@Courtney-RO@Iona-RO@fishyie@Sophia-RO@Bre-ROYesterday, a bunch of people in my Drama class pulled a prank on this guy and I which, long story short, involved the two of us sitting together on a couch at break (with only a few people around), the lights going out, a spotlight being shone on us, Careless Whisper being played and fake rose buds being chucked at my head. I initially was shocked/bemused/concerned? I found it kind of funny, but just felt worse about it as the day went on. He was pretty good-natured about it, and we could still talk fairly normally. Since then, someone involved messaged me to apologise if it went too far and I explained that it had. I said that I don’t mind the occasional joke but all the time is really irritating. They said they’d stop making jokes and encourage everyone else to do the same. Later that night, I talked to my mum about it in the car, which led to me saying “I don’t think I’m really interested.”
To which she said, “In him?”
And I replied, “In anyone at all.”
So she said, “Well, that’s ok. Are you happy with that?”
And, after a lot of breathing to prepare myself, I managed to tell her that I had been questioning myself for a few years and that I think I might be asexual, and possibly aromantic. We ended up having a long chat about it. I talked about how I haven’t had a crush since the beginning of high school, and even then it hadn’t lasted long and had only been on people I didn’t know very well (making me consider if I liked the idea of them more than I liked them). I explained that asexuality still meant having feelings of arousal, just that it wasn’t really aimed at anyone. Terms like “hot” and “sexy” kind of confused me and the idea of sex overall just grossed me out and was never present when I thought about possible romantic relationships. I talked about how I felt kind of scared: being asexual means romantic relationships would be a lot harder and being asexual and aromantic means having to let go of a lot of the romantic ideas and hopes you might have had for yourself. I mentioned the chapter from Loveless by Alice Oseman that I talked about earlier, where the main character speaks about how accepting being aromantic means almost a kind of mourning of the romantic relationships you thought you might have had. I talked about how, because society is so romance and sex-focused, it’s still hard for me to know/accept/fully believe these things. How there’s still this large part in my brain saying, “What if”, “That can’t be right”, “You just haven’t met the right person”, “Maybe if you try harder” etc.
While there were definitely moments I had to correct or clarify things for her, she was generally lovely and very supportive. She just kept saying “The most important thing is that you’re happy, and that you let me know how I can support you.” I told her that the best things would be if she could do some research so she understands things a bit better (she’d already mentioned it herself – I suggested she read Loveless, because I found a lot I could relate to when reading that), to not directly bring it up or ask about it (just to talk about it when I want to), and that – while I feel a bit more certain about the asexuality part – I’m still struggling with a lot of the self-doubt and “what if” questions that I mentioned before, so to know that the aromantic part is still a bit unclear to me as to whether or not that’s what I am.
It all still feels a bit scary, but definitely better now that she knows, and I’ve actually talked to someone in person about it. She’s sent me some really lovely messages this morning being really supportive, and about some research she’s done and how she’s beginning to understand better.
