Finding my label

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By: Victoria Marks

When I first heard the term “demisexual” I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I wasn’t an anomaly, I was a perfectly normal human being just like countless others. Then I cried.

I’ve only been attracted to, and wanted to have sex with, a grand total of four people in my entire life. I can objectively evaluate a person, look at them and say, “yes, their facial symmetry and manner of dress is appealing”, but it won’t mean I’m interested in sleeping with them. I’m what is called a demisexual, which is an identity on the asexual spectrum. Asexuality is both an identity and an umbrella term for someone who does not experience sexual attraction. It is not an orientation — meaning that you can be heterosexual or homosexual without being “sexual” at all — and, according to studies, our best guess is that 1% of the population is “ace” (though since asexual people are not typically open about their sex lives — or lack thereof — there is a chance that number is much higher).

Asexuality is different from being celibate or chaste. Asexuals are not abstaining from something they want, instead the want was never there in the first place. Being asexual doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong with you, and it certainly doesn’t mean you are sick or damaged.

Sexuality is a spectrum. Much like being hetero or homosexual, think of it as a scale, with most people existing somewhere from one end to the other. The label I found that best describes me is “demisexual”, meaning that I very rarely experience sexual attraction, but when I do it is because of a personal and emotional connection with the object of my affections. Outside of being attracted to a select few individuals, I don’t want to have sex. Often times my libido goes entirely dormant when there isn’t someone I’m attracted to in my life (which is most of the time). Usually I’m not attracted to anyone until I’ve known them and grown close to them over months, or sometimes years.

While labels can be incredibly comforting, they can also feel like a burden. Solving the mystery of my jack-in-the-box libido meant that I had to come to terms with the future of my sex life, which, to be honest, looks pretty bleak. I often worry that I’ve “used up” all my sexual attraction on people who didn’t deserve or reciprocate my affection during my teenage years.

I can never have gratifying casual sex, which seems to be everywhere when you can’t have any. I have to explain to every new partner that I may never want to have sex with them and I’ve been accused of not caring for someone because sexual attraction doesn’t magically appear alongside non-sexual affection. I often feel like my relationships are missing something without sex in them, since almost all relationships I see around me — fictional and non-fictional — involve sex. The only mainstream media representation of asexuality I can think of is a House episode where the patient has a brain tumor suppressing his sexuality. Watching relationships develop on television or in fiction is often an exercise in feeling like I can’t relate, while desperately wishing I could.

Asexuals are not abstaining from something they want, instead the want was never there in the first place. 

Labels can be great. They make you feel like you are not alone. They can establish communities and help you advocate for yourself. The visibility of the ace community has helped a lot of people understand themselves and come to terms with themselves, but the message that is often missed when trying to explain ourselves to sexual people is how alienating and difficult it can be to come to terms with being ace. To those who think they might be asexual, I want to say that it is alright to be frustrated and confused.

There is a lot of pressure in asexual communities towards self-acceptance — which is brilliant and as it should be — but I’ve spent so much time worrying about why I don’t feel fine that I think it is time for us to say that it’s ok to not be ok. I’m demi-sexual and proud, but not necessarily happy about it. And that is alright.

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