I Don’t Need a Love Story
I remember every ‘girl talk’, every changing-room gossip, every late-night sleepover giggle, where all anyone could talk about was how cute they found this guy, who was the celebrity crush they were destined to end up with, and who likes who. And all I could do was sit in silence, not understanding a word, because I had never felt like that. When they pushed me to open up, insisting that I must have a crush, or I was hiding it. I felt compelled to lie or make someone up, or choose a random ‘acceptable person’. Everyone around me seemed to be in love with being in love: falling too fast for flirty fools, head over heels at hello, or claiming ‘love at first sight’. It made no sense to me.
I never got butterflies. I never had a celebrity crush. I never felt flustered and nervous, with clammy hands and longing looks at someone I liked. I never met a boy or girl that I immediately wanted to hold hands with, smile sheepishly at, and go out on a first date that goes horribly wrong, only to kiss on the doorstep when they leave. Love and attraction like that were alien to me.
I had a few mini ‘crushes’, but nothing lasted. I was constantly thinking: “Everyone talks about liking people because of [insert feature here], so the admiration I feel for someone because of [insert personality trait here] must be a crush! It must be a crush because everyone has them. Right?”
Spoiler alert: it was not. Each ‘crush’ faded, as I had mistaken awe and platonic love for romantic desire. Why? Because that was what I was ‘supposed to feel’.
I felt like an outsider, a monster. I believed I was broken for a long time. Looking at everyone else feeling things I couldn’t seem to grasp, and then being told to strive for it, to seek out and find it, or my future would be miserable. And lonely. And wrong. For the rest of my life.
You can imagine how those feelings only intensified when hormones kicked in as teenagers and sex became the new obsession.
It took a long time to come to terms with and accept the idea that maybe one day I would like someone, but it would be okay if it took years or even if that day never came. I accepted I was ‘wrong’ and ‘broken’, that I wouldn’t change, and made peace with being alone.
Then, someone shattered my worldview. A teenage girl, this bisexual stranger (who has since become my infuriating older brother) with a brilliant girlfriend, barged into my life, showed me the world of LGBTQIA+, and dropped a metaphorical bomb on me. In one text, one link, two days into knowing me, he handed me the answer to a puzzle I thought was just broken pieces. A page of definitions within the asexual spectrum, where I found:
Demisexual/romantic: Someone who only experiences sexual/romantic feelings after a strong emotional connection has been made. The requirements of how strong that connection is all up to the individual.
Suddenly, I made sense. There was a word that meant me. I burst into tears, because I was not alone, not a monster, not wrong. I was different, but still deserving of love however I wanted it.
For those that say “Everyone is like that, stop trying to be special,” insist this is a religious thing, that I’m a prude, or scared: I’m not. Your emotional timescale is different to mine, and I do not owe anyone sexual or romantic feelings before I am ready for them.
Some people feel attraction, sexual or otherwise, without knowing each other — chance meetings, love at first sight (or sex), crushing on the ‘hot barista’ who got your name wrong… again. I am not one of those people. Random hook-ups, blind dates and swiping through dating apps are not something I could do. Good on you if you can, though.
It has taken a long time to learn, understand and accept myself for who and how I love. I have gone from feeling broken, an outsider in a world where I am wrong and destined to be alone, to having pride and acceptance in myself in a way I never could have dreamed of.
I am not a monster who cannot love, but someone that falls in love slowly.
I am not broken, but a differently shaped puzzle.
I am not wrong; I am another right.
