I am agender.  To those who don’t know, that means I have no gender/gender does not apply to me.  I haven’t always known it, but I’ve sort of always felt it.

I’m just me.

Autistic Pride Day was first celebrated in 2005 by Aspies For Freedom (AFF), with June 18th picked because it was the birthday of the youngest member of the group at that time. Their intent was that it was for those that were both LGBT and Autistic to celebrate on this day. June is also LGBT Pride Month. I have a lot of pride in who I am as an actually autistic omnigender male-bodied individual. It was not always this way though.

I am a transgender woman. A human being. Why is it so hard for the vast majority of this archaic land of ours to understand and accept? Some people said I deserve all that comes my way. To be treated with contempt. I should accept regular bouts of sexual harassment in order for me to become a man. Apparently, to the ignorant among us, sexual harassment should not exist in the dictionary of a transwoman. We are sex mad. Men talk to me about sex, because they view it as chat between 2 men, male banter, even though they know I am a transwoman.

I want you to look in the mirror or your phone front camera. Not to sound passive aggressive but do it right now. Your hair might be short, long, or side parted if you're a millennial, dark, light, or a fancy ombre if you have the patience and funds. Are you wearing make up? Is your nose pierced? Are you due for a brow tint or perhaps you need to shave the mountain beard as it gets into summer? Do you like designer clothes or are you channelling your inner middle class 90s kid in plain baggy t-shirt and jeans?

I remember sitting next to my soon-to-be in-laws’ pool with my then-fiance, three days before our pandemic backyard wedding was supposed to happen in July 2020, realizing before I entered into a marriage, I needed to address something.

I was 20 years old when I realised I liked boys more than girls. I spent two years sifting through my mind’s eye to find the answer and there it was, in the beginning of summer lying face up on a trampoline. The nylon was cool on my thighs and I would get a whiff of WD40 with every silent thrust. No squeak, just recoil and hot breaths. We got the bouncing and thrusting to sync in a perfect tempo. I opened my eyes to the night sky behind him and my stars finally aligned.

On May 17, 1990, the World Health Organization declassified homosexuality as a mental disorder. That day is commemorated by International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia, also known as IDAHOBIT.

This is my 10^th year anniversary of coming out as a lesbian. Some things have changed in this time and some have remained the same. I am still learning about being part of the lesbian community, about myself and what it means to be a lesbian within society. There’s no instruction manual but there are a lot of opinions on how a lesbian should act, look and how they should label themselves. People ask what type of lesbian I am, and I tell them I am just me; I don’t wear a label.

It’s a complicated question. The allosexual may be worried that they will be denied something they value. The asexual may be anxious that they’ll be expected to do something they do not feel comfortable doing. Somewhere in there, a compromise has to made. One which is based in honesty and respect for each other’s point of view, regardless of whether their sexuality is widely shared or relatively rare. Yet so often the problem with Asexuality is that it is not respected, and that compromise is not asked, but expected.

Although I am 41 years old, I am very new to the concept of asexuality.  I have only very recently discovered, I am actually ‘Triple A’ – agender, aromantic and asexual.  As I am so new to the world of LGBTQIA+, I am not yet fully versed on the best language to use to describe my experiences; and please know that everything that I have written here is a description of my own experience, from my own perspective.  I absolutely believe that each person’s own experience and perspective is valid, and that any labels which that person feels that they wish to attach to their own identity or orientation are valid; as is the decision not to attach any labels.

My first insight into the asexual community was the banner of a Facebook group featuring a photograph of an intricately designed cake.  A chocolate cake, to be exact, slathered in purple and black icing reminiscent of the one I had for my birthday a few years prior.  The meaning of this image was soon to be explained to me by an admin: “Welcome to the asexual singles group, where we prefer cake over sex any day!”

As I sit here in my 33rd loop around the sun, with my so-called virginity attached to my being, I don’t exactly feel that I’ve missed out on any of those milestones one has growing up, you know, having a relationship, having sex, having that intimacy.

My first and only relationship, if you want to call it that, was in the end more of a situational comedy than anything else, and a rather dated and subpar one at that.

Before I get started, I need you all to know that this is just my personal experience. Everyone who has made it to my position has taken a different road from me and has experienced different stops and views along the way.

We live in a society that depends on a normal. Because of this, anything that deviates from this perceived normal should somehow be fixed, returned to normal and anything that deviates is inherently wrong or abnormal. But what is normal?

Unfortunately getting married and having kids was never on my radar, all the other girls were deciding the perfect names for their future babies and I was trying to figure out why I couldn't redecorate my bedroom with my art supplies.

If you look up asexuality, a quick Google search tells you that it is a sexual orientation whereby a person experiences little to no sexual attraction to anyone, nor the desire for sexual contact. In the words of Brunning and McKeever (2020), it is “the absence of sexual attraction”.

There’s been a time at least once in our lives where we were curious about one of our friend’s sexuality. We would then ask them if they were straight, gay, bi or pan… right? But have you ever asked them if they were asexual? Some of you may be thinking, what do you mean by asexual?

The human race is kind of fantastic in the way that we all have these amazing abilities and perspectives and ways of thinking. And yet, it's so easy to forget that the way we experience the world isn't how everyone experiences it. This is how I experienced the world as an asexual.

Everyone has a story worth sharing. Mine started with a google search, that led me to a single word. Asexual. That one word has broken me, healed me, made me finally gain consciousness. Part of me always knew I was different from others, I just couldn’t describe this absence of sexual interest when everyone else was expressing an abundance of sexual curiosity.