Exploring My Orientation FURTHER on National Coming Out Day

October 11, 2023

Today is October 11, celebrated annually as National Coming Out Day, and it's the third anniversary of when I posted my original coming out story on this blog. I've been wanting to share this update for so long, and the time has finally come! It's a great update, if I do say so myself, and I'm very happy to be sharing it with all of you.

Despite being outdated now, the original post does contain a lot of information leading up to my coming out, such as how I realized I was biromantic and asexual, why I masqueraded as straight for so long, and the women who made me question it. I still encourage you to read it if you're interested in that.

And of course this update is not to say that my orientation has changed, but that my understanding of that orientation, as well as my preferences, wants and needs, have changed. When I wrote the previous article three years ago, I ended it by saying that I might post an update someday for these exact reasons. Even then, I realized that I was still a "baby ace" and that I was still working to overcome my own internalized homophobia, which I considered to be the result of an upbringing where same-sex relationships were not celebrated.

While there was nothing wrong with the original post, re-reading it now makes me realize how much I was still holding back at that time. Now, I feel like I have had so much more time and experience, to better understand who I am, and be able to embrace every part of myself so much better than before. I'm happy to say I no longer hold myself back or deny any part of my identity the way I did then, and it feels so liberating to be able to post this update three years later.

Back then, I wrote that, despite my aesthetic attraction to men and women being pretty equal, I still had a romantic preference for men, and that a hetero relationship felt more natural to me. I followed that up by saying that it takes time to unlearn your old ways, especially if you grew up in a homophobic family, and that I expected this could change after I had done more work to deconstruct the boundaries of internalized homophobia. That prediction turned out to be 100% correct, and with time I was able to fully embrace all facets of my orientation, in particular my love for women.

I originally said that I would consider myself a 2 on the Kinsey scale, or even a 1, which now sounds completely ridiculous to me. I was still new to identifying as biromantic at that time, and I do believe it's normal for our preferences to begin to shift as we settle into our identities more. Either that or our comfort level does. I've heard the same from others who came out as bisexual or biromantic.

I think a lot of it comes from living in a society where it can still be difficult to come out, and especially if you were raised in a religious or conservative family and witnessed homophobia from family members growing up. Another part of it is probably just the fact that it can be difficult to transition from having one identity for such a long time, to having another identity that is completely different. There may always be a period of "in-between" until you become comfortable in your new identity.

So when bi people first come out, they often believe they still have a preference for the opposite sex, but in time it tends to become more equal or the scale even tips in the other direction. Of course, some people might come out as bi first, and then later realize they don't really like the opposite sex at all and begin to identify as gay or lesbian. Whatever you end up identifying as is valid -- and so is every step along the way. It is all a part of our self-discovery journey.

As for my new Kinsey scale number, I would say I'm a definite 4. There's absolutely no way I'm anywhere below a 3.

At this point, I am proud of my love for women and no longer minimize it. I have continued breaking down those walls of internalized homophobia that arose from my upbringing, and I can now embrace this part of myself as much as I've embraced it in others. I've also begun to describe myself as queer and truly lean into that label. My support of queer people now also includes me.

I now have more experience with female crushes, seeking AFAB partners, and unfortunately, having my heart broken by women as well. Just as with all of my male crushes of the past, I continue to have the worst luck imaginable. Luckily, I'm still really happy being single and embracing the freedom that comes with it, because I know that the most important relationship I'll ever have is with myself.

Although my aesthetic attraction to men and women is fairly equal (this much is still true) and I've experienced romantic attraction for every gender, I'm at a point in my life where I would prefer to date a woman, at least in the long-term. I might casually date men from time to time, but I don't want to settle down with a man (if I settle down at all).

Of course I don't get to choose the people I become interested in, and understand that sometimes things can happen that we didn't expect or necessarily desire. If I did get to choose, I wouldn't let myself fall for men anymore -- and honestly I think that would be the case with many straight women as well because men can so often be problematic -- but attraction can still happen against our will. I still insist that whatever happens with me relationship-wise will depend greatly on the people who end up coming into my life, and as it is currently, I seriously hope to avoid having strong feelings for anybody for a long time. Every time I've been in that position, I've just gotten hurt, and that's not a trap I'm trying to fall into again.

While I still prefer the term bi to pan, I do also think that panromantic could pretty easily describe me as well; however, the main reason I choose not to use it is that my romantic attraction is sometimes tied to my aesthetic attraction. Not always, but I can definitely find different traits attractive in men and women, so to say that my attraction is completely unrelated to gender would be inaccurate. Bi is still what feels right to me. But I want to make it clear that I have never viewed the bi label as ruling out trans, non-binary, or intersex people.

Now that we've discussed the bi part of my identity, let's move onto the ace part.

When it comes to my asexuality, I've begun to think of that slightly differently as well -- but only slightly. I went through a period over the past year or two where I was admittedly questioning whether or not I was "fully ace." After meeting a couple of love interests who really stood out to me, I was kind of straddling a border between identifying as strictly ace and identifying as grey-ace, not really being sure which was more accurate. Maybe there's even a bit of a demi side in there somewhere. Technically you could probably say that I'm ace-flux, which is a label that describes someone who's definitely on the ace spectrum but fluctuates within it. For instance, completely asexual at times, grey or demi at others.

But I'm not stressing myself out about the difference between these labels anymore. I don't really think this is the case, but even if I have a grey/demi side, that's okay, because they are all valid parts of the asexual spectrum. To be honest, does it all even really matter? While micro-labels are often very helpful for people trying to find exactly where they fit, there's no need to choose one if you don't feel it 100% suits you. I personally prefer the more broad, simple label of asexual and for now that's how I'll continue to identify. Obviously, this is a personal decision to be made at each individual's discretion and everyone should choose a label that feels right to them. For myself, I've grown to understand that feeling some sort of desire for one person out of the thousands I meet does nothing to invalidate my identity within the asexual community, and therefore I don't necessarily feel the need to choose another label.

I am definitely not opposed to being called grey-bisexual either, but will probably mostly stick with biromantic ace. Either way, I know this for sure: I am bi, and I am ace. When talking about it to new people, I sometimes just say "I'm on the asexual spectrum" because that covers it either way.

Additionally, desire doesn't equal attraction. Sexual attraction is so confusing to me that I honestly have no idea if I have ever experienced it or not, but I feel like I probably would know if I had. I consider myself ace because I don't think I have, at least not in the same way allosexual people do, and possibly not at all. But the lines can be blurry even for me -- especially when sensual attraction comes into play.

(Somebody remind me to someday post the article about different types of attraction, another thing I've been planning to do ever since my first Coming Out Day post in 2020.)

I can experience pretty strong sensual attraction for certain people, which is a type of attraction closely linked to sexual but not quite the same. This type of attraction can involve all five of our senses, particularly wanting to touch and be close to someone in a sensual way, which isn't necessarily sexual but could be if both parties want it. When this happens, I definitely become more sexually open-minded, or in the proper terms of our community, sex-favorable -- but that doesn't really mean anything because being sex-favorable doesn't mean you aren't asexual. I do think it's easy, at least for myself and others who don't feel that way very often, to get confused when experiecing this and question our identity when there is really no need to.

Asexuality is a lack of attraction, and action doesn't equal attraction, so being sex-favorable, in general or only with a certain person, is not the same as being sexually attracted.

For those who aren't aware, let me explain in more detail: there is a scale that we in the asexual community use to describe our level of interest in sexual activities. This scale helps us not only explain certain things to others but can also be helpful in seeking a partner with similar desires. There are four categories or levels of interest:

People in all four categories are still asexual.

While I might always lack sexual attraction in a literal sense, I find that the way I feel about a particular person can make me swing wildly back and forth on this scale. This is why I say that ace-flux is a label you could probably use for me, if it makes you feel better.

I usually categorize myself as sex-averse. There are so many things that I would rather be doing, and I don't have a sex drive at all. Generally I consider it the same as a hobby that some people are really into (such as collecting vinyl or watching reality TV) but I just don't find interesting. If I were with someone I cared about, I might be more likely to willingly take part in that hobby for their benefit, but not so much for my own. For instance, I have watched movies I had no interest in because a partner wanted to, or maybe I would join them in a video game that was important to them despite not being a gamer myself, or go see a band I don't care for because it was important to them to share that experience with me. This is not something I'd want to do very often, and we would be incompatible if they expected it of me all the time, but once in a while is fine.

There are, of course, certain people out there who make me swing more toward sex-repulsed, as well. Even for allos and people with high sex drives, there are people with whom the idea of sex makes you cringe; but for me, I do think that category includes A LOT more people than it would for an allo. Even among those who are perfectly hygenic and good-looking, there are many that I would never want to touch me, and it isn't necessarily anything about them personally. It's just a severe lack of chemistry, or an anti-chemistry if that's a thing (actually, I'm pretty sure the opposite of chemistry would be repulsion).

It was only last year when I realized that I can actually become sex-favorable too, but only in the case of very special people. Basically, only when I feel sensually attracted to someone. That's the type of chemistry I need in order to think, "Okay, I'd be fine with that."

I now consider these fluctuations a normal part of life, and not something that makes me question who I am anymore. I'm firm in my identity and also open to continued fluctuations as I get older, but I also am beginning to realize more and more that they've always been there, and it only took settling into my identity for them to feel normal to me.

This realization helps me make more sense of the years before I came out, too.

When I first realized I was ace, it felt like all of the attraction I'd felt for people in the past wasn't real; and in many cases, this is true. I definitely did a lot of things I wasn't super fond of and acted like I was experiencing attraction in a normal way because I felt like I was "supposed" to, and I was trying to gain the approval of the person I liked by pretending I was more interested in sex than I actually was. There were a lot of times that I was only excited by the idea of being with someone conventionally attractive, flattered by their attention, and also overcompensating for my natural lack of sexual interest or trying to feel something I didn't. Even people I was still interested in for other reasons. I wasn't trying to lead them on or anything, and I really liked them, but I just wasn't capable of feeling the kind of attraction most people do.

But there were also times when my sensual attraction for a certain person was real and I was more sex-favorable because of it, in a way that was actually genuine. Looking back, I would say the number of people I've experienced this with is a lot smaller than I thought it was before coming out, but it isn't zero, either. I would say it's about 5 or 6 at this point -- both before and after coming to terms with being ace. In a 17-year romantic history, that's a pretty small number.

What sex-favorable means to me is that I actually have a desire to take a more active role or even pursue a sexual relationship rather than doing it only because they want to or because I feel obligated. It means their pleasure makes me happy enough that I want to engage in activities I normally wouldn't -- and while the other person still might be more excited about those activities than I am, maybe I can find enjoyment in them as well. Some things more than others, though; and to be honest, the things I find most enjoyable are what others would consider "foreplay," because, again, it's about sensuality to me rather than sexual pleasure.

After coming out, I didn't think I would have that type of sex-favorability again, because I wasn't sure it had ever actually been real, or if it had all been overcompensation. Now that I had come to terms with the fact that I just didn't care for sex that much (and that it's perfectly okay not to), I didn't think I would have the ability to feel that way anymore, if I ever actually had in the first place. When I did feel it again for the first time, I won't lie, it shook me up a little. But I now understand that this has always been part of me and probably always will be.

Over the three and a half years since coming out as ace, I have grown to understand my desires and my identity more than I ever have in the past. Before coming out, it was confusing because I didn't feel the way I thought I was supposed to. Immediately after coming out, it was confusing when I occasionally felt a way I didn't think I was capable of. But now -- I feel like I have reached peak understanding of myself and am more confident than I've ever been in who I am.

However, there is probably more work to be done, as our identities seem to be constantly in motion -- and some of these realizations I have only come to recently, giving me plenty of time to settle into them even more in the future. Maybe in another three years, or five, or even next year, I'll have another update in which I can say that I've grown even further. Who knows.

When closeted/unknowing asexual people first discover that the label exists and begin to research it, they often describe a feeling of everything suddenly making sense to them. When they finally realize that there are others out there who feel the same way and that there's nothing "wrong" with them -- but rather that there's an entire sexual orientation they didn't know existed that describes them perfectly -- it's very liberating. I experienced this myself when I first realized I was ace. But there was so much more to learn.

Over the first few years that followed, I've been able to look back at my past, and everybody in it, and gain a better understanding of not only who I am now, but who I've always been. This process continues through today, as well. I sometimes look back and ask myself, without the filters and smoke screens caused by my lack of understanding at that time, how did I really feel about this particular person in regards to attraction? It's helpful to take a thorough look at the headspace I was in at that time and re-evaluate my past feelings knowing what I do now, as it gives me a better understanding of my own history, and therefore, my present and future. Sometimes the answer is surprising, and sometimes it's exactly what I would have expected, but either way, continuing to gain a more thorough understanding of who I am is a beautiful thing.

tags: asexuality, lgbtqia+