Demi-Sexual

Sexuality and discovering who you are can take longer for some than others. I was late to puberty, late to growing breasts, and late to my period. It got to a point where I thought I'd never become a woman. I almost forgot about this cycle of pain that would someday inflict me. I was sorely reminded of this eventuality a month before my 16th birthday. I never had any interest in boys and was bewildered by other girls who spoke of them frequently with such enthusiasm. I preferred the company of boys, mainly my cousins who I felt I could be myself around. As a pre-teen, it became very obvious to me that I could not be myself around boys outside of my family. There were standards I had to adhere to. Men became creepy and boys became over-excitable. Both men and boys became intimidating. I didn't understand any of it, but I was to learn.

I had, as many do, a turbulent childhood. They say that more than two moves as a child can cause issues, and the only consistency I had was our constant moving. I moved boroughs, homes, schools, counties and even countries. My mother is American and my father of Irish descent. I was born and raised in London. It is the place I feel safest, even though it is a busy aggressive city. Moving around so much would not have helped me on my journey to discovering who I was. I learned quite quickly that boys can be very predatory, and as someone who did not experience attraction and had no interest in their desires, I felt vulnerable and small. I avoided the opposite sex at all costs, which was fairly easy from 11 onwards as I went to an all girls schools until the age of 16. During these years, I lied in conversations where I was obviously the anomaly. I claimed I was in a long distance relationship, while the girls all spoke about their crushes and what sexual acts they had ventured into. My tagline when asked about sexual intimacy was simply, "I don't discuss my sex life." How absurd to feel such pressure to appear normal that you invent a person and a private intimate relationship that you're far too mature to divulge.

At 16, I was thrown into the world of boys and girls. I attended a mixed sixth form, some 300 miles away from my previous school. I had to navigate the emotional immaturity of the students, and somehow befriend the boys without making them believe I wanted to be more than friends. Nothing changed in my reactions with regards to attraction. I could tell if someone had attractive features, although the general consensus always seemed to differ from mine. I could look at a person and see they were beautiful but feel nothing sexual whatsoever. I was almost scientific in my silent observations of others' beauty.

I was so very aware of societal expectations, and knew that as a 17-year-old virgin, I was pushing the bounds of what was considered the norm. I was scared but eventually brave, and after a ridiculous amount of attention from my then best friend, I finally gave in and began to date him. Eventually, at 18 I lost my virginity. I did not want to stand out any more than I already had. It was a troublesome relationship, and we grew up together and grew apart. It's very difficult to navigate the waters of a relationship with someone who you care for, but are not attracted to. It really does help to be attracted to your partner. I dated a few people thereafter and finally found someone I had a real connection to. He was lovely. He treated me like a person and not an object. He didn't alter his language around me to flatter my wrongly perceived feminine sensibilities, and he invited me around to watch the boxing with his friends. That's all I really wanted, to be included, and I would have been happy to be his friend forever. However, when things went the way they often do during the dating process, I began to wonder at 23-years-old, what was wrong with me? I felt no attraction whatsoever. This man was everything I thought I wanted, but I just... didn't want him.

I thought perhaps I was bisexual, and got close to a gay female friend of mine. Still no attraction whatsoever. I went on a date with another gay female. Still no attraction whatsoever. The only difference was that I did not feel defenceless with women, and I did not have to put on an act for them. I could not work out what was going on, but I was like a tornado ripping through people on my way to self-discovery. After a call with my brother, where he told me to "just stop," I conceded and decided with some perspective that I had only wanted to date as I felt I had too. Societal pressures yet again dictating my life. I took a step back and decided I would figure out my sexuality later on. I needed and so desperately wanted to be alone. Had I not given in to social norms and expectations, I would most definitely have still been a virgin by this point. I am always regretful knowing that I didn't give myself that time. I didn't want to lie anymore, and I didn't want to be judged. The fear of someone on the outside knowing what I am on the inside was terrifying.

So, here I was. I could finally be alone. This period in my life was one of the best for me. I did what I wanted and when. I didn't have to put on an act or feign passion. When people asked me if I was seeing anyone, I would use the clichéd quote I had learnt from the movies, "Oh, I'm done with men!" I felt empowered and calm. I lived with my best friend, the only man I could trust who didn't make me feel uncomfortable, and the first person I'd ever met that I felt a real connection too. I mainly spent this single period of my life, in bed snacking and watching films on my days off work.

I had been introduced to a woman from work who I'd taken an instant liking to, as I had noticed her at work before and thought she was cool. She was just becoming part of our friend group and I started spending all my time with her. My best friend said she could live with us if she wanted to, which she did after a while. She became someone I could not function without, which I had not experienced before. After a short time, she came out to me. She was quite masculine and strong. She said she had always known, but I felt privileged she had chosen to tell me. I told her I was Bisexual, as I had dated men and women, but I still felt no affinity with that terminology, most definitely had no interest in men, and was still yet to feel the attraction everyone else in the world seemed to feel. Then one night, when she was drunk, she asked me for her first gay kiss. I obliged as I had learnt through adhering to social norms that my body was not really my own, but was on loan to whoever I deemed would require it to enable me to keep that mask of normality on.

That kiss in combination with this solid friendship we had built together sparked something in me that I could not explain. And I now know this to be... Attraction. I thought about her all the time. Every day. I did everything and anything to get close to her, including dragging her to London to meet my family, and watching scary films so I could cuddle up to her. I got goosebumps when I saw her and I dreamt about her. She moved from staying on the sofa in the lounge, to the sofa in my room, to eventually my bed. We would cuddle, and give each other massages, and eventually... we were intimate. I was so confused to feel this way at 24 years old. I was completely blindsided. I was vulnerable, but I didn't feel unsafe. I preferred her company to my solitude. I could tell her anything and not feel judged. She was my best friend, and now she was my girlfriend. In stereotypically lesbian fashion, within one month we were renting just the two of us. We were engaged within 3 months, and married on our one year anniversary. I spoke to my brother about how confused I was about my sexuality as I had not felt this attraction to the men or women I dated before. He said I was demi-sexual. When I looked it up, I finally understood myself better. It was like someone had turned a light on.

Demi-Sexual: A demisexual is a person who does not experience sexual attraction unless they form an emotional connection. It's more commonly seen in, but by no means confined, to romantic relationships. The term demisexual comes from the orientation being "halfway between" sexual and asexual.

As I had strong emotional connections with men I had dated before, but had felt no attraction, I realised I was most definitely not a heterosexual, and felt far more comfortable with assigning myself as gay, which made so much sense to me. I always wanted to spend time with the men I had formed a bond with, but unfortunately this came with implied sexual responsibility. I felt that without the promise of intimacy, the emotional connection would be lost for them. I had sex with my friends basically, four to be precise, to keep them in my life. I felt I had no choice, and as I previously stated, I did not feel my body was really my own. Losing my virginity did not feel like freedom; it felt like a hollow relief. Thank god that's over, I am normal. I can be normal now. I will be loved, even if I am unable to romantically love this person back. It was a strange invasive release, not a liberation. And my sexual history thereafter was just a series of acts to keep friendships going, so I held some worth as a companion. I still find it hard to understand my worthiness of male friendship, and the fact that the foundation shouldn't ever have been built on sex. My worth as a female is not based on what I can give someone sexually. Nonetheless, I finally learnt from meeting this beautiful person, 6 years after my dive into adulthood, that I was a gay demi-sexual woman. I had finally met my person.

We celebrate 7 years together soon, and every day I love her more and more. We have built a life together, a life I am proud of, and she values me for who I am. For once in my life, I do not have to lie. I fancy the pants off her.