I am a hetero-oriented demi/grey-romantic asexual person.

It has taken me exactly 2.5 years to sit down and pen this essay. I first thought about writing it in August 2021. Despite my pitch being approved, I could not bring myself to write it. Am I lazy about putting in the work to write? Yes, absolutely. I did not feel motivated. But the actual reason that held me back was that it required me to be vulnerable about my deepest thoughts and feelings. This story requires me to disclose things that I do not talk about openly. Of course, there is no pressure and no one is asking me to write; it is entirely my own will. I wanted to write and share my story but doing that meant admitting to myself what I have been feeling for a long time. It required confronting myself to clear the confusion and get a better understanding of myself. It was a necessary process because once this experience is out there in the written word, there is no hiding from it anymore.

But I do not want to put my name on it. I am not ready for that bit and will never be. Anonymous feels safer.

I learnt about asexuality in 2020, at the age of 31. I knew what ‘A’ stands for in LGBTQIA+ but never gave much thought to it. Over two years of regular consultations with my psychologist enabled me to understand myself. It helped me to figure out what I want in a romantic relationship, what would be the nature of it, why I want one, and if I even wanted such a relationship. In this journey of working upon myself I discovered my own sexuality, which was always there inside me and with me but I did not have a name for it. I could not recognize it.

Also read: The Mystery of Asexual and Aromantic Folx

I always knew that my relation with sex is not what I see as the prevailing norm around me. I have been in love, more than once, but never felt the need or desire to even hug or kiss the person. So sex was a faraway concept of an experience that I didn’t feel the need for. I never felt that I needed physical intimacy of any level. My wish was to experience and express the love, the deep and intense emotions that I felt. All I wanted was to experience emotional intimacy.  My feelings were never reciprocated so one may say that since I had never been in a committed relationship, I cannot be sure or maybe it is a case of “sour grapes”. But I know that in my body, mind, and heart, I have complete clarity on what I want right now and in future. While I was grieving the lack of-reciprocation of my romantic feelings, people have said that since there was no sex involved the damage is less, which means the intensity of pain would be lesser. I understand that it may be a well-intentioned concern, but the damage, if at all we use this word, was not any less than what a sexually-active person might go through.

Once I even manipulated my own self into thinking that maybe a relationship wasn’t happening for me because I am not ready for sex or any sort of physical intimacy. I misguidedly applied the ‘law of manifestation’ popularized by The Secret and thought that maybe I have not channeled my desires in the right direction. It put me in a great dilemma when I felt no physical attraction to the boy I was in love with. I somehow had this idea, or maybe it was conditioning, that once I am in a relationship then physical intimacy might happen eventually, as if it is a natural corollary that is bound to happen on autopilot. Couples get physically intimate and that was a truth I was aware of. I thought, maybe I would be ready if I channeled my desires into getting ready for it. However, it turned out to be not true.

Also read: As an Asexual Person, Sex is all the More Important to me

At first I thought that I might be demi-sexual; in my head I assumed that when I get into a committed, emotionally-intimate relationship, then of course physical intimacy would follow and lead to sex, because if not this then what. The major gap here was the check-in with myself. I had to pause and ask myself if I wanted to have sex? The answer was a clear no. Sex was irrelevant and unnecessary for me. I revisited my journey from the time of adolescence till date, and it made me more certain that I have never wanted to have sex. Regardless of whether I was in love or found someone good-looking, I had never wanted to come close to them physically. I completely understood the act of sex at the age of 18. There was a complete absence of curiosity that might have otherwise propelled me to learn about it. Learning about the act, penetration in particular, made me extremely uncomfortable (physically). To me, it felt intrusive. I remember sharing this sentiment with a friend back then. Revisiting this 15-year-old conversation at the age of 31 did wonders. In that moment it became very clear to me that I am an asexual person; everything made sense. My first reaction was a sigh of relief, that said “oh now I don’t have to get physically intimate in a relationship or have sex. Phew!”

Besides being asexual, I also became aware that I do not experience romantic attraction the way I see it happening around me. I do not develop romantic interest unless there is a friendship or an already existing attachment/affection. Also, if I feel  a certain attraction, I do not necessarily want to be in a relationship or act on it. I have been on a dating app, but deleted it in 2 months because I got bored. This straight-jump-to-romantic setup made me uncomfortable. I thought that maybe I am scared or its unknown terrain, but I really did not want to meet anyone. I did not like the flirting. It has always made me uncomfortable and I know that it is not the butterflies in my stomach. It feels as if someone is jumping into my very private/personal space. I am not sure how to label it, but it’s somewhere between grey and demi romantic.

Also read: The Trials of Navigating Sex as a Demisexual Trans-Woman

Being an ace demiromantic person is not easy especially when sexual and romantic relationships are the norm. For me, it also reduces the possibility of being in a relationship or experiencing mutual attraction. It is not impossible but it has its challenges. The trickiest feeling is to grieve a loss of something you do not want in the first place. There are certain things I know I cannot experience in my life because my body does not want to and yet there are moments when I find myself in a whirlwind of sadness because of it. It’s been a complicated journey and continues to be so. But 3 years of therapy and a steady dialogue with myself has made me a firm believer that a romantic relationship is not the be-all and end-all of life. For me it’s not a pre-requisite to live a wholesome life.