dinosauriomutante:

Have you ever had the hugest platonic crush on someone

like…you just want to be with her/him all the time in a non-romantic way, share your stuff and be the bestest friends ever

but that person seems to have a lot of friends and you just sit there crying on the inside seeing that he/she doesn’t really need you as much as you need him/her

Hi my name is cupcake* and this is my life.

— #rape culture tw

metapianycist:

rattier:

this stuff on my dash is bringing up an interesting point, which is the fact that i think aromantics and asexuals are often victims of a particular form of rape culture, that says if you are sexually/romantically attracted to someone, that they should reciprocate or if they don’t, they should take it as a compliment rather than feeling uncomfortable and like they have had their boundaries crossed

and this is something i personally have been on the other side of and that i know every aro/ace friend of mine has been on the other side of. many times it’s turned around on the aro/ace person so that they are made to feel bad for their orientation, or like they’re “overreacting” for being triggered by someone having romantic/sexual attraction to them

and i feel like this is something that isn’t talked about a lot, and it should be

Trigger warning: rape threats.

This is an excellent post. I am one such person who feels very threatened by people expressing romantic or sexual attraction to me in any way but a joking way, regardless of the gender of the person expressing romantic or sexual interest in me. It may be partially because during high school when I was out as asexual, I received a lot of harassment from classmates about it that amounted to a willingness to sexually assault me.

Hey all, I’m posting this here, becuase it’s extremely relevant to me. It’s not because of abuse, I just don’t know how to handle it. So yeah, it’s something I think people should know about me.

(Source: makingnewblog)

ace-muslim:

adecentworld:

Alisexual (or any other such terms) doesn’t erase the differences between heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, etc.

It serves to make conversation about different experiences easier, to try to linguistically keep some people looking like the “normal” group and everyone else being “other”.

I wouldn’t even call it an “identity category”. It’s just a superordinate category, like how monosexual (which I see much less outrage about, for some very strange reason) groups together heterosexual and homosexual to help talk about monosexism and anti-bi/panness, but it seems very odd for someone to define themself as nothing but “monosexual”.

So yeah, I like the discussion around these sorts of terms.

Awhile ago, I wrote:

Since gay, lesbian, and bisexual people are all sexual in a recognized way (experiencing sexual attraction), it is possible for them to engage in acephobia and to be prejudiced against asexuals. This does not mean that asexuals are “more oppressed” than gay, lesbian, and bisexual people, or that gay, lesbian, and bisexual people are equally privileged to heterosexuals. It simply means that there are multiple ways in which heterosexuality is privileged and that some of these affect gay and lesbian people more, some affect bisexuals more, and some affect asexuals more.

That’s what we’re trying to get at with having a group term for non-asexuals.

— When I hear someone say “I don’t swing that way,” sometimes I want to say “I don’t swing at all, I prefer the slide”

I have legit used this before.

— It’s 2am and the house smells like cake…

gattackattack:

Perhaps I should learn to enjoy sweets more. Anyway!

Speaking of cake, meet the cake that “Bert” and “Ernie” got made into:

My roommate has A+ decorating skills.

I made cake.

— Missed Opportunity: Or, the Reality of Being an Extreme Minority

outlawroad:

So today, when I went to gym, one of the employees who swiped my card seemed to find me attractive. He gave me a big smile and I’m pretty sure later on, he was checking me out from a distance. He was actually pretty cute, and I rarely say that of anyone. Tall, broad-shouldered, clearly in good shape, nice face.

And it got me thinking about how different life is for me as a celibate asexual, than it would be if I were straight.

If I were an ordinary heterosexual woman and I found him attractive enough, that brief encounter with the guy could’ve been something. It could’ve led to a date or just sex. Hell, it could’ve even led to some ongoing romantic relationship.

Likewise, if he were asexual and there was some way for me to know that on sight, it might’ve turned into something. A new friendship at the very least, maybe something more involved.

Instead, like every time I interact with a stranger who finds me attractive, it involved me immediately sensing that in the other person and subsequently avoiding direct eye contact, saying as little as possible, etc. I obviously made no effort to invite him to find out who I am. There’s always some level of discomfort for me when I come into contact with somebody who’s clearly sexually attracted to me, and I have to assume the average male stranger who notices me in a public place is heterosexual because statistically, that is the likeliest thing.

I guess my point is that being a celibate asexual suddenly eliminates all of these social possibilities. If I were a heterosexual woman or even a queer woman, most of the world would be available to me for intimate relationships, for love, for sex, for affection, etc. As a celibate asexual, 99% of mankind is automatically off limits. Everywhere I go, I have to assume I’m the only person of my kind in the room, and that every stranger I meet or see is sexual, with a completely conventional view of human relationships, because realistically, most of them are.

I just can’t imagine being surrounded by opportunities for significant relationships everywhere I go. I can’t imagine even having the full list of people in any given dating website to choose from.

I rarely find anyone’s looks noteworthy, but this guy at the gym—while not impressive or breathtaking or anything—was certainly cute. I don’t even like the word cute, but I think he qualifies. Yet even if he’s good-looking enough to attract me aesthetically and even if he’s a wonderful human being with a personality perfectly compatible with mine, it doesn’t matter. None of that matters because he’s straight and I’m a celibate ace and there is only one conclusion to that combination: failure.

And I can’t help but wonder how many times in my life I’m going to have encounters like that: with somebody who, if I had been born sexual, I could’ve had some kind of connection or relationship with, but instead is no serious possibility for the sole reason that they want to fuck and I don’t. How many people could I have dated or fucked in college? How many people that I’ll meet by the time I turn 30 in eight years could I have dated or fucked if I were straight instead of a celibate ace? Hundreds? Thousands?

Then, I have to sort of wonder how I might meet the asexuals who are right for me. I have to assume that asexual visibility will improve over the course of my lifetime and that even ten years from now, when I’m in my early 30s, the scene will be a lot better for asexuals everywhere. More people come to identify as ace. Hopefully, there will be more websites, more meet-ups, more everything for us. I don’t really want to worry about meeting the right people for me—both because I won’t be devastated if I never do and because worrying doesn’t help—but I honestly have no idea how that’ll happen, if it’s going to happen. It’s not something I can make happen. I can’t go actively looking in the world, the way I could if I were sexually available. I can’t walk around with a sign that says “Celibate asexual looking for another celibate asexual to love!” I have very little control over how often I meet other aces, at this point in my life. And it’s something I have to make an effort to do. If I were a sexual person, the only effort I’d have to make is leaving my house. Or registering on a dating site.

And the other thing I have to think about is some people are asexual but don’t know it, some are asexual but they won’t come out to anyone, some are asexual and they won’t come out until they know a person really well. So it’s entirely possible that in life, I will meet other asexuals and never actually know that they’re ace because they won’t tell me and unless I’m given a specific reason to think otherwise, I’m going to assume they’re sexual people because a 99% majority is pretty damn dominant. How many lost opportunities will happen that way? (This is one reason why I myself aim to be pretty aggressively out.)

I’m not saying I envy the average romantic-sexual person for the abundance of relationship opportunities they have in life. I’m glad I have a built-in prevention mechanism to decades of conventional dating and conventional marriage because all of that shit is such a mess, I’m better off on a day to day basis not being involved. I guess what I am saying is: I’m a celibate asexual who does want serious, meaningful, intimate relationships, and the fulfillment of that desire rests pretty much entirely on the whims of fate and the Universe and whatever. All I can do is live my life and hope that someday, somehow, without any contrivance on my part whatsoever, I meet a celibate asexual man and an aromantic asexual woman who are not only compatible with me in the area of sexuality but compatible with me in every other way too.

Meanwhile, I live in a state of constant separation and disconnect from everyone around me because I am fundamentally different from them. Not only can I not form the sort of intimate relationships I desire with them, I can’t even talk to them about what I want or how I feel or how I experience love or how I view the world, because most of them don’t even know what the hell asexuality is, much less how someone can be a celibate asexual who wants serious relationships. They can’t sympathize with me, they can’t help me, they can’t relate to me at all. And I can’t relate to them. I’m “other” everywhere I go, whether strangers know it or not, and it’s weird to think about.

It’s also weird to know that this will never change. As long as I live. No matter where I am. How old I am. I’m part of a 1% minority. I’m part of an even smaller minority within that minority, an asexual who won’t have sex. I might as well be from another planet, another universe. That’s how far away I am from almost everyone else on earth.

I feel like this is even worse when you’re a celibate aromantic asexual. :/ There’s not even a possibility of romantic relationships there.

This really resonated with me.

tysephine:

Would anyone even be interested in a novel centered on an asexual?

I have so many ideas for this, but I wonder what the response would be.

YES I WOULD AND IF YOU’RE WRITING ONE WE SHOULD TALK BECAUSE THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I AM PLANNING ON ATTEMPTING DOING NEXT MONTH FOR CAMP NANOWRIMO AND I’LL NEED SOMEONE TO TALK ABOUT MY QP WRITING FEELS WITH.

seenewperspectives:

asexy-supporting-strangers:

This one had a person denying asexuality could exist, but the other person didn’t. I am going to burst with faith in humanity, but trigger warning for people who think aces are impossible and such.

Read More

Hey, I’m stranger 2!

I am leaving the tags because aawwwwww 

Yes I thought so!

Hahaha, I have the best friends EVAR. <3

I second that “Let me Love you!” GIF. :D

itomberlin:

i have had an epiphany

people get so tied up in the labeling of sexuality they are blinded to the truth.

the truth?
whom you like is just a preference. it’s not set in stone that you HAVE to be hetero/homo/a/pan/bi//anything-else-sexual.

so what if you like both genders, or the same, or the opposite, or none? it’s a preference, just like having long hair or short hair. or facial hair or clean cut. tall or short.

why force labels down each other’s throats when we can do something productive, like show all the confused teenagers out there that they are not alone. instead of telling them they can “only be homosexual since they have an inkling of feeling for one guy the he saw at the mall”.

Uhhh, I didn’t actually CHOOSE to be asexual. I mean, I’m comfortable with it, but I don’t choose it like I choose how long I want my hair to be.

No one shoved my label down my throat though. I identify as asexual because I feel that’s what best fits me. 

Let’s put it this way: I didn’t choose to be asexual because I prefer to not be attracted to anyone, BUT, I can prefer to have sex with girls, for instance.

Because orientation is define by attraction and behaviour is not attraction.