Asexual identity is a Continuum: Navigating Intimacy and Pleasure within a Partnership
Her Journey: Embracing Her Asexual Identity
Sarah, 37: “I’ve never been fond of sex. In my youth, I believed defective since people put it on a pedestal.”
The sole topic that Cameron and I have clashed over is our sex life. After meeting in our late twenties, physical intimacy was certainly something he sought on a regular basis than I wanted. Following half a year of dating, we decided to try an open arrangement so that Cameron could seek out individuals who desire more intimacy than I am.
There were pangs of envy in the beginning, but our bond was deepened thanks to our strong communication, and I came to feel really secure in our partnership. It became a huge blessing for both of us, because I’ve never truly enjoyed sex. Growing up, I felt incomplete since everyone else put it on a pedestal, but I never fully understood the hype about it.
When I stumbled across an asexuality resource through a post a while back, it was an eye-opener. I was taken aback, as at that time I identified as a sexual person – I enjoy self-pleasure, and I’d had a lot of sex during my twenties. But I believe I had those encounters due to the fact that I felt guilty – a hangover of my youth in a culture that tells us it’s necessary to please your man.
This information taught me was that asexuality is a diverse continuum. As an instance, I experience no sexual desire, including towards people who I admire visually. I admire their appearance, but I don’t want to engage sexually with them. But I appreciate reaching climax. In my view, it’s fun and it’s a nice release – a means to clear out everything on my mind mentally.
This was very freeing to tell my partner that I identify as asexual. He accepts it. We continue to engage in intimacy, as I feel deep connection as well as bonding with him during those moments, and I am making the conscious decision when I desire to bond with him physically. It isn’t that I have a libido, but there are different motivations to have sex, like seeking connection. I observe how much he enjoys it, and that brings me joy. Similarly that an individual who is allosexual can choose to be celibate, I am able to choose to have sex for other reasons than feeling arousal.
Cameron's Viewpoint: Romance Beyond Physical Intimacy
A 36-year-old man: “Just because intimacy isn’t central is not a sign that romance is absent.”
Sex used to be super important to me. It was the source from which I gained plenty of my self-worth. I was sick and in hospital frequently in my youth, so sex turned into a practice that I believed gave me control with my physical self. That started to transform after meeting Sarah, as physical intimacy was no longer the top priority for us.
In this relationship, I began seeing greater worth in other parts of who I am, and it reduced the importance of sex. I do not wish to engage sexually with anyone else now either. Should I have a desire for physical connection, I have other ways I can handle it. Masturbation is a possibility, but alternatively a long walk, considering what’s on my mind or creative expression.
When Sarah discovered her asexuality, I began to realise that attraction is focused on shared feelings. This can occur via physical intimacy, but also through alternative ways that are similarly important and fulfilling. I once had a specific idea of the meaning of asexuality – if you didn’t have sex, you never feel arousal. But it’s a spectrum, and it requires patience to understand your place on it.
We’ve been together for nine years, and simply because sex isn’t the main focus doesn’t mean that romance is lacking. Making specific time for that is really essential for us. Occasionally we work on these adult Lego sets and build them in small portions each day, which seems deeply bonding. Sometimes we plan a date night and go out for a special beverage and a pizza. We embrace and make plans down the road, which is a form of care. I feel a lot of pleasure from preparing meals for others, and it leaves me very content like an post-intimacy feeling.
Her identity has broadened the understanding of what our relationship means. It’s like reducing the options available to you to work with – you must be more creative with what you have. It pushes you to reflect from new angles. But it never reduced the bond that I feel for her in any way.