Turn and learn

Turn and learn

Written by AJ Pincek

How is it possible to define oneself as aromantic or asexual? How is it possible to name oneself in accordance with a lack of a feeling—of romantic or sexual attraction, specifically— when theoretically, one could at any moment see a lovely-enough stranger, develop new feelings for a partner, or fall deeper for a friend? At what point in one’s life is it reasonable to assume that it probably won’t happen?

I did it at 16. After having listened to my friends’ incessant and unrelatable crush-gushing since kindergarten, I was ready to accept that I was aromantic and asexual. My younger self had the wisdom that I later struggled to re-learn: if you have, up until this point, not experienced romantic or sexual attraction, you might want to consider revisiting your identity. No matter what happens or changes in the future, if you know who you are right now and a label serves you, use it.

Now, at 20 years old, I no longer identify with aromanticism or asexuality, but I strongly reject the notion that I was wrong at 16. I was aromantic; I was asexual. Those labels helped me explain myself and my differences to the people around me.

There is so much shame surrounding changes in labels, especially when explaining to loved ones that you are no longer who you claimed to be. The shame compounds and loneliness arises when you realize you played an active role in a community you no longer belong to. I want to offer a big magazine hug to anyone experiencing anything like this right now. Seriously, wrap these pages around you.

You used the best language you had at the time for the feelings you were feeling. Never feel shame for not knowing the right labels; never feel shame for having new experiences that change the way you perceive your identity. Continue to love and support the communities you once belonged to. Handing my ace flag off to a new friend who identified with the label but didn’t have one was a loving and joyful experience that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Learning who you are should be a rewarding journey—mine was years-long, horribly intimidating, and very very fun. To dwell in shame is to diminish that experience. Lastly, happy early Ace Week to all of the asexuals out there. You are not broken, not less, and not forgotten. I love you dearly.