Tag Archives: high school

No Sexual Orientation? It’s Possible: Asexuality

I actually feel some compassion for the LGBT community. It’s a dirty little secret of mine; my religion taught me it was an act condemnable by God, but what the LGBT community is going through socially does provoke me a bit- since I’m filling shoes similar to theirs.

I never understood why men were so obsessed with breasts (and being a 30A was no fun when I discovered this) or why my girlfriends swooned when they walked past a Calvin Klein billboard. What society called attractive looked the same to me as what society called ratchet- it all looked like people. When I heard that people had sexual fantasies about their crushes… something didn’t sound right.

Of course I have a crush. He’s been my best guy friend since 7th grade, and he reminds me of the things that I still haven’t realized I forgot about yet. He is such a genius and I could talk to him all day if my teachers let me (my biology teacher smartly placed us at opposite ends of the room). But… I never had a sexual fantasy about him. Or any of my crushes, for that matter. They were more of, “I’d like to get to know you more, be close to you…”

I was surfing the internet like a typical person armed with a computer since I was on a writing high (it’s when you found a muse and can write obsessively for days and even weeks). I discovered a website where people submit their secrets anonymously. I cracked up at some of them and was thought-provoked at others. Boom! I somehow landed at PostSecret’s Twitter feed, and there weren’t as many secrets as I wish there were. Every fourth or fifth Tweet was a secret, but in between them, there were news stories. One caught my eye: Asexuality.

It led to this website: http://www.asexuality.org/home/

After reading some info, asexuality is described as an orientation where a person doesn’t experience sexual attraction. No, not celibacy or abstinence were a person does have sexual attraction but chooses not to act on it until a certain time (usually marriage). The person can look at somebody and think, “Oh, she’s cute,” but not, “I want to hook up with her,” and have sexual fantasies.

There are different kinds of asexuals. An asexual is an asexual as long as the person doesn’t have sexual attraction upon first meeting someone.

The things you need to keep in mind about asexuals is there are people who are interested in a romantic connection and those who aren’t. Romantic connection as in getting to know someone, hugging, kissing, holding hands, yay! romance! But no sex. A sexual person can be a bit confused about asexuals since romance and sex are very, very intertwined in their lives.

Suppose you’re a straight man on an island. Or woman. Or whatever. You have your sexual orientation, but everybody else on the island has the contradictory sexual orientation. You’re straight, they’re gay. They’re gay, you’re straight. You’re bi, they’re asexual. Life sucks. You’re not interested in the other people’s way of sex. You want to have sex the way your sexual orientation asks for. You’re a straight dude on an island with gay men, the men are off hooking up, that sucks because you want a girl and you’re not interested in gay sex.

That’s kind of what it is in asexuals. Everyone is talking about sex, obsessing about sex, having sex, but you’re just not interested. This doesn’t mean you’re low libido. You’re still a straight dude on a gay man island (theoretically). You have a sex drive, you want to connect with someone. Asexuals want a different connection with people that isn’t sexual.

I advise you to check out the website for a shorter explanation about different kinds of asexuals, because while I can explain it, it will stretch out forever and AVEN (organization behind the website) just has a thing for keeping things short and sweet.

But some clicks happened to me when I visited the website. I was like, AHA! So that’s what it is. That’s why I never had a sexual fantasy about my crushes.

I called up my best friend who was openly bi. She must’ve known something about being different sexually, coming out, etc. I didn’t know if asexuality was exactly for me. I was a confused mess. I knew asexuality made sense to me, that it was something I experience on a daily basis, but at the same time, why me? It’s estimated that 1 in every 100 people in the UK are asexual. I’m in the US, but why me? I was becoming more and more unable to form a romantic relationship. Religious, vegetarian, having a personality type that only took 4% of the world, and now, what? Asexual? Who was going to put up with a meal dilemma 3 times a day and no sex?

I texted her, and at first, she didn’t understand. After some explanation, she told me it was a phase. That 15 was too young to know for sure, that I was a virgin and there was no way to tell until I tried, and so on.

I’m very disheartened. She talked to me about her sexual orientation being difficult, how people treated her differently, and so on. And she simply turned around and did the same thing to me. I wish people would be aware of asexuality and learn to accept it as a sexual orientation also. The LGBT community has considerable progress in this aspect, and the asexual community has much to learn from them.

After some late nights staying up and crying until the wee hours of the morning, after prayer, after a lot and a lot of research, I know I can’t deny being asexual, but I don’t know how I’m going to admit it in the first place to my loved ones. I don’t even know how people would respond, who should I tell and who I shouldn’t. How to explain, how to stay tough. But it’s progress I have to make. I might as well get it over now then face frustration later on because I let it slide under the mat.

I have a small plan. I want my family to know first before everyone else. So I came up with a fake story, and I’m going to present it the same way I tell my real stories to my mother. I always say, “Today at school, this person blah blah blah blah. Can you believe it?” She gives me her input and some life lesson, every day after coming home from school. Sometimes, on long car rides, she’d ask me, “And what happened to that girl that did such and such?” Maybe I could simply say, “This girl told me she was asexual. She says it’s blah blah blah. What do you think?” Maybe I could get her input from a safe distance.

Maybe I could present the story the same way to my friends. See their eyes, see their expressions. I’ll look at them, find them beautiful, but not sexually. Not that way.

The Complications of Having a Friend of the Opposite Sex

So let me tell you, I got some guy friends. And they make life awkward in general. Why? Just why? Because society makes it awkward. (This is written as if you’re a girl and you have a guy friend, but it goes both ways. Sort of.)

1. Everyone assumes you two are dating. Then you have to awkwardly say, “We’re just friends,” and pray to God that he doesn’t think you two are more.

2. But 9 times out of 10 he does. Everyone says they see it in his eyes when he talks to you. Apparently, eye color and a pupil aren’t the only things that can be seen in people’s eyes these days. Noooo. Eventually, though, you have to face the reality that usually, guys only hang around you because they have a slight hope that maybe one day, you’ll wake up, and realize that you’ve wanted him all this time.

3. But you don’t until you’re jealous. Until he begins to speak of another girl, or when you see him just casually chatting up some chick with frizzy hair, you suddenly start to realize, “Why is he talking to her? Uh oh. I know that laugh. SHE NEEDS TO QUIT MAKING HIM HAPPY! THAT’S WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO!” And then? And then you realize, “Wait… I want to make him happy?”

4. There’s always that touch barrier. You don’t have the same freedom to hug, hold, or say sweet nothings to him as you do with a friend of the same sex. Why? Because you don’t want to give him ideas. Because you don’t want to ruin the friendship, but there’s always that part of you that always wants to hug him and jump up and down when you’re excited.

5. You’re the weaker one. So you can’t play mercy, arm wrestle, football, or anything that’s kind of fun. You’ll pretty much lose unless you use your seductive powers (which, you’ll still technically lose.)

So that’s my list so far of why it’s complicated to have a guy friend. So my question of the day is: what do you think is complicated about having a friend of the opposite sex?

My First Two Days of Being A Freshmen

I’ll make a confession. I’m a freshmen this year, and it’s scary. Yeah, you adults might be rolling your eyes and going, “Shut up, you don’t have bills to pay, a boss to please, kids to raise, and laundry to wash.”

True. True. I’ll hand that to you, but a part of me really just wants to hit a fast-forward button because my first little impressions with teachers have been major flops. It’s so cringe-worthy I want to hide my head underneath my sweater like Junie B. Jones does when she has a “bad day,” with Mr. Scary. (Isn’t she supposed to be in college by now?)

I find my first period class and get on time. No issue there. The teacher goes over what lunch we’re supposed to be at, and I write down on my schedule that I’m supposed to have second lunch at one.

Second period I bomb. I sit in the wrong section of the gym with the wrong coach, so when I do finally find my coach, she purses her lips like she has something sour in her mouth. My mother makes that same face, especially when she runs into my dad’s (her ex) family at the store. Anywho, the coach tells us, “If you have any suggestions of what you would like to do in this class, feel free to say it.” Then there was that silence that breezed over the locker room, and I immediately felt chills crawl up my shoulders. Some girls began to suggest a couple of things to break the deafening silence (a stupid one said she wanted to walk because “it’s fun.”) and I blurt out, “What about yoga?” Coach’s response? “Do I look like a yoga instructor? No!” I shrugged my shoulders and kept my thoughts to myself. I mean, she said we were going to do Insanity. If we’re going to do something that vigorous, I’m assuming everyone’s up for some yoga. There are yoga classes in L.A. for toddlers! Anyone. Can. Do. Yoga. Then she mentioned P90X, which I did for a while with my sister to motivate her. I blurt out again, “Karate!” She made that sour face again. It made me think that she didn’t stick to the P90X program far enough to reach the karate DVD.

The class bursts into laughter at her sour face cue.

So I headed off to lunch, a bit bummed. I found my favorite guy friend and his accomplice (the accomplice is annoying, a tad evil, and can push more of my buttons than Katie Couric ever could on her keyboard. And somehow, I still kind of enjoy his company.) We sat in the corner. I spilt apple sauce on the accomplice by accident, which I still feel very guilty about.

The bell rings, and I dash off to World Geography Honors. The bell rings again, signaling that I’m tardy. I show up, and of course, a PowerPoint is running and everyone has miraculously found their seat in the two minutes I spent looking for the class. “I got a bit lost,” I said.
“You’re forty-five minutes late.” A classmate whispers to me after I scurry to a seat.
“What?!” I exclaimed. “I just came from lunch! You have to be joking!”
“We have second lunch,” He replied.
I closed my eyes in disbelief. I did not just skip half a class period. I went to first lunch when I should’ve headed for third period. So much for first impressions, and I wasn’t going to erase it anytime soon considering that I already fail at geography worse than Anthony Weiner does at covering up his chit-chats.
I scrambled out for air as soon as the bell rang for fourth period. I kept sensing the geography teacher’s blue eyes just lasering through me; I half-expecting him to extend his hand and throw me out of the classroom in such a manner that Darth Vader and Simon Cowell would approve of.

Fourth period went well. My stomach kept growling and my mouth kept yawning, and I was just so out of focus mode, that all I remember is that the teacher had a bad tan and her blonde hair and blue eye combination wasn’t helping.

The next day, (my school goes by block schedule. You have four classes every day, one hour and a half each.), I sat down in Geometry. I’m a bit guilty, but I thought my teacher was awfully young and kind of good-looking. He’s 29 and married. Crap. So THIS is how Jacob reacted when he realized he was marrying Rebecca’s older sister, not Rebecca herself. I LOOKED WRONG!
I, finally blessed by the idea of alphabetical seating arrangements, was assigned to sit next to my crush. I caught him looking at me once, and maybe the rest of the times were my imagination, but that kid wasn’t entirely paying attention at Mr. I’m 29 even though I look like I’m 18 years old. I don’t know if I liked it or I started getting fairly uncomfortable.
Okay. I liked it.
I ran away from the good-looking, 29-year-old, and married man and darted into Spanish 1 Honors. I never felt so bored in my life. It was like watching a thriller with your friend, but YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW IT ENDS. You have to sit there, though, and just watch you friend go, “Oh my god! What if it’s the grandfather that did it, Selma? Do you think it’s the grandfather?” And your head is screaming, “IT’S HER SISTER’S BOYFRIEND’S BROTHER THAT DID IT!”, but, to prevent your friend’s suspicion from you watching the movie before them, you say, “Right? I mean, he did say he did a lot of things he regrets in his life.”
Why did I feel like this? Because I ALREADY SPEAK SPANISH AT HOME. And the teacher obviously learned her Spanish in college. She had that influent accent to her Spanish. I was just cringing at the poor gringos that would have to learn the incorrect pronunciation to everything. I just have to sit in that class and wait for the foreign language director to hand me a Spanish placement test so I can get to where I need to be and graduate distinguished.
Which means I might have a schedule change. And then maybe I won’t have Mr. Good Looking 29-year-old and Mr. Starry Eyes in the same room at the same time. Very depressing thought, since I already have to leave Mr. Starry Eyes alone in Spanish 1 once I get my placement test. But I refuse to be that chick that hinders her future for a boy. No. No. No.
Then came the class I got ridiculed for taking: dance. I actually kind of enjoyed it. It was mostly filled with boys, surprisingly. A good third of that room were boys. I raised my eyebrows, since I was told this was going to be a “preppy girl class.” But I respect any boy for actually taking a class to learn how to properly dance with a girl and not step on her delicate little feet that are already blistering in five-inch heels. Kiddos to you.
Principle Health Science came next. It was relatively boring, and I was sat in the middle of two right-handed people. I feel really bad for the Junior next to me. I elbowed him a couple of times when I was writing (I’m left-handed.) I don’t know how he held down his Freshie insults from exploding onto me.

Now that I look back on my first two days of being a freshmen, my first day was awful. Awful awful awful. But, my second day was much of an improvement. I went to the correct lunch, I found my classes, and I didn’t hit on my good-looking 29-year-old Geometry teacher like many of the other girls resorted to. You should’ve seen their faces when he said he wasn’t 18, but 29, and had a daughter and a pregnant wife at home. I cracked up to myself, even though I fell under the same error. I never acted on it, though. Mr. Starry Eyes would probably then be Mr. Starry Eyes with Permanently Raised Eyebrows.

So tell me…. what was your experience on your first day of high school? (Trust me, I don’t judge.)