sometimes the blues is just a passing bird

these are the thoughts i have on being asexual and here is something close to a coherent presentation of them:

i feel like a phony or something, like i’m talking about it too much or playing it up for attention but that’s something i can talk to my therapist about next week

i feel so much better i just holy shit i feel so much better

i’m no longer worried that i’m internalizing some kind of sexual shame that i was raised with or that everyone else is ahead of me and more experienced and gets something that i don’t

i just don’t feel a need to pursue anything sexual - romantic, yes, sexual, no, to be clear

the worst, most hideous and embarrassing but also hilarious part about this is that the first thing that clued me in was a dumb rewrite of emma by this author my mom likes named alexander mccall smith and he totally didn’t mean to write emma as asexual for the first few chapters (before accidentally writing her as gay and ultimately still forcing her into the straight plotline ugh) but he totally did

i spent at least twenty minutes trying to find this tweet, but here is the genesis of this moment: https://twitter.com/cameronfryedfsh/status/822107608630824960

it’s just i cannot describe what a relief it is

and what it’s like to read something and be like ‘wait fuck that’s me’