The asexual hookup

[Trigger warning: sex/sexuality.]

I am asexual. 

I know I keep saying this over and over again. But I feel I have to — and this irritates me and pains me — because I’m feeling invalidated by people over and over again, with some of the usual gaslighting that ace people so often get, e.g. “maybe you just have to find the right person” or “but if you have a crush, you cannot really be ace/aro” or “isn’t this just disingenuous of you?” 

No, it’s not disingenuous of me — it’s actually disingenuous (and/or hypocritical and/or lacking self-awareness) of all those other people to not realize, or admit, that having sex is not always/necessarily connected to sexual attraction. In fact, a study conducted in 2007* (“Why humans have sex”) identifies 142 reasons why people have sex, divided into 4 ‘macrofactors’ and 13 ‘subfactors’; some examples are the following: 

– Physical Factors, incl. Stress reduction, Pleasure, Physical Desirability/Attraction, Seeking out a new experience; 

– Achieving (a) goal(s), e.g. Resources, Social status, Revenge, Utilitarianism; 

– Emotional Reasons, e.g. Love and/or Commitment, Expression; 

– Insecurity, e.g. Increasing/Improving one’s own self-esteem, Duty/Pressure, Maintaining (a) partner(s).

Of all these reasons, the only one that really pertains to sexual attraction per se is “Physical Desirability/Attraction”. 

Personally, I have had sex motivated by “Physical Desirability/Attraction” only a couple of times, or with a couple of persons, in my entire life (over the course of a quarter of a century). Most of the times that I’ve had (& still have) sex it’s out of curiosity, because I’m seeking out a new experience — and that goes for most of the things I do in my life, honestly, so in that way sex is no different for me than traveling or trying out a new food or new sport. I’ve also often had sex for pure and simple libido, stress reduction and/or pleasure, and I find that really holds for autoeroticism. I think I have had a few sexual experiences out of love and/or commitment. And I’m sorry to say that I have also been in one relationship where the reasons for sex were more along the lines of duty/pressure and/or trying to maintain the partner — something I’m definitely never, ever going to do again! 

I’m sure that many people who have sex, regardless of their sexual orientation or inclinations, could say they had/have sex for at least two or three different reasons on that list above… and probably reasons that having nothing to do with sexual attraction (& maybe not even with love)… 

Yesterday, I had a perfectly asexual hookup and I’m still glowing from it. It was with the gender-bending gay guy from chorus and one of the most liberating, validating, and affirming experiences that I’ve had in a long while (at least connected to my body). And also very new — there’s the “seeking out a new experience” reason. I don’t feel sexually attracted to this person. I think he’s cute, I’m fascinated by their ease around gender and gender-bending, it’s refreshing and even liberating & empowering for me. And I feel safe with him. I can feel the interest or attraction from them towards me and I feel safe to respond to him on a level of physical & sexual intimacy. That sense of safety has always been one of my main guidelines in my sexual experiences. I have a very good “gut sense” for who is safe and then I’m able to explore (i.e. seek out new experiences for myself) with that person because I know instinctively that I’m safe. The “gay men” world is still almost completely unknown to me and still something that I’m very curious about. And there’s also still so many things I want to explore about myself — how I feel in this “new” body of mine at different levels; my gender identity in different instances and with different people; gender-expression, play, pleasure…  So hooking up with this gender-expansive gay guy is another — and in many ways new — way for me to explore things about myself and about worlds that pull on my curiosity. There is hardly any difference for me between a hookup like the one I had last night and going on a beautiful hike in a new place (by myself): both experiences are rooted in a desire to explore, motivated by curiosity, open to “whatever it may bring”; and both experiences give me joy, pleasure, freedom, along with a sense of validation and liberation of different parts of myself. 

And to be brutally honest, both experiences probably also have the same chemical effect on my/our brain(s)!

*[”Why humans have sex” by Cindy M. Meston & David M. Buss, Archives of Sexual Behavior, Volume 36, issue 4, August 2007, pp. 477-507.]

The importance (& novelty) of platonic human touch

Last night, I cried a lot. Silent tears, on and off.  

But I didn’t cry alone. I was within a loving community and with two good friends. And along with the tears there were lots of hugs, warm embraces as we held each other’s hands, as we held each other in our arms, standing or sitting together. 

It was a blessing to be there all together, to get that human touch, to co-regulate with these two transmasc friends. And the positive effects go beyond the sharing & co-regulation in the sadness or remembrance or communal celebration of last night: these two transmasc friends are similar to me in their need or wish for platonic human touch — be it through dancing, contact-improv, or movie&snuggles night. And we said explicitly that we should do this more often with each other. And I think that we will, that the circumstances in our lives and/or the level of friendship we have reached are ripe for that type of connection now. 

I like that idea, although it also feels unfamiliar (& a little scary with my new transmasc friend whom I still don’t know very well). 

For so long, and especially since COVID, I have been craving platonic affectionate human touch that is neither sexual nor romantic… And now I’m starting to get it: from some of my older queer friends with whom our relationship has gotten deeper and more comfortable; from new queer friends with whom we are intentionally setting expectations and expressing needs/desires clearly; from some of my closer cis-het male buddies/friends with whom we are opening up to new levels of intimacy and/or vulnerability; with guys in the gay men’s chorus. 

It’s not like I’m constantly touching people or being touched but even a little is more than zero and even this little bit I’m getting feels good because it’s mutual/consensual and spontaneous and easy-going. And while I’m enjoying this change (or the beginning of this change), it also feels weird to me, maybe because it’s so new or somewhat unfamiliar or unexpected… In some ways, I cannot fully believe that it’s a possibility for me; I’m afraid to jinx it or to lose it. 

And I also wonder: how come now?

Is it finally beginning to happen now because I am starting to loosen up, to open up at last? 

TDOR 2024: we shall not forget

[Trigger warnings: transphobia, violent deaths, hate crimes, shooting; grief.]

I’m still feeling a complex and intense mix of emotions from last night’s Trans Day Of Remembrance celebrations — and tired from another night of poor sleep as my mind couldn’t settle. 

I went to last night’s event with my oldest/closet nonbinary transmasc friend and with a new, common, transmasc friend (the latter was one of the performing artists for the celebration). 

There was food, poetry, music — local artist sharing their talents, a sing-along. 

There was the “ceremony”, i.e. the reading of the names of the victims of transphobia: over thirty of them this year in the U.S. (that we know of), most of them people of color (& mostly transwomen); many in their twenties & thirties; some teenagers even… the youngest only fourteen, a child. 

There were candles and photos and promises to not forget. There were trans flags and all other pride flags. And there were paper cranes: white, baby pink, and baby blue. 

There were tears and hugs, embraces and (hand-)holding. 

There were words and glances and nods. And there was silence. 

I cried a lot. Silent tears, on and off. I cried for them, for me, for us. 

[Yesterday, was also the sad two-year anniversary of the hate-crime shooting that happened at Club Q in Colorado Springs on November 20th, 2022.]

Trans Day Of Remembrance 2024

This is my third Trans Day Of Remembrance in Colorado. And probably the one I’m feeling, and celebrating, the most — at least, until now. 

The first one, in 2022, I was sick/recovering from COVID. 

Last year, TDOR 2023 almost passed unnoticed for me because I was so swamped with work. 

This year, I’m fully tuned in for TDOR 2024. Partly because of the new, horrific political & social reality. But partly — mostly, more positively — because of where I am in my life now: more confident and comfortable in my own nonbinary trans identity; surrounded by queer, nonbinary, trans people and communities at different levels of closeness and intimacy — some very dear and close trans and/or nonbinary friends; my nonbinary transmasc housemate; a neighborhood full of queer, and many specifically trans and/or nonbinary, persons; the gay men’s chorus; the people with whom I collaborate for the inclusive, gender-expansive activities for trans/nonbinary athletes. 

I will be celebrating TDOR with a new transmasc friend this evening within community. There will probably be a mix of intense emotions coming up, but I’m looking forward to it and feel ready for it.

Shifting boundaries and conflicting needs

The night between Sunday & Monday, after rehearsal with the gay men’s chorus, I barely got four hours of sleep. The interactions with the guy on whom I have an intense, albeit aro-ace, crush had thrown me for a loop. Basically, we seemed to intentionally ignore each other during most of the evening both during rehearsal/breaks and at the bar across the street where many of us go for social time afterwards. Then, at the bar, we finally did interact and the type & level of touch between us was of the sort that I, personally, allow or reserve for the rare instances of “liking” someone in the sense of wanting to cuddle and/or snuggle with them. Which is the desire I feel towards this person but I don’t know whether it’s mutual in that way. And not knowing this is something that throws me for a loop. 

For better or for worse, I have the type of brain that cannot let go of a question or problem until it’s solved, which is why I had a sleepless night but I also processed the events and my thoughts and feelings with some trusted close friends. And my friends’ reactions and opinions helped me process the circumstances further and reach some, at least partial, clarity for myself. 

When I described the events to my friends, a couple of them replied something along the lines of “all you can really do for now is wait and see”, i.e. see how it evolves, how the other person in the chorus continues to behave, etc. I didn’t like that thought: my body tensed up, my whole being balked at the idea of “just waiting and seeing what the other guy does”. My friends’ advice was wholly well-intended and it also gave me information about myself: I cannot, or don’t want to, just passively “sit and wait and observe”. That’s not my personality but also my brain doesn’t deal well with that, partly because I don’t trust how my brain interprets certain signals from other people, especially in queer environments and/or in situations that could potentially be “beyond platonic”. 

A couple other friends, instead, replied more along the lines of “you can say something and ask for clarity without necessarily making it (too) awkward” and/or “you can set your own boundaries if this type of touch is too much for you”. While uncomfortable, that advice sat much better with me. 

I don’t dislike or disapprove of the type of touch between me and this other “genderqueer boy” in the chorus: on the contrary, I like it, I yearn it, and maybe to a certain extent I’m seeking it and/or inviting it. But it’s true that I don’t want it, or am not ready for it, unless the level of “liking” is mutual between me and this other person. If for them it’s just the way they interact/behave with everyone, while for me it’s something “special”, then I need it to stop. And if I want it to stop, I need to communicate it explicitly, either verbally or with clear body language. 

This is my boundary. This is “my style”. This is how I function. This is what I need. 

I want, and to a certain extent I even need, that “special”, intimate touch, those hugs that are really embraces, that brushing of the hands, that brief playing with each other fingers. But I don’t want it if the “special feeling” isn’t mutual. In the future, I might be ready/up for that type or level of intimacy without there really being any “special feelings” with someone, but now I’m not. And I need to respect this need of mine, this boundary of mine. It might be a shifting boundary, and there’s definitely a conflict now between what I need and what I want, i.e. between what I need and where I’d like to place the boundary. But the only safe thing for me to do now is to place that boundary with some extra buffer and seek clarification as soon as possible. 

How to get clarification specifically with this person is the real conundrum now… text message? email? ask to meet up outside of rehearsal? wait a week or two or until after the holiday concert cycle?

The gift of friendship

A few days ago, one of my closets friends here in Colorado said to me that I “have a gift for friendship”. 

That’s one of the highest compliments I could be given, one of the loveliest things I could be told. And I’m not sure I deserve such a compliment. 

More simply, I would say that I “have a need for friendship” and “have (received & given) the gift of friendship”. 

As I’ve often mentioned, friendship is the only mutual/reciprocal way I know to get really close and intimate to other people. I can get close as a mentor or mentee — but that isn’t a peer relationship. I can get close in certain communities where one can share special/vulnerable experiences and/or empathy and/or camaraderie — but that tends to be circumstantial. When it comes to deep intimacy, for me friendship is the only key. Or it’s the key that I use, adapting it to each different case, person, relationship. 

This birthday has been the best one I’ve had in years. And it’s been so because I’ve been surrounded by friends and showered by love, community, and friendship. 

Maybe what my friend meant the other day when he said that I “have a gift for friendship” is that, although I’ve messed up with friends more than once and let people down sometimes, I do put a lot of energy, intention, effort, and care in relationships and I show up authentically (which is sometimes precisely the cause for my messing up!).

And maybe it’s also that “simply being my quirky self” that made it so that many different people showed up for me to celebrate my birthday with me in a variety of ways over the course of the past ten days. 

I have definitely been receiving an abundant gift of friendship lately. 

Aro-ace crush

I have a crush on one of the guys in the gay men’s chorus. 

Admittedly, I hardly know this person. But there have been more direct interactions between us than with other choir members and there seems seems to be a mutual liking, although I don’t exactly know of what sort on their part. 

I hardly know him and yet I instinctively feel a very intense draw towards them that in some way is beyond, or different from, platonic while still not being romantic or sexual. 

Why do I feel this way? 

Because they’re a queer, AMAB, gender-bending, slightly-more-masculine-leaning person and that’s “my type” (or “one of my types”)? Or because he reminds me of my European (gender)queer ex-lover, who was a “similar type”? Or because they’ve shown some interest, or at least friendly affection, towards me, and maybe I’m somewhat recipro-romantic/recipro-sexual? 

The way in which I “like” them or am “drawn to him” is beyond or different from platonic for me in the sense that I’m not just curious to get to know them better and/or just hang out with him; I also want to touch/hug them and want him to touch/hug me a lot, too; I would like to cuddle with them and I can even feel the desire to sleep or lay in bed with them and explore what might happen, including potentially sex. But not in a sense that I feel sexual attraction towards him (like I did for the guy at the climbing gym or my fuck-buddy in grad school). The sex would rather be from a sense of curiosity mixed with an instinctive feeling of being safe with him and a desire to get close/intimate with them. And it partly also might have to do with my desire & need not only for physical closeness/touch but to actually be held and/or be liked as a genderqueer boy by another genderqueer boy — with all the affirming validations that would entail for me.

For lack of a penis?

[Trigger warnings: misgendering, potential transphobia; nude modeling; references to naked body parts, incl. genitals.]

In my nude modeling session yesterday I was heavily misgendered by the instructor (a woman in, I’m guessing, her mid-forties). And it was one of the most upsetting experiences I’ve had.

We started out with a standard set of gestures and short poses; for all ten of my 1-minute gestures I was in standing poses, rotating for the whole room to get views of my full body from different angles. Then we moved on to the long pose which, as requested by the instructor, was sitting. I sat upright, leaning a little backwards, on a chair with my legs stretched out on a low stool, so my whole body was still visible. During the second iteration of the long pose, the instructor was going around to help the students with their drawings, as is often the case. And suddenly, as she was standing with the student right in front of me, I heard the professor refer to me as “she”. I was so surprised (this rarely happens anymore) that I thought she might actually have said “he” and maybe I had misheard. But only a moment later, with the same student, I heard the instructor clearly use the pronoun “her” referring to me (she said something like “she has her legs in this position…”). I was extremely upset, of course. I took a quiet, deep breath. Then I said out loud, politely but firmly, “My pronouns are ‘he’ or ‘they’” while still posing immobile. The professor said “Sorry” and I continued posing. I took another deep breath to quiet my mind but I was too upset by the incident — this unacceptable incident. So I said that I needed a break, put my robe back on, and went up to the instructor and asked her to please talk with me. We left the room and I told her, again in a composed but firm manner, that what had happened was extremely upsetting for me and that I therefore couldn’t resume the modeling. The professor apologized profusely and seemed sincerely chagrined and took full responsibility for the incident. But the problem remains and it is huge. I am still feeling traumatized from this incident. 

My identity is nonbinary transmasculine and clearly stated as such, as are my ‘he/they’ or ‘they/he’ pronouns on the modeling website. I rarely get misgendered with female pronouns at this point, partly because I “really look like a guy” — although that shouldn’t be a necessary requirement for me or anyone else to be addressed with my/their correct pronouns. 

This instance is particularly upsetting because it involves nude modeling: if someone misgenders me, referring to me with female pronouns, when I’m stark naked, the only thing I can think is that my genitals are causing such misgendering — which is awful. It makes me feel disrespected, unseen, objectified, sexualized, and naked in a horrible way. 

Until now the nude modeling for figure art drawing had been a wonderfully affirming experience for me, validating my nonbinary maleness and helping me revel and rejoice in it in ways that are different from usual and special for me. But yesterday’s incident reactivated one of my worst nightmares: that of being “seen as a woman” because I don’t have a penis. 

Nobody should have to feel that way. Ever.

Turning the sieve into a bucket?

Last night I had the first full, regular rehearsal with the gay men’s chorus again after the retreat two weeks ago. And it was lovely. 

Having reached out to a few trusted members before the retreat and then going to the retreat itself have really helped me feel more comfortable with myself within this choir. 

I think the major thing for me has been to feel safe & comfortable enough to be my true trans self within this choir. The moment I was able to internalize that as a wonderful thing (one of my superpowers, e.g. when it comes to the range of my voice), on the one hand, and to see it as something not only accepted but even celebrated by those around me in the chorus, on the other, everything shifted for the better. 

I’m learning to let go with(in) this group of people in ways that are truly, authentically mine and some of which rarely have outlets. But I’m also just being myself, less afraid or worried of them not liking me because I’m trans. 

I’m slowly discovering and enacting ways of being myself that I cannot fully enact with any other group of people. There’s the singing, of course, and my voice getting more confident and louder, at last, even thanks to the encouragement of more established members in my section. There’s the dancing and the gender-bending in the outfits (including my own); the playfulness; a sort of generalized flirtatiousness or affection that isn’t necessarily sexual but merely a way of expressing our belonging to a community. And then there are also deeper, more vulnerable or intense ways of showing this belonging to the community, like the ease with which many of the chorus members cry and hold each other in their tears; how they openly share anger and pain as well as joy. 

And I’m finally doing it, too, letting go and just being myself, doing or saying things in my own way. 

At rehearsal last night, I cried and laughed. And sang out with all the voice I had, when I had it. I wore my skinny gay-boy jeans and my tight gay-boy T-shirt with one of my trans pins: the one I got at Salt Lake City Pride with the colors of the trans flag and the words “Won’t be erased”, wearing it high on my chest. And a few of the cis gay men in the chorus were wearing T-shirts or pins in support of trans folks, too — which really warmed my heart. 

After rehearsal, I went to the bar across the street to socialize with other chorus members. I teased those who said “We haven’t met before” when we actually already had and I reminded them by showing that I already knew their names. I joined conversations without necessarily waiting to be explicitly invited (& it was totally OK); I didn’t hesitate to make the first step to say “Hi” or ask “How are you doing?” to guys that I knew even just a little bit — i.e. I behaved as I usually do when I feel comfortable. When some of them were joking about the negative side effects of Viagra, I openly said, “Well, at least being trans I don’t have that problem!” and we all laughed. And when we started commenting on the dire consequences of the election results and someone (a cis gay guy) was lamenting the fact that probably one of the first measures will be to exclude trans people from the armed forces, I exclaimed, “But we don’t even have to go that far: people like me might not be able to get their meds!” and the silence and empathy that followed were just so powerful, so heartwarming… 

I am a nonbinary trans gay boy and I’m finally learning to be myself authentically within this group of people, too, and this means so much to me because from these persons specifically I can get some forms of love/care/affection that I cannot get elsewhere: mainly that closeness and physical touch that I’m unable to get from other groups of people or friends. I love the touchy-feeliness so many of these guys have with each other and that they bestow on me, too, when they can tell that it’s OK for me. They’re actually really good either at reading my body language or at asking me for permission for hugs/touch. And I’m feeling a lightness and ease in being touchy-feely with them, without double guessing myself like I usually do with other demographic groups — and this feels extremely liberating and healing to me. 

I am hopeful that the specific combination of being accepted & liked as a nonbinary trans gay boy by a group of cis gay men and of having these experiences of physical touch & physical affection that are consensual (without always having to be explicitly negotiated in words) & mutually sought out will help turn that sieve of mine into a bucket — or, at least, a cup…