I’m lying in the living room working on customizing my new blog while Gavri’el gets ready to meet a friend. It takes her a lot longer to get ready than I would; in addition to having to add extra make-up and padding to her bra and what-not, she actually enjoys the process of getting ready to go out. Me, I would rather throw on the clothes I wore yesterday if they’re not too dirty and maybe run a brush through my hair a couple times before heading out the door.
I am exhausted. Yesterday I went out with a guy who sounded on paper (or at least, on my OKCupid profile) like he might be exactly what I was looking for. However, he was…not, to put it succinctly. Instead of the self-confident, musically inclined, intelligent traveler with a feminine side, I got an uber-masculine pot smoker who didn’t understand why I would wear make-up with guys’ clothes and talked incessantly about cars: how to fix them and which ones sucked. He also insisted on the conversation I hate having with people.
“So,” he said, when we were sitting at the movie theatre waiting for the movie to begin, “what’s an asexual?”
“Someone who doesn’t have a sex drive,” I said, not wanting to go into the full explanation. It’s more accurate to say I don’t have any sexual DESIRE. I am not attracted sexually to either gender, just romantically. I may think someone’s hot, but the thought never leads to any desire to do anything with the person of a sexual nature.
“Oh,” he said. “How do you manage that?”
“How do you manage having one?” I replied, without skipping a beat. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I should have just explained more. But I get so sick of explaining that asexuality is not a choice any more than any other sexual orientation is. It’s not as if I decided to not have a sex drive today. I just have never had one. It’s not due to hormones or being sexually abused as a child or having dated the wrong people.
While I was thinking all this, he asked me if I had ever had an orgasm.
If someone had asked Gavri’el a question like this, I would have told her to tell the person it was none of hir damn business. We are both learning not to answer invasive questions. People always seem to be curious about whether I COULD experience sex if I wanted or what sex organs a transgender woman like Gavri’el has. (Neither of us is answering these questions so don’t bother asking them if you comment.) I totally forgot to stand up for myself, though. I’d had a whole day of conversations that did nothing but convince me that this wasn’t the right person for me. So I answered the question while using the fact that it was asked as more evidence that I needed this date to end.
It didn’t really hit me until this morning that I was disappointed. Last night I came home, talked to Gavri’el, went out to supper. This morning I woke up feeling like I wanted to cry. It’s the same old feelings I’ve had forever. Will I find anybody? Does what I’m looking for even exist? Is it possible for an asexual, gender-neutral woman to find a gender-neutral man or transgender woman, besides the one she lives with, who she is related to?
Gavri’el is standing in front of the mirror putting on a belt and trying to decide how feminine to dress. I watch her pull the brown belt through its loops, wondering why this all has to be so stressful. The point of dating or going out with friends is supposed to be to have fun. I just spent a week stressing and feeling nervous because I wasn’t sure the guy I was seeing would like me, only to find that I didn’t like him.
I sit on the floor thinking about this, as usual sitting on my right foot instead of with my legs out in front of me. My foot begins to tingle. I stretch out to get some feeling back into it. Tonight while Gavri’el is out, I’d better work on some freelance articles. If I don’t make enough money to pay my bills, trying to find a soulmate is pointless.
If I have time, maybe I’ll get on OKCupid and search for other possible compatible people. One bad date will not ruin my optimism.