I don’t know if this is the right place to ask, but I’m totally lost. I am in my early 20s and have identified as asexual for about five years now. I’m very open with this identity, so most people I know are aware of this. But I’ve recently started dating someone new who I don’t think knew this, and, more confusingly, I actually think I am attracted to him in that way. So, for the first time, I want to sleep with someone, but I also think I need to talk to him about my ace-ness and that it doesn’t seem to apply to him, especially before someone else tells him, and he feels like I’ve lied to him. I just don’t know where to start or if this is important and, through all this, I’m just trying to tackle a new feeling for myself. Any advice?
Hi there, Art. You’ve absolutely come to a good place to get help with this.
You might already know that sexuality often shifts throughout life, and that it’s particularly common for it to shift around even more than usual when we’re younger, and still getting a basic sense of who we are as people, how we feel in our sexualities and bodies, and how we feel about other people. But just because orientation shifts are common sure doesn’t mean that they’re not confusing or surprising, nor that they’re simple to work through!
Before I say anything else, I want to say this: I don’t know that I’d leap to the notion that you’re not ace with this person, but are with everyone else. Not so quickly, anyway, and not just based on how you feel about one person.
I recently had lunch with a colleague who was talking about her passionate relationship with her partner, and how he cheekily describes himself as a Debra-sexual because she is where he feels his sexuality is most strongly oriented. I tell you this because often, when we are really into someone, especially when it’s new, we can all feel like more of a Debra-sexual (or a Mike-sexual, or a Ali-sexual, or whoever the object of our desire may be) than we might feel asexual, bisexual, heterosexual, or whatever overall sexual identity we generally most identify with or as.
If asexuality has been an identity that has felt like a good home for you so far, it may or may not be something you’re necessarily parting with when it comes to this person, so much as that may be experiencing your sexuality and/or your asexuality differently than you have up until now.
A new relationship can be destabilizing enough — even when it is the good kind of destabilizing! — and rethinking your whole sexual identity at the same time could be a lot for you to deal with at once.
Why not give yourself some time to really think about how you feel about this when it comes to who you are, rather than focusing on how it is in the company of one person? After all, your feelings for him don’t invalidate the whole of your sexual identity, especially since plenty of people on the ace spectrum discover there are some people they want to be sexual with or have desire for, or some circumstances in which they want sex with someone, not unlike plenty of straight people, for example, feel sexual attraction to someone (or even more than one someone) of a same or similar gender within a lifetime.
In the meantime, why not just tell him what you have told us here? You are someone who has identified as asexual for several years now — and you can tell him as much or as little about that journey as you like — but you are experiencing a kind of attraction to him you haven’t with anyone before, so this is something new for you to navigate and figure out. That also sets you both up for understanding that you’re new to this (he might be new to a partner like you, too!), and that you’re likely going to need and want some extra communication, maybe some extra time or support, as you figure out what you want here and what’s right for you, including whatever pace with this feels right for you as you experience these new feelings and wants, and maybe some new ways of being with someone.
In the meantime, you can, separate from him, think some more and process through those thoughts and feelings about your asexuality on whatever timeline you want for that. Your identity is, after all, separate from him: it’s mostly about you, more than it is about him or anyone else. You’ll want to think about all of what it means or has meant for you, what you’re looking for from it, if it still feels right for you; if maybe how you experience it has changed, or this set of feelings just feels like an exception, or if maybe this identity doesn’t fit you anymore and something different might feel better. All of that and more is the kind of thing that takes some time and is a lot easier to do when we don’t have to explain it all to someone else, or feel like we have to have a definitive answer for someone around it.
Your concern at the top here about worry he’ll think you lied to him suggests to me you feel pressure around this: I don’t see any reason to put any of that on yourself. Many people at 20 (and plenty at 30, 40 or older!) enter into relationships or sexual interactions without being sure of what their sexual orientation is, so anyone encountering a new partner in that space shouldn’t be too surprised. Not only have you not been dishonest with him, again, some ace people have sexual feelings for other people, so even the idea that this disqualifies you from being ace isn’t sound. You also don’t owe anyone disclosure about what your sexual identity is until and unless it’s something you want to share, and my hope is that there will be more of how you share this with him, rather than sharing because you’re trying to keep him from thinking you’ve lied, you know?
Lastly, I think coming to this relationship and how you deal with these new feelings from an ace perspective is probably also going to be the best way to go for you. For instance, as Mary Maxfield Brave said in this wonderful piece here:
Asexuality starts with different assumptions. It presumes the absence of desire – it centers sexuality at 0, rather than at a given but vague or unknown X-factor – and members of the ace community define within (or against) that assumption. Although in some cases, asexual individuals feel no interest in sexual or romantic activity of any kind, in other instances, they build on the “no desire” assumption to identify specific, complex webs of interest: I’m asexual but I masturbate. I’m asexual but I feel sexual interest in specific circumstances. I’m asexual but I like to kiss.
Employing these kinds of caveats adjusts “asexuality” to fit one’s specific experience of sex. The term becomes a blueprint for shaping an identity based on personal desire, rather than social scripts.
If you approach this from a place of knowing that sexual desire for someone has been rare for you, and may be something that doesn’t go or feel the way more allosexual (and less queer, to put a finer point on it, since after all, asexuality falls under the queer umbrella for good reasons) people might experience or frame it, I think you’re more likely to land on decisions with your sexual choices with this new relationship and your sexual identity that feel good for you than if you try and approach it outside that framework, which I suspect might be part of what’s got you feeling so lost. You can travel somewhere new in shoes you’re already wearing: you don’t have to try to break in new ones while also exploring unknown territory.
