Julie Sondra Decker - The Invisible Orientation: An Introduction to Asexuality

THE
INVISIBLE
ORIENTATION

AN INTRODUCTION TO ASEXUALITY

JULIE SONDRA DECKER

CARREL BOOKS

Copyright 2014 by Julie Sondra Decker

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Carrel Books, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Mary Belibasakis

ISBN: 978-1-63144-002-1

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-63144-017-5

Printed in the United States of America

TABLE OF CONTENTS

I would like to thank the following readers for their in-depth commentary, excellent analysis, and assistance in preparing this book:

Laura Sharp, Joseph Dante, Shawne Keevan, Helene Thompson, Hannah Hussey, Jessie Mannisto, Cristina C., Rebecca, and Laura.

Thanks go to the following readers for offering reactions, personal reflections, networking opportunities, support, and advice on the book:

Lydia White, Rachel Ward, Chandy Dancey, Marisa Kierra, Matthew Renetzky, Marisa Bishop, Aydan Selby, Lindsey Hampton, Brianne Nurse, Simon Parsons, Kristina Sanchez, Zanna Cooke, Jiselle Crawford, Sarah Sinnaeve, Kennedy St. John, Andrew Hinderliter, Emma Leslie, Kyle Evans, Patricia Wada, Charlie Glickman, David Jay, SL Huang, Whitney Fletcher, Emma MM, Eva, Nina, Christo, Amanda, Amy, Zoe, Ngina, Andreanne, Gabriel, Sarah, K.W., and Blow Pop.

For tolerating and supporting my sometimes obnoxious writerly habits and providing no shortage of unconditional love, immense thanks go to my parents, Marcia and Marlon, and my sisters, Patricia and Lindsay. Thank you also to my grandparents, my aunt, my brother-in-law, and all my honorary family. I give you all my eternal gratitude for all the support youve offered me on this journey.

For listening patiently to my tales of woe throughout the years and offering friendship with no strings attached, my heartfelt appreciation goes to these folks: Meghan, Jeaux, Victor, Jessie, Cara, Fred, Mike, Stacy, Sarah, Ronni, and R.

Thank you to the following asexual-spectrum bloggers whose borrowed words allowed this book to present a broader, more diverse picture of asexual experience:

Andrew Hinderliter, Audacious Ace, Aydan Selby, Dallas Bryson, Fiish, Ily, Jo Qualmann, Kaz, Laura, M. LeClerc, Mary Kame Ginoza, Queenie, Rebecca, Sciatrix, Tom, Tristan Miller, and those couple anonymous folks who know who they are.

I thank my agent, Andrea Somberg, for believing this book would change lives and offering her guidance to help make that happen. And I thank my editor, Nicole Frail, and the team at Skyhorse and Carrel Books for seeing value in my message and transforming my collection of rambles into an honest-to-goodness book.

Thanks to the following readers for sharing their unique perspectives, thereby greatly enhancing the books accuracy and authenticity:

Elica Vaz Teixeira Santos, Sara Beth Brooks, Rafaela F. Ferraz, Anuar A Lequerica, Adrienne Whisman, Zelda MacFarland, Amber Francis, Dallas Bryson, Ashley Pratt, Cassie Walker, Elaine Capshaw, Colleen Dolan, Elliece Ramsey, Mara Seaborne, Glen Ireland, Jenna Bruck, Jennifer Wodtke, Julia Brankley, Kato Murray, Kayla Rubano, Matthew Pena, Ozy Frantz, Paul Kriese, Pete Rude, Rafaela Stancic, Samantha Finley, Shelby Riffle, Sonia Berg, Tatiana Taylor, Terra Albert, Artemis Gyccken, Tracy Foote, J. Ruddock, Cynthia Marie, Haley Marcayla, Luka R.C., Essie C, Gia S, Elliot T., Lou, Annie, Brittany, Amelia, Ellen, Lillia, Tas, Kai, Shayla, Blythe, Tom, H.X., Alicorn, Sciatrix, knittedace, Liara-shadowsong, The Scrabbler, nervous_neuron, ridiculousprocrastinator, singinglupines, iamdeltas, Infinite Tree, Asexual-poetry, The One in Purple, and Citation, Queen of Gibberish.

I couldnt have written this book without the support of my community. Thank you all.

Its not you, its me.

At age fourteen, I had my first boyfriend. I wasnt attracted to him, but I kissed him a few times anyway because I was expected to. It certainly wasnt the thrilling experience movies and romance books had led me to expect. In fact, I could barely think of an experience Id enjoyed less. But whenever I told people I thought so, theyd say, Youre fourteen. One day youll like it.

At age sixteen, I left my second boyfriend perplexed and frustrated. I liked him as a person, but I wasnt interested in him the way he wanted me to be: definitely not sexually, and not even romantically. My disinterest in having sex with him wasnt rooted in the usual reasonsthat a lady was expected to save herself, that I was afraid of sex, that I didnt want to get diseases or get pregnantI simply had a complete lack of interest in sex and anything related. I didnt think sex was a gross concept. I didnt think it was immoral. Id just never been sexually attracted to another person. Not my boyfriend, not the hottest people in school, not the heartthrob movie stars. I wasnt interested. Period.

My boyfriend dubbed me Miss Non-Hormone. I called myself nonsexual. I was reasonably sure that I would recognize sexual attraction if I felt it, but the mantra of you cant know until you try it did inspire me to experiment a bit. And all my experiences were exactly what Id expected: at best tolerable, at worst uncomfortable. Never enjoyable, never exciting, never intriguing enough to make me want more. I broke up with the boy because he considered sex an essential element in a relationship, and I vowed to trust myself from then on as the authority on what I was feeling and what experiences I wanted. If this sexual attraction thing ever happened to me, Id go with it, and if not, I had no reason to force it. At eighteen, I fully expected to develop a normal sexual appetite when I got older.

That was in 1996.

Nothing changed for me, and I made my peace with that, even though it was disorienting and sometimes alienating when nearly all my friends were either partnering up (and gleefully discussing the details) or acting depressed about their inability to do so.

The concerned comments began rolling in during my late teens and early twenties.

Thats not normal. You need to get checked out.

Youre never going to be happy.

I can fix you. I can help you.

Youre a loser. Youre a failure.

You have a disorder.

Youre going to die alone with a houseful of cats.

Shut up and admit youre gay.

Why is it such a big deal to try sex?

Youre selfish. Youre a tease.

Women arent supposed to like sex anyway.

Youre trying to be different. You just want attention.

Youre too ugly to get laid.

Youre too pretty to go to waste.

Some of the people making these comments were well-meaning. Some of them found it offensive that sex didnt matter to me. Some felt my lack of interest in a central aspect of their lives somehow disrespected sex itself or the people who love it. And all of them wanted me to believe there was something wrong with meand make me choose between fixing it and being properly ashamed of it.