A Tale of Self-Discovery...
…or, how an awkward date led me discovering something very important about myself.
Okay. Backstory time. From the ages of 12-16, I attended a teeny private school. And by teeny, I mean ‘freshman class had six people in it’. Between you, me, and What About Bob?, it sucked. But this isn’t about that.
One of my handful of friends left to go to a bigger school when we were fifteen, and at some point she convinced me to go on a blind date with some classmate of hers. Whatever, I say, because again, my school is tiny and getting any sort of date is just not going to happen. And because I did want to have SOME kind of Traditional Teenage Experience, I figure, what the heck? I’ll go. Why not.
So Friend’s Friend (FF) and I text a bit for the few weeks before this happens (read: I get the nerve to tell my parents that I WANT A LIFE so can I see a movie with a stranger). So he was only, like, a bit of a stranger. Eh.
We go to the movies, he’s all, ‘wanna make out?’ and I go (inwardly, because I’m not THAT much of a disaster), ‘THIS IS MY ONE CHANCE, IMMA DO IT’.
It. I. I was not impressed. It was actually sort of awful. So I did learn a lesson on how to be all, ‘it was great, we gotta do this again!’ with no intention of doing this again. But anyways. I go home feeling a little confused because making out is a thing, right, people are obsessive about it? Do I suck? Did FF suck? What’s going on? Disney lied to me! Disney, how could you? I was promised joy, not, ‘your tongue is gross and why are you breathing like at all’.
I Google ‘hate kissing’. Because what is Google for if not soothing confused teenage girls.
And that’s how I discovered that asexuality is a thing and it is me. So. FF, wherever you are, I’m sorry. But, uh, that movie theater makeout made me realize that I am really, really not into kissing anyone ever again. :/
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