Chapter 13

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Now that I'd experienced how the average human male acted online, I tried to forgive my grandparents for some of their insane efforts to protect me from the modern world. In some ways, they were right.

Some men did act like pigs.

I'd never dreamed that so many guys would troll the Web for people to screw. Until the Internet revealed them all.

Invariably within five minutes of logging onto AOL via my noisy dial-up connection, some idiot would try to chat me up without knowing a damn thing about me. I didn't even know how they got my username. Until it occurred to me that I'd used the same username on LiveDiary as I had on AOL.

Duh, rookie mistake.

This new idiot didn't even have the common courtesy to say hello.

Hot4UNow: a/s/l?
CelibateForLife: no.
Hot4UNow: what you mean no
Hot4UNow: saw your blog
Hot4UNow: why you ignore me babe
CelibateForLife: blocked

Almost every stranger who had ever sent me an instant message began with that annoying preface. A/S/L was an online bangability filter: age, sex, and location.

1. Am I allowed to bang them?

2. Are they the right gender for me?

3. Do I have access to them?

No 'hello', no 'how are you', none of the typical trivial niceties. No need for cheesy pick-up lines. Just a/s/l.

It came across as crass to me, and I wouldn't be caught dead saying that to anyone. At any time. Much less to a freaking stranger as a greeting. Yet another thing I didn't understand about the human condition...

Never mind. I couldn't change some random disembodied voice in the void.

Instead, I focused on learning more about this asexuality business now that I'd finally aced my Christian Ethics project. After dropping my unnecessary Biology II class, I set aside a bit more free time for myself.

Hearing the term asexual from two different commenters on my blog had clued me into the fact that it might not have been some random term Eric had used back in school.

Perhaps asexuality was a real thing.

So I used a new search engine called Google Beta to find some more information on the subject. Needless to say, my results didn't prove very fruitful. Even though I didn't know much, I could only imagine those asexual commenters would find some of them downright insulting and ignorant.

Amoebas and Asexual Reproduction

Amoebas reproduce via asexual reproduction, a process by which...

Category: Science > biology > asexual reproduction

Humans and asexuality?

No, humans must engage in sexual intercourse to reproduce...

Category: Science > biology > human anatomy

Cure for Asexuality

I dont wanna half sex. Is there a cur?...that drinking eight ounces of cranberry juice every day may stimulate...

Category: advice column > sexuality

Do Asexuals Really Exist?

Asexuals are fake, man. They just closet...Be gay and proud, dude! Come out when you're ready, but don't make up some weird-ass...

Category: journalism > blogs > society > sexuality

Asexuality and Abuse

Scientists at the University of ... to debunk possible correlations between sexual assault and asexuality...

Category: education > popular science > sexuality

Asexual and Pergancy

Help! Can an asexuals get prgnanant?

Category: advice column > biology > human anatomy

Reading all of these nonsense results cast me into a spiral of doubt. How dumb could people be? Some questions were irrelevant or just plain bonkers, but some of them worried me.

In particular, I stared at the "Do Asexuals Really Exist?" article. To be frank, I'd considered the same question a long time ago. 

Was I a closet lesbian?

It would explain why I didn't want to have a physical relationship with a guy, after all. Maybe I did prefer women instead. 

Oh, that would be good, wouldn't it? That would make me normal.

I sank deep into myself and thought about it as objectively as I could.

Many times I'd changed in rooms with other Irish dancers, all of whom were women. There were other times too. Eighth grade graduation practice when we'd changed into our gowns.  School theater changing areas. Modern dance fitting rooms. 

Never felt even the tiniest hint of a flush or a tingle.

What about Care, though? 

No way. She and I were like sisters. 

Sure, we shared a bond I didn't have with anyone else. Through the years, we'd huddle under blanket forts or hug each other in tough times. We could talk about all the mysteries of life. Play video games until one in the morning. Kick each other's asses when we needed it. 

Even though I loved her the way people loved a best friend or a sister, I could never be with her. I shuddered at the thought. 

Besides, when I crushed, I crushed hard. Each time the crush-train came barreling through my system and stopped at the infatuation station, it left no doubt. There was no mistaking it for some other random emotion. Wave after wave of dopamine and oxytocin would turn me into a bowl full of Crazy Town at the sight of an attractive or intelligent guy.

Take Jack the freaking Jock, for instance. When he told me those jokes in Physics, a swoosh of craziness flooded me. My cheeks burned crimson. Laughter tumbled out of me, almost outside of my control, even though his jokes weren't that funny.

Or take Bryan. Despite all of his asshattery, I couldn't deny that he was gorgeous eye candy and more. I respected his dedication to football, too. One couldn't help but admire all the hard work he put into creating a physique like that. I used to blush like hell whenever he looked at me.

Not only that, but the kid managed to get good grades on top of that. He had brains. He just didn't freaking use them. If only Bryan weren't a caveman fuckwit who'd lied to drive Eric away, he might not have been half bad. 

Or take Eric. Whenever I thought too much about him--even now--my heart burned for him. From his shy aloofness to his keen intellect, from his striking looks to his deep voice, from his cool exterior to all those intense emotions burbling beneath the mask of logic, I cared about him.

Did I ever feel that way about girls, though?

Well, I'd admire their prowess at a sport or dance, no doubt about that. But it wasn't like the times I daydreamed about guys. Running my hands over Eric's arms? Definite tingles. 

Running my hands over Sarah's arms? Uh, why?

I went through an entire list of women I knew. Not a very large list, granted. Occupational hazard of keeping mostly to myself. But a decent one nonetheless.

My grandparents would kill me for thinking this, but I scoured that list, hoping that I'd find even one girl I liked. Just one. Some hint that I was indeed sexual like everyone else. 

But I came up empty. Not a single instance.

No, if anything, I found girls a bit annoying and tedious. I could stand Care because we were kindred spirits. Fellow nerds. Other girls made me want to bang my head against the wall.

Surely if I liked girls, some part of me would get excited over the prospect of kissing them or having a relationship with them, right? But how would I know for sure? I'd never talked to a lesbian. Didn't even know how it worked. Didn't think about it, to be honest. 

As a thought experiment, I imagined Sarah kissing me because I disliked her the least and admired her mind the most. She was also objectively quite pretty because most of the guys wanted to be with her. 

Hmm...nah. Kissing her seemed kinda pointless really.

Then I imagined Eric kissing me.

Just the thought of Eric cradling me from behind as we swayed to music sent delicious waves of tingles racing from head to toe. He'd dip his head down, planting gentle kisses in the crook of my neck. His hands trailing across my sides. Goosebumps rose along my skin when I imagined his touch.

Whooo, okay! Calm your ass down...

Without getting into too much detail, that little daydream sent my nether regions into a bit of a tailspin. Surely that meant I was sexual, right? Why would I daydream intimate details like that if I were asexual? Asexual meant no sexual attraction, right?

I heaved a heavy sigh. What in the holy hell did all of this mean? I didn't want sex but felt tingles? What kind of a dumb-ass did that? 

And then people wondered why I didn't want to date. I needed to understand this crap before I went anywhere near a guy. Otherwise I could give off the wrong signals or hurt him by mistake. 

If only I could ask someone for advice... 

But who? Not my family. Even if Grandad was one-hundred percent healthy, they wouldn't know the first thing about this. Not a priest. Last time I tried that, he didn't get it. Not my classmates. They'd tell me to experiment and try things out until I found what I liked. 

What about Care? I loved her dearly and trusted her with all my heart, but she had about as much experience with guys as I did. Too driven to really give a crap about them.

Wait a minute! That sounds like the perfect topic for a blog entry!

LiveDiaryYour On-Line Journal

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The Celibate Life

@CelibateForLife

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Sunday, March 7, 1999

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Today will be a short post because I'm busy. And confused.

Can someone please explain to me what the heck sexual attraction even is? Now I know what sex is, and I know what attraction means. But how do you know whether or not you experience sexual attraction?

I think I do, but I'm not sure. Maybe I don't.

When I think about guys, I get really...uh...excited about lots of things. Like kissing or dancing. Or even snuggling or cuddling in bed without sex, weirdly enough. 

Talking to a guy about important philosophical or political issues gives me such a buzz. The thought of a crush asking me out feels like going on the most exciting roller coaster ride ever—thrilling and a bit scary. 

Don't worry: I get all the normal jitters that go along with relationships. If I ever found a guy who could accept all these crazy things about me, I'd like to date. Maybe. 

Actually, no. I would totally date a like-minded man if we had a close bond.

But I have to admit that I never picture anyone having sex with me. Is that weird? I mean, I don't even dream about it. Like, ever. Neither as a daydream nor while I'm sleeping.

The other things do turn me on, though. And I have crushes on people all the time. So I guess I do experience sexual attraction?

Oh, heck! I'm so confused right now.

Someone heeeeelp!

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20 comments

@AceofClubs To answer your question, sexual attraction means you find a particular person sexually appealing, and that makes you want to have sex with them.

➡️ @CelibateForLife So if I have a crush on a guy, is that sexual attraction?

➡️➡️ @AceofClubs Not necessarily. It doesn't matter what you do or don't do. The question is: how do you feel? Celibate people can feel sexual attraction but don't act on it. Asexuals can have sex without feeling sexual attraction.

➡️➡️➡️ @CelibateForLife I don't understand how I feel, to be honest. When I have a daydream about a guy, I imagine doing everything but sex. Not really a big fan of French kissing either. But I like everything else. Like deep conversations. Walking hand in hand. Stuff like that.

➡️➡️➡️➡️ @BackstreetBoyzRockinDaHouse dood dint do it right otherwise u wud like sex and kissing and shit

➡️➡️➡️➡️ @AceofClubs Never mind Backstreet, Cel. There are six kinds of attraction, and asexuals can experience all but one of them. That might help to explain the concept a bit better. If you want, I can email you a description. Just PM me your email address.

➡️➡️➡️➡️ ➡️ @BackstreetBoyzRockinDaHouse find the right dood and he make u go crazayyyyy. maybe ace is ur dood, Cel.

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @CelibateForLife Thanks, Ace. Backstreet, can it! Jeez Louise.

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @AceofClubs Happy to help. ;)

@curiouscritter ur overthinking this. it means u want the d, man. no d = asexual

➡️ @Girl4Girlz21 That's bs man. am I asexual because I don't want d?

➡️➡️ @curiouscritter chick cool ya tits. cel likes guys. and what the eff man, cel could be a dude or a chick. point is if they want d, they want sex.

➡️➡️➡️ @CelibateForLife For the avoidance of doubt, I'm a girl.

➡️➡️➡️➡️ @curiouscritter see, she straight @Girl4Girlz21

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @Girl4Girlz21 you don't knwo that. she might be ace and if she is, she ain't straight.

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @CelibateForLife ace?

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @AceofClubs asexual = ace like in my name

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @curiouscritter she likes men dumb asz! she straight.

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @AceofClubs It's rude to presume someone's sexual orientation. You have to let them figure it out. @curiouscritter

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️ @curiouscritter whatever man @AceofClubs

Well, that tiny blog post generated a hell of a lot of debate. And lured a bunch of trolls my way.

Oddly enough, I didn't mind the trolls too much because they brought up a lot of questions I had asked myself. Not in the same rude and callous manner, of course. 

Because they'd raised those points, I didn't have to look foolish and ignorant myself.

Now I had a conundrum, though. My family told me not to chat with anyone, and that definitely meant no talking to strangers. But without writing Ace a PM, I couldn't find out that information on the levels of attraction that might help me.

Writing a single message wasn't the same as chatting, was it?

I had to follow the spirit of the law, not the letter. My grandparents didn't want me chatting for hours on end to random guys who would distract me from work. Or with perverts who planned to lure me into white vans and drive me to underground bunkers to screw and dump.

Or whatever other crazy scenario they'd dreamed up.

Well, they didn't need to worry about the latter. As regards the former, I'd gotten straight As in school. If I researched asexuality for fifteen minutes a day, it didn't hurt anyone. 

In fact, it helped me to understand myself better.

In order to give Ace my contact details, I had to write them a private message, and that was technically chatting. Well, not really. We wouldn't talk back and forth or anything. I'd send him one little message in order to give them my email address.

That's like giving some random guy your number, Jess. Don't do it!

Then again, it wasn't the same as a phone number. I could easily change it if they turned out to be a freak. I'd just create a new username on AOL and LiveDiary. Job done.

No problem, right?

But I did make a promise to my grandparents. I swore not to use the Internet for anything other than research before I turned eighteen.

Did writing a single message to Ace for private research break that promise?

Too late for that! You're already blogging.

Not true! I'm researching asexuality. If anything that's more important than a debate about whether or not Massachusetts should legalize marijuana.

Way to find a loophole, Jess.

Man, I hated my stupid conscience. Always raining on my parade. Then again, it would be incredibly stupid to risk breaking my promise for the sake of waiting three weeks until my birthday.

Ugh, fine!

I'd wait until then before I got in touch with Ace. Come April 2, I vowed to message them with my email address so that they could send me that information.

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