Being proud

June is nearly over, and with that Pride month comes to an end. I've only written one thing on it so far, and there are various reasons for that which I won't really get into. Evan Edinger recently released a video about Pride month talking about how he isn't proud of his sexuality because it isn't something that he's accomplished, much like how he isn't proud of his height. And while I understand what he's trying to say and do, I kinda disagree. People in the queer community are often the targets of hate and discrimination, much like all minorities, and we must stand up in the face of that hate. And the easiest way to stand up to hate, is to be proud of who you are. So, to Evan, I say this: we need to be proud of who we are, even if we're being proud of something we were born with.

There are a lot of times that I'm scared of being myself, but Pride always gives me a relatively safe space to be myself. I am proud of who I am, but life is a continuous journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance, and I haven't fully accepted all that I am yet. As a non-binary person, I'm not 100% certain how I want to express that, so it's not something that I showcase in my daily life, and possibly it's not something that those close to me even remember or think about. I know I've asked on my twitter for people to use gender neutral pronouns when referencing me, but I have no way of knowing if anyone actually does. It's not like I hear them talking about me to other people, so unless people outright tell me, I have no clue and I'm too 'scared' to ask. By scared, I just mean that I don't want to annoy people by asking them if they're using my preferred pronouns. Which is fucked up. It's my gender, I should be comfortable with asking people to use my pronouns, unless subconsciously I'm not comfortable with my own gender yet. But that's a whole other story for another day.

Pride is a time to be proud of who we are as the queer community. To be proud of everything that we have accomplished, and everything we have survived. It is my personal belief that we, as members of the queer community, should be proud of our sexualities and genders. We have to be, so that future generations can look at us, see all that we've overcame, and see that we can still smile.

Remember, none of us are ever alone. We are a community. We are a family. And we are proud.

A thought on Pride month

It's the seventh day of Pride month, and this is the first time I've mentioned it anywhere. It's not that I'm not proud, and I am planning on participating in it, I just haven't been in the right headspace. Every year during Pride month asexuality is seemingly disregarded by... well, everyone. And that gets so tiring. So many people still believe that the A stands for allies, and so many more don't think asexuality is even real. We, as aces, are constantly being told we're broken, or that we haven't met the right person yet. An asexual friend of mine was just dumped because she didn't want to have sex as often as her partner thought she should, and I wish that that was a rare occurrence, but it is so common. Instead of celebrating asexuality, the month of June usually just highlights the ignorance around it. 

Pride month is supposed to be about people of all genders and sexualities, but it has basically been co-opted by gay men. When you see images celebrating pride, they're happy gay couples or liberated gay men. Occasionally there will be a picture of a lesbian, but mostly pride is for gay men. I mean, the rest of society is for straight men, so why shouldn't pride be for the gay men? 

Obvious snark aside, many people in the queer community feel this way, and it's always a discussion this time of year. Last year, a middle-aged gay man wrote an article where he said all sexualities should just use the term "gay" because it would be easier for him. Listen buddy, that's not how any of this works, okay? I'm not gay, I'm asexual. Do I sometimes like people of my own gender? Sure, but I also like people of other genders, but never in a sexual way. Ergo, I am not gay. Guess I can't use that term. I'm asexual, and I'm sick of the queer community trying to erase me. It's already hard enough to accept being asexual in our hyper-sexual society without the rest of the queer community denying us. 

The pride events I usually go to are in the largest city in my province. A city of roughly 260 000. The first pride I went to there had zero asexual representation. The following year had several asexual people march in the parade, and the year after had a few more. It felt really good to see that representation grow. It felt like validation. Like I wasn't alone, and like I wasn't broken. The sad truth is that I still feel broken at times. I feel like I'm not enough, and that I never will be. I watch romantic movies or tv shows and every romance portrayed involves sex, and sexual attraction. Growing up seeing that, it's easy to understand why so many aces feel broken. Even most queer spaces have an emphasis on sexual relationships (bars and clubs), leaving many aces with nowhere to feel safe. No one's opened up a queer coffee shop (although they should, I would spend all my money there) for people to just hang out at, but every good size city has at least one gay bar. Again, because gay men are the most important part of the queer community. Gotta make sure they're happy, fuck everybody else (even the ones that don't like fucking). 

I want to celebrate Pride month. I want to be able to go to pride events and see asexual people both represented and accepted. I want that every day, but it especially hurts during pride. I'm asexual, and I'm proud of that. Always will be. No matter what. 

Trigger Warning: Buried lies, buried life.

This is my latest published article. It touches on depression and suicidal thoughts. If you are feeling depressed or suicidal, please talk to someone.  

As we age, we often look back upon our lives and wonder what could’ve been. If we had made better choices then would we be in a better place now? If I had gone left instead of right, if I had said yes instead of no, questions like that can haunt us.  

And maybe they should.  

Over the past two years, I have done a remarkable amount of soul-searching and self-discovery. In that time I came to terms with my sexuality, my gender, and my own mental health. I started to let go of the things that were holding me back. Past events that I kept hidden from everyone, including myself, that were stunting my personal growth. I would often lie about myself in the face of questions, and over time I came to believe my own lies. I lost myself. I buried myself is actually more accurate. I buried myself under the detritus of my lies, and I suffered for that.  

At the age of six, I decided to become religious. My parents did not force religion on me; they never made me go to church, or anything like that. It was my decision. The church, especially back then, was not accepting of people outside of gender norms, and of different sexualities. I was taught that it was a sin to be gay, and that gay marriage was wrong. And I believed it. For a long time. Whenever I had doubts or thoughts regarding my own sexuality I would bury it down. Whenever I did something (hug, cuddle, etc) with a guy, I would tell myself it was because of how secure I was in my own sexuality. Whenever I expressed interests in things that were “girly”, I would tell myself it was because of how masculine I was.  

I buried myself under the lies of my own making.  

I went to a bible college (one of the best in the country) that was actively against same-sex marriage, and routinely taught that homosexuality was not just a sin, but that it was simply wrong. I remember when another school backed out of a deal with mine over our stance on same-sex marriage, and our President painted the other school the villain, and I believed him. That homosexuality was wrong was ingrained in me. I didn’t even question it.  

The church disapproves of a lot, and it hides a lot. Members with mental health problems, be they anxiety, depression, or whatever, are told to pray more, or members of the congregation pray over them. If you were suffering from depression, you just obviously weren’t being a good Christian, so you hid it. You put a smile on, and you buried how you really felt so no one else could find out. This really fucked me up. Whenever I would feel down, I would just pray and pretend that everything was better. 

But it never was. It never got better.  

I kept things buried down, simmering out of sight, just waiting to explode. I would have outbursts of emotion: anger, fear, sadness, doubt. My self-worth and confidence became non-existent, and still I buried it down. I tried to keep it hidden from everyone. I didn’t want people to worry. I didn’t want to be shunned.  

This, of course, was extraordinarily bad for my mental health. I did end up on medication, which I hated for how it made me feel like I was empty. But the medication wasn’t my lowest point. That came in October of 2006.  

I was 16, still attending church where I was seen as a leader amongst the youth, and very active in the student council at my school. I wasn’t the most popular kid in school, but all the various cliques liked me. My days of being constantly bullied were behind me, and to the people looking in, my life seemed, well, good. The fact that every second was all out warfare in my mind was not evident to people. My feelings and problems were mine, dammit. I took in everyone’s problems, but never let anyone know mine. I had to be strong for everyone. That was my job, Jesus could take my burden, I would take everyone else’s. Unsurprisingly, this was not a good choice. I just became more and more depressed and worn out. I began to have suicidal thoughts. I wanted to escape, and I didn’t know how. I thought suicide was a legitimate option.  

So I decided to do it. I was home alone. I started cleaning before my parents left for a meeting, so I had music playing as I always did. Sometime after they left, I was ready. I won’t go into the details, they’re not important, but something happened that stayed my hand: a song started playing.  

The song was “Zero” by Hawk Nelson, and it’s about the affect that suicide has on everyone else. Words have always held power to me, and these words froze me in place. The lyrics washed over me, and I wept. At the end of the song, I collapsed and cried for a long time. Since that day, there have been many times when I’ve regretted not following through, but I have never acted on it again.  

This suicide attempt is one of the things I have kept buried. My depression is one of the things I have kept buried in. I didn’t want pity, I still don’t, but burying them down was not dealing with them. They are part of me. They, in a way, help to define me, and they allow me to relate. By pretending they didn’t exist within me, I was perpetrating the stigma that exists around mental health. Not only that, I was still damaging my own.  

I was, and am, so used to keeping things buried, that I didn’t give it a second thought. For years, I kept those thoughts buried down deep. 

I feel out of the church in my early twenties. I got so tired of the hypocrisy that I was seeing in its members. All these people claiming to serve god while they just served themselves, never mind the fact that felt that god had turned his back on me. For the first time since I was six, I didn’t know the direction of my life. I had gone to school to be a youth pastor for a church and a god that I no longer trusted. All that time and money I had invested became for naught. I was rudderless.  

It was around this time that the walls I had built began to crumble, and all my latent feelings and beliefs about gender and sexuality started bubbling forth. When I was religious I had assumed that my lack of sexual attraction to people stemmed from how awesome of a Christian I was. But I wasn’t a Christian anymore, and I still wasn’t being sexually attracted to people. I thought I was broken. So I buried it. Like I always did. Bad habits are hard to break.  

As I moved away from the church, more and more of my friends were queer, so I became immersed in that world. I read papers about it, I read articles, and I researched the history and the different aspects of it. In my studies, I stumbled across an article about asexuality. It intrigued me, so I read it. And it fit. Things made sense. I wasn’t broken, I was asexual. I was excited and I read everything I could find on it! I had the beginnings of a path in front of me; I just had to follow it! I was overjoyed. 

I think I told two people. 

I was still figuring it out; it was still new and personal. And I didn’t want to share. What if I was wrong? After all, things hadn’t worked out so well for me last time I thought things made sense. I guess I was mainly scared. Part of me still believed that not being straight was a sin, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t straight.  

With this new perspective, I looked back on my life: all the times cuddling with my male roommates, all the times flirting random guys in the city. Was it possible that, not only was I asexual, but also not heteroromantic? The answer was yes. As I researched more, as I dug into myself more, I discovered that I was more panromantic than hetero.  

But how I could come to terms with this? How could I let myself be honest, not just with myself, but with everyone?  

Unfortunately, I wasn’t done with the self-discoveries.  

As I reflected on my life trying to figure out what kind of man I was, I realized that I wasn’t a man. I wasn’t a woman either though, so this discovery left me more rattled than I was before. In the midst of discovering my sexuality, I began questioning my gender. My whole life I KNEW I was a man. That’s what everyone said I was. That’s what my biology told me. Now that fact was being called into question. Gender identities weren’t taught in high school and I went to a Christian college, so this wasn’t an area I had had much experience in.  

Thank goodness for Google. 

I found non-binary on a list of genders. It fit. It made sense. All the anomalous past events—those things that ‘normal’ guys don’t do—started making sense. Slowly, after decades of lying to myself, I was beginning to truly find myself.  

Looking back now at my past, there are parts I regret. I wish I had discovered my sexuality and gender at a younger age. Maybe I would’ve liked myself more. Some days I wish I had followed through with my suicide attempt, most days I don’t, but I’m more honest about my mental health now, and it’s getting better. It’s not something that will ever go away, but it’s become something that I can admit to and deal with in a healthy manner. I’m slowly becoming more open with people, and I am becoming more comfortable with my own skin. I still dress and act like a man on a daily basis; partly because it’s habit, partly because I’m still scared to be 100% me.  

As I sit here, looking back, I have regrets. We all do. I wish I had done things differently. I wish I had handled certain situations better, and I wish I had treated certain people better. But if anyone asks me if I would go back and change anything, I say no. Everything that has happened, all the bad, all the good, all the mistakes, they all brought me to where I am today. My experiences have made me the person that I am. And now that I’m actually being honest with myself, I’m starting to like that person.  

Another thing on #NationalComingOutDay

                I’ve come to the realization that I, a writer, have never actually put to words my coming out. I’ve spoken about in videos, and I have mentioned my sexuality in other posts and articles, but I have never actually written down my coming out. Since it is #NationalComingOutDay, and my pumpkin spice latte is empty, I thought that today would be a good day to do so.

                I am asexual, and my journey towards that discovery was long. I won’t bore you with that journey as this is the story of my coming out, and not of my entire life. I discovered asexuality through tumblr, also known as the modern encyclopedia, and I immediately felt a connection to the term. I dismissed that connection at first and scoffed at the very idea! By the next day I was reading every article I could find on the subject. With each article I read, things made more sense. After a few days of research and reflection, I came out to myself as asexual.

                I didn’t rush out and tell a bunch of people right away. I wanted to understand things first. After a while, I did tell a few close friends just so that I didn’t have to process it all by myself. Around this time of slowly coming out, I began to look at my gender identity as well. Was I male? Was I something else? I never had the opportunity to explore my gender before, and now, with my research into sexualities, I was able to explore the idea of gender. I was learning so much about myself, now that I actually allowed myself to question things!

                I slowly began to tell more people, and soon I was tired of just telling people individually; it was too time consuming. So I did what anyone from my generation would do: I tweeted about it. And posted on Facebook and Instagram.

                Soon I was getting messages of love and support from the friends that didn’t already know. It felt so good. Of course there were people who didn’t understand, but no one was outright rude or mean. I got the expected “so ur a plant lol” from some people, and a few asked me if I thought about what would happen to my “social standing” now that I was out. One person even asked me if my friends were worried that other people would think they were like me.

                Over all, my coming out was smooth. Most of the questions were polite and genuinely curious. Most of the comments were positive and supportive! It could’ve gone a lot worse, and I was scared that it would. But it didn’t. I took my time. I did it in a place where I felt comfortable, and at a time when I felt I was ready.

We're gonna be okay

                I’ve written about this before, but now seems like a good time to bring it up again. I, of course, am talking about the invisibility of asexuality and of aces themselves. Why now? I could be flippant and just say ‘why not’, but that’s not an honest answer. I’m bringing it up now because a main character on a successful Netflix original series has come out as asexual. BoJack Horseman, the show in question, had the character come out in its third season, which came out in July. I’m writing this to talk about the show, or give spoilers; the simple act of this happening is the reason behind the article. For those wondering, they handled it very well.

                This is a big win for representation, and helps with visibility. Is it enough? Well, no. But the only group on the planet with enough representation is the straight, white, male community. Thank god that base is covered, could you imagine if it wasn’t? All sarcasm aside, this is a good thing.

                For my newer readers (hi), a brief outline of asexuality:

·         It exists

Well, that was easy and brief! Okay, seriously though:

·         Asexuality is when one feels no sexual attraction to anyone

·         It exists on a spectrum where people can experience sexual attraction on very rare occurrences to where people never feel it

·         Asexual people are not broken, and do not have anything medically wrong with them

·         It is not caused by an imbalance in hormones

·         Asexuality does not reflect upon a person’s romantic attractions

·         An estimated 1% of the population identifies as asexual

·         The first recorded reference to asexuality was in 1896, and not on tumblr as some people like to say

·         Some asexual people enjoy sex, some don’t

·         Some asexual people masturbate, some don’t

In the end, asexual people, aces, are a varied group. The only thing all aces have in common is a lack of sexual attraction.

                That sounds super easy to understand. It’s to the point, it’s simple, and there isn’t any really big word in it! And yet asexuality remains one of the least understood and represented sexualities. With the lack of understanding comes the hate, because we all know the human race will automatically hate everything that it can’t understand!  Studies have been done that show aces are often viewed as less than human—even by others in the LGBTQIA+ community. These same studies have shown that the hate asexual people get can be far more extreme than the other sexualities, simply because we are viewed as lacking. All of my asexual friends who are open have received death threats and threats of rape. I’ve received death threats in the past, and I routinely get hate thrown my way. I know this hate is real.

                It doesn’t help that the media misrepresents asexuals as closeted freaks who just haven’t fully developed yet, or as people with mental issues. And then! Just when we think there’s a somewhat good representation, or if there is a hint of it, something bad happens to the character, or they get told that they just need to ‘get laid’. And of course, there are the countless times when asexuality has been confused with celibacy. I’m sorry, choosing to not have sex with people does not make you asexual, it merely makes you a person choosing to not have sex! Ridiculous, I know. One of the biggest examples of this is from the inexplicably still airing Big Bang Theory with their character of Sheldon. Sheldon, who may be asexual, in the early seasons is more focused on his work and his hobbies than having sex and all of his so-called friends mock him relentlessly for this, and take every opportunity to try and make him have sex. And then, because it’s a prime time sitcom and can’t have good and accurate representation, the writers of the show made the character get a girlfriend and become the person his friends had been trying to force him to become.

                Since I’ve come out, I’ve found this wonderful community to be a part of, where I was able to ask questions and grow. The people I have come to know have become like family to me, and some are now my closet friends and confidants. I have written so many words in so many different platforms about how the asexual community is a family, and it is something that I truly believe. In a world that wants to, at the very least, deny our existence, so many aces have remained positive and strong. So many have become these shining lights of positivity to the rest of the community. When the world continuously steps on us, and grinds us under foot, we remain strong. We do not give in and become bitter. We embrace the world, and we educate. We show the world that we are here, and that we are not broken.

                Whenever one of our community falls down, we help them up. Whenever one of our community breaks down in tears because of the words of their peers, we lift them up. I love this community. I love the people in it. I do not love the lies and untruths that people spread about it. I do not love the misrepresentations within the media.

This community is one that I am proud to be a part of. I am proud to be asexual, and I am proud of whatever good I have done for it. I know that some of my pieces have resonated strongly (several of them have been shared thousands of times), and I get messages from people on a regular basis thanking me, or telling me that I am doing good in the world.

I dunno guys, I think we’re gonna  be okay. 

Dear American Apparel,

                Every year around this time, a most magical and wonderful thing happens: the erasure of Asexuality hits full swing! The month of June, pride month, is a time for gays to celebrate being gay, and for allies to celebrate being decent straight people! No one else is important during this time of pride and celebration. Could you imagine what would happen if all the sexualities and genders got to celebrate pride month? The pandemonium it would create in the general public if they had to admit that there was more than just gay and straight? Heaven forbid!

                As a proud _______, I love this time of year! My sexuality, already forgotten about and misunderstood most of the time anyways, is thrown to the curb (more accurately: directly into on-coming traffic), to make way for the ALLIES. That’s what the A stands for anyways, not _______ as some people wrongly state. I can honestly say, those valiant allies deserve a month to celebrate the fact they’re straight and accepted by society! It must be so hard for them the rest of the year! God bless them, those selfless bastards.

                This is all in light of a most thoughtful line of products that American Apparel has released for Pride month. On one particularly cute bag they list: Lesbian/Gay/Bi/Transgender/Queer/Ally. Ah, ally. The most important of all sexualities: the straight ally. If it weren’t for those straight people, none of this would be happening (take however you want)! As an _______, I’m glad ally got put on the bag. They deserve the recognition. And when American Apparel said that they honour the sacrifices and dedication of the brave allies, my heart melted a little. Me too American Apparel, me too. ________ face erasure everyday of their lives, why should/would Pride month be any different! It shouldn’t! Pride should be about celebrating two groups: gay people, and their straight allies. After all, they are the important ones!

                For those you can’t read sarcasm, everything before this was incredible satirical and sarcastic. As an asexual, I am beyond mere frustration and anger when it comes to stuff like this. Most of society doesn’t recognize asexuality, let alone understand it! And then Pride month comes along, and shit like this happens. The month started with a jackass saying everyone should just be called gay, because that made it easier for him, a gay man. Asexual people have been fighting for recognition and respect for as long as the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community! Studies have shown that asexual people get treated worse than other sexualities, and Pride month is always a shining example of that! GLAAD ran a program last year to promote allies and they went as far as saying “A is for Ally!” in their slogan! They at least apologized. American Apparel released a short statement as an apology that basically said this: “Hey, I get your upset. It’s totally cool, I would be too. But allies are just more important than other queer people. Sorry bro.” Ya know what? I’ve said my sarcastic piece. I’ve said this. I only have one more thing to say: Fuck you American Apparel, you’re trash, and your trash (their products) is terrible.

                I lied. I have one more thing: The A stands for Asexual/Aromantic/Agender, not allies. Please accept us, and let us be seen. To my family within the community, I love each and every one of you. You are so valid, and so real! My heart breaks at times like these. Stay strong. 

The Perils of Coming Out

      Let's talk about coming out. I'm not telling you my coming out story again, I mean let's talk about the emotions and reservations, and fears and hopes that people have with their coming out. Because there is a lot of stuff going on behind the scenes with coming out. There's a lot that doesn't necessarily get talked about. So, let's talk about it.
      Coming out is an emotional experience, no matter how it is received by the people around you. If the reaction is positive, you're on cloud nine! You're feeling the love that is surrounding you, and you're getting beautiful messages of support. If the reaction is negative, the feelings become mixed. You're feeling free because you get to be yourself now! but at the same time, you're wondering if you should've waited because now people aren't talking to you, your family could hate you now, and you could be genuinely frightened for your life. All those negative feelings are magnified if you come out as a teen. You've got your classmates to worry about, teachers to worry about, family, friends, society. And if you live in certain parts of the world, families are legally allowed to disown you, forcing you onto the street. There is a frightening statistic out of the States, that 25% of homeless youth there are queer, and the majority of that 25% are homeless because they came out to their parents/guardians and got kicked out.
       As a queer person, thinking about coming out, you know all the horror stories. You have friends who came out to a negative response. You know the numbers of queer people with depression and suicidal thoughts. You know the community faces persecution from almost all sectors of society. You know that the persecution doesn't just come from religious fundamentalists, but that it can come from everyone no matter what they believe. And you know that no matter what country you live in, you can face hatred and violence for just being the person you were born as.
      So why come out? What makes the risks worth it?
      The freedom. As a queer person, we've learned to lie to everyone around us. We've learned to hide our true nature. We wear so many different masks on a given day, that we can lose ourselves, and we do this just to stay safe. Coming out allows us to take these masks off. It allows us to be ourselves all of the time, instead of just in our homes and with close friends. We look at all of the risks, we know that they could happen to us, but we know what we get when we finally come out: freedom to be true to ourselves. Groups throughout history have fought for freedom time and time again. People have sacrificed their lives for freedom. People willingly die for a chance to be free. And that's why we come out, even in the face of hardship, pain, banishment, and death. We come out for freedom.
       Even with knowing why we're doing it, it's still a scary thing. It can take days to build up the courage to tell that first person, even after deciding that it is time. For me, I told people through text because I was too scared to come out in person in case the person reacted negatively. I talk about it in my vlogs a lot, but again that's not really in person. I can't have a conversation about it in real time. I'm in this weird limbo with my coming out, I'm out in the most public way possible (hello YouTube and blogs), yet I have no idea if the people I see everyday have any idea that I'm not straight. So I'm out, openly, but do people actually know? Because of this ambiguity I'm still living like I'm half in the closet. I'm out, but. I've got my freedom, but. I still get uncomfortable speaking to people face to face about it, because with each new person the fears become fresh and relevant again.
       Coming out is a daunting prospect, and it's something that we shouldn't really need to worry about anymore, but it seems like it's becoming something that we need to worry more and more about with each passing year. I mean, North Carolina just passed possibly the most homophobic and transphobic law in modern times! And NC is in the country that literally prides itself on freedom! Instead of being something that you can feel comfortable with, coming out has become something you need to think about and plan. You need to time it. You have to be careful with it. And most importantly, you have to feel safe about it. Which sounds ridiculous! We need to feel safe to tell someone that we life a different gender(s/no gender) than what is societally expected of us!
        Straight people, even allies, can never fully understand how daunting it is to come out. They've never had to worry about it, because they're straight, and religions and culture constantly tell the world that being straight is right. Being something other than straight is just wrong and something to be fixed. That's why gay conversion therapies still exist, even in Canada.
       But, god, it feels so good when you finally come out. When you finally can be honest. That freedom feels so good, even when it paints a target on your back. Being able to walk out your front door, 100% you, is an amazing feeling. And that's why coming out is worth the risk. A life hiding, is not a real life at all.    

Discrimination and Asexuality

Being asexual can be tough sometimes. Okay, it can be tough most of the time, lets be honest. We're a minority inside of a minority group. The LGBTQIA+ have been fighting to be accepted for decades, but members within that community often belittle or completely deny the existence of asexuals. We're told that we aren't "gay" enough, that we're "pretty much straight", and that we're just special little snowflakes. It's hard enough as an asexual person to live in this sex-driven society, without the added discrimination from the people who should be family. Yes, I realize there are a lot of people who support us within the queer community, and not everyone denies our existence. Please don't come to me saying that. Obviously I know this.

The sad reality is that people simply can't wrap their minds around asexuality. Asexuality should be one of the easiest sexualities to understand! But it's not. In a sex-driven, sex-filled society, we are the ones who aren't driven by sexual desires and attractions. Mainstream culture boils relationships down to sex, whereas asexual people see relationships as...well, relationships. I have friends within the community who struggle every single day with being asexual because the people around them label them as broken. "Not being sexually attracted to people is wrong." "God wants you to have sexual attraction." "How are you ever going to find a partner?" "You must be pretty fucked up in the head." "That's just a tumblr sexuality, it's not real." And my personal favourite [sarcasm heavily implied], "Five minutes with me and I'll fix that." First off, five minutes is nothing to be boasting about. Second off, fuck off. (sure hope my parents don't read this one) Third off, research into asexuality has been going on since 1896, and as we all know, tumblr didn't come online until 1899 at the earliest.

A lot of people would assume that asexual people are just overly dramatic and sensitive, surely the rest of the queer community has it much worse! But that's not the case. Brock University ran two studies in 2012, one with students, and one with non-students from different countries. These are their results from the study:

We provide evidence that antiasexual bias is a form of sexual minority prejudice, that those prone to prejudice are more prone to antiasexual bias, and that asexuals are targets of dehumanization, avoidance, and discrimination intentions. Further, we demonstrate that bias toward asexuals is either equivalent to, or even more extreme, than bias toward homosexuals and bisexuals. ... Asexuals are the sexual minority that is most clearly considered “deficient” by heterosexuals. ... Although antiasexual bias is a clear component of sexual minority prejudice, it is also unique in that it was repeatedly stronger than bias toward other sexual minorities. Most disturbingly, asexuals are viewed as less human, especially lacking in terms of human nature. This confirms that sexual desire is considered a key component of human nature, and those lacking it are viewed as relatively deficient, less human, and disliked. It appears that asexuals do not “fit” the typical definition of human and as such are viewed as less human or even nonhuman, rendering them an extreme sexual orientation outgroup and very strong targets of bias. [emphasis mine]

That’s hard to read. I got emotional reading it. I have friends that have had to deal with all of that. I’ve dealt with a small amount of it. Recently, a fellow asexual youtuber, Amelia Ace, got attacked in the comments of one of her recent videos with people making comments exactly as the study described.

                It breaks my hearts, seeing this every single day. Having my friends hurt every single day because they’re slowly starting to believe the hate that is levelled against them. Friends who have given up any hope of having a romantic relationship, because our society tells them that sex is a key component to romantic relationships. I have friends who have given up on the idea that they can be happy, simply because they’re asexual and the world tells us we’re broken.

                But we are not broken. There is nothing wrong with us. Society needs to change, not us. Society needs to accept us and embrace us. We are whole, and we are beautiful. Fuck the haters. Fuck the people who tell us we are less than them. Fuck anyone who tries to knock us down into the muck. Every time someone tries to knock us down, we will get right back up. We are stronger than their hate. We have each other. We have the support of our asexual family. Because that’s what we are, we’re more than just a community. We are family.

                According to society we are impossible, so I’m going to end with a quote from Firefly: We've done the impossible, and that makes us mighty. 

For more disturbing things the asexual family deals with, please see this article.

Progress for progress sake

    I started working on the body of my article today. I've got it planned out, and quotes chosen, and now it's time to get to work! I'm starting with two less interviews than I planned, and one less than I would like, but my deadline is coming up, and I need to get it done. It's been awhile since I've worked with a word count, it's going to take some extreme editing to keep it around my mark and not wildly over. Contrary to these blog posts, I can be relatively long winded... You're all surprised, I'm sure. Shocked even.
    I showed a friend of mine what I have so far, and she's hooked and excited to read the rest of it! And because of my ego, I'm not going to let anyone else read it in case they tell me it sucks. Other than my editor, because she has to read it before it's published... Maybe I can work out a system where I'm the writer and the editor, and the publishers okay with it. Alas, such a system does not exist and probably should never actually be a thing.
      As I'm working on this article there are a ton of conflicting feelings going through me. I've never been this stressed about something I've written, and I've never been this excited about something that I'm writing! One of my biggest dreams could come true because of this article! And that is so exciting! And one of my biggest dreams could crash and burn because of this article, and that is so stressful.
    I know I have the support of a lot of people, and not just those closest to me! I know the people whom I have interviewed are backing me up to. They want their stories told, they think that it can help people, and they are trusting me to get it out there. It's an incredible feeling.

A positive reflection on 2015

    This had a lot downs, so I'm gonna talk about the good stuff here.
    My aunt flew me out to Vancouver for two weeks this summer, which was something I desperately needed. To see the mountains again, to be in them again, to see the ocean, to smell the salt and feel it on my skin. It was home. I felt at home. I got to hang out with my cousins that I hadn't seen in over a decade, and catch up with them on what how their lives have turned out. It was wonderful. Straight up. It was so needed. I felt recharged and energized. Leaving was hard. Everyone was in tears, not just me.
     I came out this year. To friends, to family, and publicly. And also to myself. This year has been a year of self-exploration and acceptance. I've accepted who I am, and have stepped up to publicly discuss it, and bring social awareness to it. I've put myself in the public eye to help people. Not to help myself (believe me, it has not helped me in any financial way), but to help others and to let those like me know they have support and love. Coming out was a frightening experience. It took a lot of thought and strength to do it. I am glad that I have. It's allowed to help more people, and to be more honest about myself and with myself.
      I started actually putting effort into my memoir. Like, actually time and planning into how the book will come out. And I've actively been shopping it, and myself, to agents and publishers. I've had some refusals, but I also got asked to join the writing team of Manitoba's largest LGBTQIA+ magazine, OutWords. That's one of my biggest personal accomplishments, and I am still freaking out about it. So much is riding on my first article, that I am in the process of writing. Literally a dream come true.
      Last, and most definitely not least, all of the people who have come into my life this year. This is easily the biggest and most important event (???) to transpire this year. I've met so many amazing people within the asexual community, and outside of it, who have encouraged me and supported me. Who have urged me on to do bigger and better things, and who have been beside me in my struggles and dark times. Each of you, and I'm debating naming you, are amazing people, and I am so blessed to have had you enter my life when you did. I kinda talked about you all in my Global Family post (http://zakitudeblogs.blogspot.ca/2015/12/global-family.html), but y'all are so awesome I gotta mention you again! Thank you for lighting up my year. Thank you for becoming family. And thank you for your love and support. I honestly love you guys, even when I don't say it.
     A nice quick run through of the major good stuff that happened this year! For some reason this took two days to write... I don't even know why. 

More than a Sexuality

     I've come to the realization that my blog views are wildly inconsistent. Like, all over the board. From several hundred in a short time, to maybe a dozen over a week. That's so crazy. I'm writing all of them, I try and put the same amount of effort into them, but still the inconsistency.

     I blame it on the communists. 

     I'm kidding Russia! I don't blame you!

    The posts with the most views are always my ones about asexuality, which I am so happy about! I've written posts on it that have been read by thousands of people! That's my goal! Get the word out there, show the world we exist. At the same time however, I am more than just my sexuality. I don't want to capitalize on just one aspect of my life. I want to showcase all my individual facets. I only wish my "ordinary" posts would receive as much attention. 

     I got sidetracked by my phone and I have lost my train of thought. Drat. 

     I love who I am. I love the community that I am a part of because of my sexuality. I love writing about it and answering people's questions. But I also love science fiction, fantasy, film and television, video games, board games, the outdoors, animals! But whenever I write about those things, no one cares (a slight exaggeration, people are still reading them). I just wish that I could write a post about one of my other passions that would take fire as quickly as my ones on asexuality. 

     I feel oddly guilty at the thought of only writing about sexuality, like I'm selling part of myself out just to gain readership!

    I want to bring awareness, I want bring it into the public spectrum, but it's not everything that I am. I feel like all activists feel this way at some point or another. Anytime someone is fighting for something there is that worry that it will become their whole identity. The world will associate them with their cause and not anything else. Kinda like an actor being typecast, but on a more fundamental level. 

    I want to be known as myself, not my cause. I'm okay with people knowing who I am because of my cause, but they need to know that I am more than that.

    This is all a little confusing, but it's just kinda where my head is at right now, Tomorrow's blog will be different, a little more focused.

    I'm asexual, but I am more than my sexuality.