Thoughts on asexuality

I´m really at a loss how to start this post. I´m not even sure if I should write it. I could as well write it all down in my private, personal diary, because that´s probably where it really belongs. Not onto a public blog. It´s not like I want to talk about anything “dirty”. I want to talk about the opposite of “dirty”. I want to talk about asexuality.

I feel resigned even trying to talk about it. Bringing up a subject like this is bound to evoke disbelief. “What, you think you´re holier than others?” You see, I´m wondering if the concept of asexuality might somehow apply to me, and still I have all sorts of negative reactions when I think about it. The images I connect with this (completely erroneously, as a short look into a major forum will demonstrate) are as follows: 1) Moral snobbery, holier-than-thou attitude. 2) Religious fanatics, or purity fanatics. 3) People who are opposed to any kind of sensual pleasure, militant ascetics. 4) Desperate people who are unable to have sex due to some psychological condition or physical unattractiveness and now try to make a virtue out of a necessity by denying that they even want sex (translate: “losers”). 5) Selfish women who wear pretty clothes and get dressed up and flirt, but don´t “fulfill what they promised”. Basically, women who use asexuality as an excuse for being a tease. (I would like to add that I don´t think women have any obligation to sleep with a man just because they were wearing make-up and flirted with the guy! I´m only describing my irrational feelings and worries here!)
You see, it would make a lot of sense if I identified as asexual. I do not feel any more desire to sleep with a man than with age 12. I don´t enjoy being explicitly sexually stimulated by others. I don´t lust after people. I find it very hard to express my attraction towards others (because I do have crushes or something similar), because I never know what exactly it is that I want from them. I know what it is not, however. Sexual interactions.
The thought of defining myself as asexual, though, even without making it public, gets me into a real inner conflict. I know that asexuality is an orientation and celibacy is a choice, but I still feel like by defining myself as asexual I´d sign up for a life of celibacy. I feel like I´d lose my credibility as soon as I enjoyed any normal physical contact (as opposed to the masochistic stuff I´m into). But why is it so important to me to credibly deny that I have any sexual feelings and desires? Or rather: Why do I feel so threatened by the insinuation that I could want to be touched in (explicitly) sexual ways?
“I feel like it would pull me down onto somebody else´s level.” This is the first sentence that came to my mind. I think it requires some explanation, lest every sex-positive reader feels I disregard him/her. The level I mean is not sex in general. Naturally, I only have various images of sex, and not one big picture of  “sex in general”. But my attitude towards “sex in general” is that consenting adults can do what they want to each other as long as they don´t harass me with their activities, and that no sexual or non-sexual activity is by default superior. So what I mean is not that people who have sex reside on some lower level than those who don´t.
I also don´t mean that sex is somewhat animalistic. Nothing wrong with animals. Besides, whenever I imagine sexual encounters (which I do), these encounters are quite brutish and violent (though, believe it or not, consensually violent).
So what I really connect with the idea that I, too, could be turned on by sexual stimulation, is some kind of sleazy camaraderie, the type displayed by a person who – sorry to be this blunt – rubs your clitoris and nods knowingly at your reactions (a normal person´s reactions, not mine, I´d play dead), grins in a disgustingly intimate fashion and says: “Oh yeah, I know, that gets you all hot and bothered, doesn´t it?”  You know, this trace of disdain in his voice, that shows you he´s not taking you seriously at all, nor he is in any way emotionally involved in the situation. Making a woman orgasm just makes him feel macho. Like: “Women are so predictable. One just needs to know which button to push. But it´s kind of endearing, isn´t it? How emotional they get when you make them come?” It´s not pure, cold, icy disdain, there is this disgusting, patronizing “good intention” mixed into it. They want to make you feel “real good”. Be “nice” to you. This is what creates this disturbing, degrading godawfully sleazy intimacy and camaraderie which makes the idea so unbearable!
So this is what, in some muddy corner of my psyche, I associate with being sexually turned on: Being vulnerable to a patronizing, humiliating exploitation of your natural reactions. And if I defined myself as asexual, however accurate that might be, one purpose would be to avoid having to look at myself with that disgusting, knowing grin. It would be a way of dealing with my personal problem with the idea of sexuality, or the idea of me having a sexuality of my own.
Wow. That is the key. Of my own. In this icky scenario above, my sexuality does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who operates it. So, defining myself as asexual feels like a way to take back my sexuality. Also in other ways. I don´t have to define myself as a “loser” anymore. I don´t have to feel fundamentally deficient anymore. And I can put up definite boundaries. Like a heterosexual man can rightfully claim that he is not interested in gays.  I can just say: “There is no persuading or seducing me – I won´t have sex with you. I´m asexual, end of discussion.” Because I have a lot of trouble putting up boundaries. Those are different stories, though.
And yet these are all the wrong reasons. Good reasons are the ones I mentioned somewhere above, like me not responding to sexual touch. Or me feeling deep sensual and emotional pleasure at the thought of being smashed to death by an apocalyptic meteor-induced tidal wave; at an age where my best friend was getting her kicks from fancying a boy she had never even talked to before (aka the typical love life of a teenager). Yes, I was weird in my early teens. In my later teens, I was clinically weird.
Why are these reasons bad? Because putting up an impenetrable facade (no pun intended) doesn´t teach me to truly defend my boundaries. It doesn´t change a thing about how angry and degraded I feel at the thought of having sexual responses. It doesn´t change a thing about the fact that I´m wondering if I´m missing out on something, and that I´m frustrated with the disparity between the feelings I get from fantasizing and those I can obtain by realizing said fantasies – especially when the fantasies aren´t sexual.
In trying to obtain satisfying or at least pleasurable physical experiences, though, which admittedly is a goal of mine, it might be quite useful to focus on the sensual more than on the sexual. Forcing myself to understand myself as sexual, just because I might have some wrong reasons for understanding myself as asexual, is really taking the concept of masochism too far, you know?^^
Well, more on that topic (maybe) when I´ve had a good night´s sleep, sorted out my life (still not getting anywhere with my essays) and won the Nobel Peace Price (or in this case the Nobel Sleaze Price?).  Okay, I´m really overtired.
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