Dear, guys – welcome back to Letters From Liz!
Today’s post has a very Overexposed vibe to it. I wanted to talk about something that’s been on my mind for awhile now. I never came to terms with this just because I was still defining who was and what it was that I really wanted out of life. Well, in November I shared that I’m demiromantic, and it’s been a very important part of my identity and I’ve made it very apparent what my intentions were in new friendships. Because of this blurred line of friendships and romantic relationships, I learned how to set boundaries with anyone new that enters my life. I can romantically love my friends, but because of the boundaries I’ve set for myself and for the people in these newfound friendships, I’m able to be open about my romantic attraction but know to keep things healthy and friendly. Like I’ve mentioned a million times before, I will not have sex with you.
I say that, and yeah, perhaps it comes off as a joke because like, haha love your friends but don’t have sex with them, but I actually mean it. Actually, I mean it as an indefinite thing.
It’s been a year since I had sex, but even before becoming celibate, I used to get really panicky whenever sexual intimacy was suggested in my last relationship, I started to get really insecure and repulsive to the thought of me having sex, and it was something I just didn’t want to have anymore. Let me disclosed that I don’t have sexual abuse trauma, it was simply something that changed in me.
When my relationship ended, I didn’t miss being sexually intimate with someone I loved. I didn’t miss the act of having it, I feeling behind it; literally sex rarely came to mind. Sure, there were qualities in people that turned me on, but it never went anywhere and I realized a lot of my turn-ons weren’t sexually driven, they were… energy driven? In the most explicit ways, yeah: the same sex can have an amazing energy and it will have me intrigued.
Within the last year, I’ve met a couple of people of the same sex that I really vibe with well. It was confusing at first because I started to get– in a sense– a liking to them in the same way most people find in potential partners for romantic relationships. I loved them to pieces and I love them just as much as I would do a romantic partner because of the deep connections I have with them, but I’m not sexually attracted to girls. I also found myself gaining that same type of love for those who were not straight and whose who don’t romantically or sexually like women, but I still felt them. TLDR, I really can experience a deep love for someone no matter who they are or how they identify themselves. I just love them for them. That’s when I figured that I was possibly demi. I was still sexually attracted to guys and found guys sexy, but it still didn’t feel right to me. It wasn’t a “I’d have sex with him” thought, it was more so “you’re attractive, but I’m feeling your vibe, so can I get to know you and hopefully whatever this becomes doesn’t lead to sex because I can’t imagine myself having sex for awhile.” I just wanted some good friendships that felt mutually about me as I do them while keeping boundaries to respect each other in the friendship.
But even in the friendships I’ve made with people within the last year has made me realize I am at my happiest when I’m talking to people I care about, that care about me, and allow me to be my complete myself without any judgment. I am at my happiest when I remind my friends that I love them and that I’m immensely grateful for their presence in my life. I am at my happiest when I can just express myself without any seek of approval from friends; they take me in as much as I take them in. Simplicity, after most of my life making things complicated.
I don’t know if my future relationships will change this; perhaps my asexuality is something that bests defines me in this moment, whereas my demiromanticism is something I’ve felt almost in every friendship I had in my life… even if demiromantic/sexual falls under the asexual umbrella. At the end of the day, I live my life in the gray, because nothing defines me and I don’t define any label. I’m just… me.
Asexuality is different for everyone, and my asexuality also does not mean that I look down on sex completely. Listen, have all the sex you want, like go ahead and get your freak on, but it’s just not for me. I repulse myself having sex, not the idea of sex.
So, here I am, coming to terms that for awhile I’ve fallen under the asexual umbrella, and even coming to this realization, nothing has really changed. I’m just valuing the friendships I have in my life and the simplicity of just experiencing love on a platonic level.
Letters From Liz. 