Dear former self.
The first time we’ll realize something was off with us will be during our first sex education class. The course was always easy. Just factual information about the genitalia and inner workings of a human. People our age were discussing pornographic films, which were alien to us. Maybe we were behind on the loop? Were we missing something? The acts sounded gross. Still, we’ll look it up when we get home after school. Gross. Horrifying. Uncomfortable. Those three words were how we’ll describe watching it. We’ll fling our phone across the room, disgruntled by what we’ve seen. It wasn’t scary, but it was revolting. Our first thought will be that we’re too immature. We’re completely immature and not ready to experience sex.
Then we date our second boyfriend. The first one was online, so he’s not much to talk about. This one, however, helped pave the way. We were young, and at first I thought it was because of our age difference. A thirteen year old with an eighteen year old was a taboo subject; I don’t know why we dated someone that much older than us, but we did. Maybe we weren’t ready for sex. He was. We ended up compromising on oral sex. I remember hating it. How bad was it? Nothing too intimate, but the whole thing was weird to us. It made him happy, so it was fine. We broke up after. He claimed that we were too young for this, and we’ll feel all our feelings for him disappear after that. Were they ever there in the first place? Looking back, no. We felt nothing for him.
Our third boyfriend. Two years later. Half way through ninth grade, and he’ll make us laugh. He really liked us. We didn’t do much. Holding hands. Text constantly. Dance around physical affection. Our friends were nothing alike, and we’ll feel like the star of some teenage coming of age story. The unpopular kid dating the most popular. I wish I could say we loved him. After the first kiss, we’ll realize we have to break up with him. He had such intense feelings that we couldn’t return. We’ll feel awful, but trust me, it’s worth the messy breakup in the end.
We’ll date around. Searching for that person who can make us fall in love. That’s all I wanted, and I know it’s what you want now. After the fourth, we’ll realize we have to start telling people that we wouldn’t last. We try to tell our fifth partner, our first girlfriend, that we’d break up with her after a couple months. We can’t fall in love, we’ll discover. She still agreed to date us.
She lasted a year. A surprise, truly. I guess it’s because we’re such close friends. Yes, we turned her down again and again, not wanting to break her heart. She’ll keep hinting at it. Finally, we’d kiss her by both eating a pickle and meeting in the middle. There was nothing there, but we did it, so we’ll agree to date her, letting her know she wouldn’t last. The year was nice. Our dates will be us mindlessly traveling around the city, eating at diners and cafes. When we break up with her, she’ll take our hand. She’ll thank us for the experience, and she’ll say we would always be friends. We still are, if you’re wondering. I trust her with my life.
We’ll grow older. Now in our junior year of high school, we’ll start dating someone else. We didn’t enjoy sex per se, but we’re able to recognize when a partner enjoys it. A clear distinction. Watching sex makes us feel gross, but pleasing a significant other was fine for some reason. The only thing we should make clear in the future is that we don’t wish to be pleased. We’d rather make them happy. Maybe now it’s because I realize we would never love them; this is all we could ever provide.
We broke up. They went to college, and we were already itching to leave the relationship. We’ll have to call them; a terrible way to break up, I know. They were already a few states over. Say to them that we need an out. Say we can’t date them because it was unfair. They loved us, and we had nothing to give now that we were so far apart. They’ll listen, talk it through with us, and we’ll remain friends.
I like to describe us as a hopeless romantic aromantic. Even now, we crave love and adoration. We want to feel our stomach do flips as we kiss someone under the stars. We long for the feeling one gets when they realize they wish to marry someone. Instead, we get this idea of a false romance. Dating someone until they grow too attached. If one was to never obtain feelings for us, we’d be happy. It’s the longing we love, not the person. We spent so long trying to describe this feeling, and this is the best explanation we have so far.
I learned that we’re a sex neutral asexual. We don’t like sex or crave it, but we’re happy when a partner is. Seeing them enjoying intimacy makes us feel like we’re not heartless. That’s why we never asked for it in return. We’ve already taken so much.
I wish I could tell you that we’re not broken. That we’re not immature or a late bloomer. I want to tell you to stop playing with people’s hearts for your own twisted sense of love. We only hurt them and ourselves in the end.
I swore off of dating once we reached college. Yes, we still crave affection and romantic outings, but we’ve learned to withhold ourselves of such things. The title of being asexual aromantic made it easier. We were never evil. We weren’t someone who purposefully broke people. We were confused and lonely. I’d love to tell you this. We might’ve saved so many relationships if we knew. All the friends we lost because we didn’t know how to explain our lack of attraction.
If I could, I’d tell you all of this. It probably wouldn’t have mattered. The path we took to discover this wouldn’t change. We would always dance this dance and stumble over our feet. We still do when someone expresses attraction now. We freeze, tell them what will happen, and pray they let us go. They never do, and they tend to be surprised when the inevitable happens.
You’re still important. Your coming out as ace-aro is nothing to scoff at. You’ll deal with so much to make it, and I’m so proud of you. Even after all the errors and heartbreaks. Even after you felt a strange resentment towards Valentine’s Day because you couldn’t fall in love. Even after you write this piece again and again, trying your hardest to express how this coming out was life changing. You found a label and a community that was fit for you. Now, be proud. Chin up, kid. Don’t let your past oversights get you down.
With love,
Maxwell Vlam.
