Cheers, I just figured out the origins of ALL my sexual hang-ups, and I’m posting them here because I dunno where the fuck else I would do that. CW for rape, CSA, will try to add more as they come up; obvs nsfw.
Okay, so not to be that guy, but it totally started when I was like twelve. That was when I started manipulating online strangers for their undivided attention. Problem was, the strangers were anywhere from five to... eleven?... years older than I was when these things occurred, and the attention was frequently sexual in nature. I effectively groomed myself by letting this happen because I felt very much in control, and yeah, I know now that is a terrible configuration of words to say, but that’s how the story reads.
The in-person sexual abuse began almost immediately after I turned sixteen, unless it began earlier than that and I just forgot about it, because that seems pretty plausible and I’m starting to forget when I actually met him*. If you’re reading this, you already know who it was and probably everything that happened, so I’d rather just not talk about it more than that.
(*pretending to come out as nonbinary was a move explicitly played by him to get on my good side, so we’re dropping that act in 2018.)
Anyway, I “let” that happen because of the grooming, not because I wanted the attention or the control. That was one time in my life when I felt pretty damn out of control and pillbuggy. I stopped consciously allowing the online abuse to happen after sixteen, but this person wasn’t out of my life until recently.
The only* crushes I can remember having in my childhood were fake shit - people I was fond of because of The Narrative or because I’d otherwise gotten it into my head that they liked me and I really wanted that attention to never stop. Yes, even that crush, which you might remember; someone put a rumor in my ear once that he liked me, so I latched the fuck on like some sort of parasitic worm. Thank god that was never actually reciprocated.
(*I had one real crush that I know of 100% for sure, and we dated for a little while several years after high school, and it was good, and that was that.)
And then I kept doing the parasitic worm shit, and I kept going for people online, except this time they were my age and quite nice and I didn’t even realize I was doing basically the same bullshit that I did from twelve to sixteen. In doing so, I fucked over a lot of really, really nice people, including people for whom I developed legitimate caring- or caring-adjacent feelings, all because I decided now and then that I had to have this new person’s attention. I still tend toward this, and I’m trying really hard not to let myself do it anymore.
So... sexual hang-ups. Have I been procrastinating this part of the post? Ha ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
There is a one-to-one correspondence between the things done to me by Shithead and the things I don’t like doing with people in real life! Holy shit, Batman; literally no one could have foreseen this. And you know what’s even balmier? The things those other pricks said to me on The Internet in my youth are now things I don’t like, uh, what, “sexting” about (scope that fucking swerve of a plot twist)! I’m also less okay with those things in real life, but not to the extent of the completely and utterly fucking ridiculously basic bullshit I can’t stand anymore thanks to Shithead.
So, that’s cool! And I could only come to this realization once I became less attached to the idea of asexuality. I still kinda cling to that conceptually, but I became one of those label-hating queers so frequently reviled in the ‘tens, so it doesn’t bother me as much to say that all of my asexuality “symptoms” (lack of better word) are, as far as I can tell, entirely trauma-spawned.
Would I still ~be asexual had none of this ever happened? That’s the beauty of this bitch we call the Linear Narrative; I have no goddamn idea.
I don’t want to try sexual therapy, or whatever it’s called, because I don’t even really like the idea of sex, and wherever THAT problem comes from, it’s deep-rooted enough that I don’t especially want to change it. Also because that probably involves the interference of at least one stranger, and wow, have I mentioned lately how little I trust strangers? Or anyone?
Worth noting that I’m also not innately good at sexual things. Bad gag reflex, distaste for certain sensory input, little stamina, no elasticity, scant experience, chronic pain. List goes on. I don’t like doing things at which I’m not innately good. I also hate bodies, being reminded that I’m stuck in one, and being reminded how gross I find them. This must all be quite shocking to you.
Anyway, I wouldn’t be making this post had I not realized in the middle of jacking off the weird correlation between the things I don’t like and the things forced upon me in the past, and the fact that I don’t mind any of those things when other people aren’t involved at all (Gemini Mars and Lilith in retrograde, doing their jobs). It was an uncomfortable realization, circumstances given, but damn, am I pumped about it now. Everything makes sense! I have been irreparably altered! Gee whiz.
Congrats on making it through this post. Everything else in my life is fucked up, too, and I need a hug, and now, you might also need one of those.
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