritates me. I mean, give people a little more credit – they can like someone for more than just sex, right?
Yes, asexuals aren’t beaten because of their asexuality. Yes, asexuals have a very low-profile orientation. But when a high percentage of people I talk to don’t believe I even have the capacity to love someone – when they don’t think that anyone would want to love me – don’t try to say I’m not being ridiculed because of my orientation.
I’m sorry; this has turned into more of a rant than anything else. So, I’ll claw back a little reputation and add on something constructive! My advice for coming out would definitely be to do it in a neutral setting, when you and whoever you’re coming out to aren’t too tired. Don't rush into it - you always have time. And, as always, just hope for the best! To anyone who may be asexual, or if you know someone who identifies as asexual, or if you just want to know what it is, then I'd suggest AVEN's forums, as always. For anyone looking to come out, I've put a video down the bottom of this post just for you. Also an obligatory asexuality video, because seriously people need to stop asking me questions that are unintentionally insulting.
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