…Within the asexual community? I’ve been dealing with these feelings on and off since I first found it about 2 years ago, but it’s been in the past year that they’ve been especially bad. Over the past few weeks, I haven’t felt bothered at all, and actually, I felt encouraged by recent posts on the Asexual Agenda. They motivated me to create this blog! Some people liked the interview that I did (it was back in February, but I was happy to see it mentioned in some recent posts), and said they learned a lot from it, and I felt honored! I felt like the strange path that I took before finding the asexual community paid off, and that as difficult as it was to try and explain, it was worth the difficulty.
However, there are times when I regret it, and hate that I didn’t find the asexual community first, and why, because that affected what I’ve become.
Those feelings of isolation, anger, and regret came back up last night, and the night before. They hit me hard, while I was in the process of writing a follow-up to my Unassailable Asexual post, one to explain why I ended up taking the path that I did, the path that made both my Asexual Agenda interview, and attempts at voluntary celibacy resources possible. Thinking about it, I’m angry at myself for succumbing to my friends’ identity policing, because it made me feel like I have no right to seek out or identify with the asexual community.
I end up feeling like I shouldn’t talk about my experiences, not that ones that stand out too much. Maybe I shouldn’t. They make me look like a bad example of the asexual community, only remind me of how unrepresentative I am of it (being a current member of AVEN’s Project Team, this issue is especially bad!) and I should shut myself off, being only there to serve others as a mercenary in an impartial manner at all times. Because of the extreme obscurity of my experiences, knowing all too well that I’m an outlier in the asexual community, talking about my experiences feels like a nightmare to even attempt. I’m up against a brick wall… but it’s one of the fortress that I walled myself into, while everyone else is outside.
I feel like I’m not broken for who I am, but for what I became, and why, and it makes me wish that I found the asexual community first, because I’d be more ‘normal’ then.
Yesterday on tumblr, I made this post, desperate to find others who feel broken or alone, for not fitting the standard asexual narratives. Anyone feel like there’s something about their experiences that makes them a total odd-one-out in the community, and have felt that it’s incredibly difficult to talk about it?