Sex is a bit like laundry
My colors? Black, gray, white, and purple
BY VISHALLI ALAGAPPEN
I was 14 when I first panicked about being gay. I don’t miss the vicious circle of staring at a girl’s behind for too long, catching myself, and promising to never do it again. Years later, I proudly walked into the collegiate chapter of my life with the labels asexual and panromantic; I rarely experience sexual attraction and experience romantic attraction regardless of gender. I always say I’m queer rather than delve into my specific labels and, oftentimes, lecture people on what they mean, just like how Carla from In the Heights says that she’s from Queens instead of explaining her ethnic ancestry that boils down to “Chile-Domini-Cu-Rican.” However, the downside to being vague is assumptions, and of course, people resort to stereotypes, i.e., “queer people are hypersexual.”
Since our sexual orientations seem to offend people, flaunting our sexuality is empowering. I feel a sense of belonging when I do the same. However, as I have become more comfortable with who I am, I find a disconnect between myself and queer spaces, even with society in general. I embraced my queerness, but I’m still lost; I resign myself as too different from others, and it’s an isolating conclusion to draw.
I, of course, turned to the TV for comfort. My lacrimal glands worked overtime when I watched Sex Education and heard Dr. Jean Milburn say to a distressed ace teen, “sex doesn’t make us whole, so how could you ever be broken?” Even though it was just one minute of relatively subpar on-screen ace representation, it made a world of difference to me. If we suppose that the slice of the media pie representing the queer community is 15%, then the asexual slice would amount to a generous 5% of the queer representation pie. I sometimes even turn to asexual bacteria for representation.
The isolating conclusion has somewhat resolved into an acceptance of this reality. Yes, I view sex as any other activity in a day, like walking to class or cooking dinner but I find it a chore like laundry. Laundry, unlike sex, is necessary for me though; I like clean clothes. Navigating an allosexual (antonym of asexual) world is a bit alienating, but I’m not too different. Just the right amount of different, I think.