Asexuality is a Range: Understanding Intimacy and Orgasms in a Partnership
Her Story: Understanding Her Non-Sexual Nature
A 37-year-old woman: “I’ve not once enjoyed sex. Growing up, I thought flawed as people put it on a pedestal.”
The only topic that Cameron and I have ever disagreed on is our sex life. Upon getting together nine years ago, sex was clearly something he desired on a regular basis than I did. Around half a year of being together, we chose to pursue a non-monogamous setup so that he could pursue individuals who are more sexual than I do.
Initially, there were moments of insecurity at first, but our relationship was strengthened due to open dialogue, and I grew to feel really secure in our bond. It’s been a huge blessing for both of us, because I’ve never loved sex. Growing up, I thought incomplete since others put it on a pedestal, but I couldn’t understood the hype about it.
Upon finding an asexuality resource on social media recently, it was like looking in a mirror. I was shocked, as previously I considered myself a a person who enjoys sex – I like to masturbate, and I experienced a fair amount of sex during my twenties. But I think I had those encounters due to the fact that I experienced shame – an effect of growing up in a world that teaches us it’s necessary to satisfy your partner.
This information helped me understand was that asexuality is a broad spectrum. To illustrate, I experience no sexual desire, regarding people who I find very aesthetically pleasing. I appreciate their appearance, but I do not wish to have sex with them. But I enjoy having orgasms. To me, it’s enjoyable and it provides relief – a means to settle everything on my mind upstairs.
This was extremely empowering to tell Cameron that I am asexual. He understands. We sometimes have sex, as I sense deep connection and bonding with him during those moments, and I am choosing intentionally when I desire to connect with him through that act. It isn’t that I have a physical urge, but I have alternative purposes to engage sexually, for example desiring emotional intimacy. I see his pleasure, and that gives me pleasure. In the same way that an individual who is not asexual can decide to abstain, I am able to choose to engage in intimacy for other reasons than being turned on.
His Perspective: Love Outside of Physical Intimacy
Cameron, 36: “Just because sex isn’t central doesn’t mean that love isn’t.”
Sex used to be a high priority to me. It was the source from which I derived plenty of my confidence. I was ill and in the hospital frequently in my youth, so intimacy turned into a practice that I believed gave me control regarding my physique. It then really change upon getting to know my partner, as physical intimacy wasn’t the central focus for us.
Alongside her, I discovered greater worth in alternative areas of myself, and it shifted focus away from sex. I have no desire to be intimate with anyone else anymore. If I ever feel a desire for physical connection, there exist alternative methods I can manage it. Self-pleasure is a possibility, but it can also be a long walk, thinking about my thoughts or watercolour painting.
When Sarah discovered this part of herself, I came to see that intimacy is primarily about bonding. This can occur via physical intimacy, but as well as through other methods that are similarly important and fulfilling. I once had a set understanding of what asexuality was – if sex was absent, you would not experience desire. But it varies widely, and it takes time to determine where you stand on it.
Our relationship has lasted for almost a decade, and simply because intimacy isn’t a priority is not a sign that affection isn’t. Making specific time for that is very important for both of us. At times we work on complex building kits and do them a little bit every morning, which is really intimate. Alternatively we enjoy a special night and go out for a mocktail and a pizza. We embrace and discuss futures ahead, which is an act of love. I experience great joy from preparing meals for others, and it makes me very content in a kind of afterglow of sex.
Her identity has enlarged the concept of our bond. It is similar to limiting the options you have to work with – you must be more creative with what you have. It encourages you to consider in different ways. But it did not lessen the bond that I experience for Sarah at all.