Trying To Fix Myself

Content note: this story contains talk about rape.

Marten, male, 27, Canada.

When I was in high school I was pretty busy with school work. When I got to college I became crazy busy. So much work to do, it was crazy overwhelming. I figured I would start to try to date: I had never tried to date before, after all, I had all this crazy school work done. I figured I had to be straight since I found girls cute sometimes, but not very often at all, and I had gotten a bit into drawn pornography.

When school was at last done my life calmed down, and what with everything slowing down I figured I would bump into someone cool that I wanted to go out with sooner or later. But that never happened.

I kept bumping into people, but my life stayed pretty simple and nobody struck me. One day, at the age of 24, having never kissed a girl by this point I figured, okay, something is off here. I told myself I had to be straight cause I liked the idea of sex, and I felt some women looked alright. Of course I liked the idea of sex, but there was nobody I wanted to have sex with. I kind of ignored that part.

I joined a dating site for the sole reason of getting a girl and stopping being this forever alone guy. The first girl I went out with I decided to date. I just wanted to be with someone, anyone, so I could tell myself I was like everyone else. She quickly suggested that we take our relationship to the next level. I said sure. I liked the idea of sex after all and she was nice and meant well, and I wanted to be like everyone else. Of course I wasn’t into her that way, but I ignored that part.

So we tried it out, and she broke down, cried, and told me about how she was raped. She was dealing with post traumatic stress disorder due to what happened to her. She said we shouldn’t try to do anything physical again, I said sure. Whatever made her happy. I kind of went along with whatever she wanted. I wanted this to work. I didn’t want to be alone forever, I wanted to be in love, cause everyone else told me how great love was.

But, I wasn’t the only one trying to fix themselves. It wasn’t long before she suggested we try again, and I, just wanting this relationship to work, (’cause I figured this might be the only relationship for me) went along with it again. She broke down again and then we started going into a loop.

The more it happened the more I told myself: ‘it’s not the fact that she was raped, it’s the fact that there is something wrong with you. She can sense it and thinks you’re a freak.’ This feeling grew and grew until it was overwhelming. We hit a point where our relationship was nothing but two people trying to have sex to be just like everyone else, and failing miserably.

I ended the relationship. I couldn’t take it anymore. Two weeks later she called me up and told me how she slept with her new boyfriend and she didn’t feel any post traumatic stress from it. She said she only felt that with me.

That was the last nail in my coffin. I told myself then that there was something horribly wrong with myself and she sensed it and that’s why things didn’t work. It was my fault, I was broken. I decided I had to fix myself. I told myself if I just had sex I would like it and then these feelings would stop and I would be normal. I joined a hook up site, I started asking people out on dates at random, I started to try and have a sex fantasy about every girl I met.

I had a complete break down.

I had to see a psychiatrist to help me deal with the pain and confusion. He figured it was self esteem and I was trying to have sex to up my low self esteem. So we did self esteem exercises. It was a long process and I slowly got better. I deleted my account on the hook up site before I met up with anyone. Thank goodness.

A year past, I met a girl, we went out. I had the time of my life and I loved hanging out with her. She quickly became my best friend, but just a friend. And that’s when it really clicked for me. Why was having a friend so bad? Why did I have to fall in love? Why did I have to have sex? I didn’t want to have sex, and I’m still not sure if I want to fall in love. Why was I trying so hard to change myself when simply making a friend felt so good?

At that moment I told myself: ‘if I have more fun making friends then I should just make friends. I want to be happy for once. I don’t want to fix myself.’

A year after that I took a big breath and looked up asexuality. I had heard of it before but always felt it couldn’t be me because I liked the idea of sex. I liked to fantasize and such, but there was nobody I wanted to have sex with. I loved thinking of sex, just not when it was about me, or people I knew.

After actually reading up on what being asexual was though, I at last said it. I’m not straight. Sure, I’m turned on a bit by sex itself, but I’m not sexually attracted to anyone. I’m not supposed to want to have sex. And maybe I’m not supposed to want to be in love either.

On that day I stopped trying to fix myself and for the first time since the age of 24 where I decided to start my silly quest of trying to find true love, I actually started really enjoying life again.

I’m done trying to fix myself. I’m more happy now then I’ve ever been. I’m asexual and you better believe I’m proud.

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