An Open Letter From An Asexual This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

December 22, 2013
By , Kent, OH
Dear world,

Asexual. One word, just one word, and it has the potential to embody so many traits about me. But first, let’s back up a bit. What exactly is an asexual?

If we’re going to go by the narrow, rigid constraints of the dictionary definition, then here it is, courtesy of The Oxford English Dictionary: “noun: a person who has no sexual feelings or desires.” That’s it.

But of course, that isn’t all an asexual is. An asexual is a person, yes, just as the dictionary so kindly informed us, but that’s not it. Asexuals are diverse people, people who run, sing, write, draw, cry, and laugh just as any other person would. They-we- ask you if you want to cuddle under a shell of blankets while marathoning Lord of the Rings, breathing in the smell of you, but we won’t ask, “Do you want to?” We will hold your hand and dry your tears. We mess up and make mistakes, we’ll scream at you when they’re angry. We make up approximately 1% of the world. We are, to be summative, humans.

But of course you, world, are not completely kind to us. Cold, calculating, cruel-words thrown at us from afar. People tell us that if we have sex, just once, we’ll be cured, as if there’s something wrong with us. There’s such a thing as corrective rape for us, too. We are not humans; no, instead we are machines to you, incapable of thought or feelings or desires. The less harsh criticism of boring seems to be popular as well, because apparently in order to be a have zest, sex is the ultimate answer. And it seems to be that not only heterosexuals fling these sorts of accusations at us, but homosexuals too. Certainly, it isn’t all of you. But these prejudices exist, and not only that, they thrive.

And so the whispers in my head start. Whispers that jeer at me that I am broken. How on earth will anyone, anyone love me? I’ll never find a relationship…all of this, ad nauseam, every night. Try as hard as I might, I can’t change who I am.

So instead, I suppose I’ll have to stick a smile on my face and get me to accept myself. Be proud: wave our flag, black, gray, white, and purple bands stacked on top of each other. In the long run, I have no idea if it will make a large impact, but I can always try.


An asexual.

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