Imagine that the Chairman of the High Committee on Conformity sends you a letter that says, “In this area, you have carte blanche.” That’s how I felt when I discovered asexuality as an identity.
I only came across the term in this usage about eighteen months ago after reading a post by a blogging friend of mine in which she identified herself as an asexual. Wanting to understand what this means, I googled “What is asexuality?” and found the website for Asexuality Visibility and Education Network (AVEN).
As I began to look through the website, what I read felt familiar. More googling brought me to an article in the Asexuality Archive titled “Possible Signs of Asexuality.” I identified with nearly all of points. Suddenly, much of my social awkwardness and many of my feelings of being out of step with the mainstream–of somehow not understanding the unspoken language that nearly everyone I knew seemed fluent in–made sense.
Having come to this term in the second half of my life, and having been very fluid in terms of my identity throughout my life, I still sometimes wonder, Am I really asexual? But the term as an identity means simply that one doesn’t feel sexual attraction for other people. I don’t think I’ve ever known what sexual attraction is. This makes it hard for me to know if I’ve felt it, for I’ve felt all sorts of other attractions. I’ve discovered, though, that it is quite common for asexuals not know what sexual attraction feels like or means.
I’m a romantic. Nearly every day, I fall in love, in an Aimless Love sort of way: with a leaf, a cloud, a hummingbird, maybe another person. The other day, I fell in love with a palo verde tree. A few nights ago, I fell in love with a small toad. Today, I fell in love with a breeze and with my boyfriend’s jokes.
I feel attracted to people: spiritually, personally, emotionally, intellectually, and aesthetically. But sexual attraction isn’t something that registers with me.
Living in a society which pushes sex, especially through the media, but also through all sorts of experts–experts in physical health and well-being, experts in happiness and mental health, experts in self-expression and personal freedom, and experts in how to live life to the full–and having been a child during the sexual revolution, I’ve sometimes felt that I should try to fit in with the whole thing better. That’s why learning about asexuality feels liberating. I’m healthy as I am, expressing myself and my energies the way I want to.
As a Simmer, I find that who I am informs the way I play the game and the way the game responds to me. One of the aspects of the Sims that I most love is that it functions through adaptive intelligence–this means that the game is shaped by the way the player plays it. So it’s little wonder that many of my Sims are asexual. Getting to know these Sims and their ways of responding to their interests and to others has helped me learn more about myself.
This week, as part of Asexual Awareness Week, I’ll feature four asexual Sims that appear in the stories on this blog. I hope you enjoy learning more about them!
If you’d like to learn more about asexuality, please visit the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network, AVEN.