Pride

LaVieEnRose

I usually finish but work before Cameron does–nice thing about working for tech bros is they all like to get home and do…i don’t know, whatever the fuck tech bros do–so I was already at his apartment by the time he got home, drinking a whiskey lemonade and working through Real Housewives episodes he’s always bitching I let pile up on the DVR. He came in and dropped his shit on the counter, then came over to the couch and started crawling his way up me.

“Excuse me,” I said.

He kissed me. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I ordered groceries,” he said. “They’ll be here in an hour. And I got the stuff to make that shrimp linguine you love.”

I adjusted myself under him and rested my hand on the back of his neck. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I figured afterwards we could watch a movie, have a few drinks…”

“I, uh.” I reached for my phone. “I was actually going to go out to the bar for a few hours. See Justin and everyone. He just texted.”

“Oh.” Cameron doesn’t usually come when I go out with Justin’s friends, since he doesn’t sign. “We can do the shrimp tomorrow.”

I gave him a quick kiss and got up. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t stay out too late,” he said. “Not giving up on all those plans.”

“Ha. Yeah.” I went over to the hook by the door and put on my jacket. “I might just go back to my apartment after, I don’t know. I’ll let you know.”

“You know,” he said. “You wouldn’t ever have to go back to your apartment if your apartment was here.”

“Ha. Yeah. I’ll text you.”

I walked to the subway, my hands in my pockets, cursing the knot in my stomach with every step.

Why do you do this?

Why do you ALWAYS do this?

Some guy catcalled me outside the station. I got on the train.

**

Daphne and Derek had just gotten home from their honeymoon, so we were kind of celebrating them being home, even though they’d only been gone for a week. We don’t really need an excuse to go out. Brian had to stay late at the office taking care of, I don’t know, some kind of advertising emergency, and Gwen was with the baby, so it was just me and Emily and Evan and Justin and Derek and Daph. Justin was sitting on the pool table making out with Evan, and Derek went to the bar to get more drinks. The music switched to this song that had been fucking everywhere lately, something about how if the singer didn’t have sex with this guy right now she’d like die, or something.

God, I hate this song, I said.

Me too, Emily said, and I shoved her and she laughed. What is it?

I pulled up the lyrics on my phone and handed it to her. It’s just stupid, I said. The other day I started like…paying attention to how much music revolves around sex. And it’s weird. It’s weird to talk about one thing that much. And it’s not just music, it’s movies, TV, it’s fucking everything.

What’s wrong with sex? Emily said.

Nothing. I just think it’s objectively strange that everyone is so focused on this one thing. There are so many things out there that are like…so much better? And it creates this expectation that it’s going to be the best thing in the world.

Emily gave me kind of a funny look and sipped her drink. I can’t think of anything I like more than sex.

No, come on.

She shrugged.

Seriously?

What’s not to like?

I don’t know, the expectation and the obligation and it’s just…it’s fine. I don’t get what the big deal is.

Do you have orgasms? Daphne asked me.

Eventually, yeah. I like orgasms. But it’s a lot of work to get ten seconds of that. I can do it a lot faster on my own, and without having to…you know. Do all that crap to someone.

Daphne was doing a more sensitive job of it, but they were both kind of looking at me like I was growing a second head.

Is it your favorite thing? I asked Daphne.

She thought about it. Sometimes. I mean, sure, I’m not always in the mood. Sometimes I think I like the anticipation more than actually doing it. You know, thinking about it, dirty talk, foreplay. That can be the best part.

Yeah, that’s good shit, Emily said.

Derek came back, so we changed the subject, and I tried to act normal but mostly just sat there feeling…lied to, I guess, is the best way to describe it. Lied to by Emily and Daphne and by these stupid songs and by the almost ten years at that point that I’d been sexually active. I couldn’t figure out why everyone was so fucking committed to keeping up this myth that sex was incredible and transformative and life-defining when it was at best fine and so, so incredibly not worth the constant nagging sense of obligation.

I used to have sex because it made me feel cool. .

I guess I thought that’s why we all were doing it.

I looked at Evan and Justin all the fuck over each other on the other side of the bar. Laughing, gripping each other.

When we were packing up to go, Daphne put her hand on my arm and said, “How well do you know April?”

“Uh, not very well, I guess. Why?”

Daphne nodded slowly. “I think you should text her. Talk to her about this stuff.”

“What stuff?”

She just shrugged, but then she said, “Maybe google ‘asexuality,’ too.”

I started with that one, obviously, after I made some excuse to Cameron about how it was getting late and I was just going to crash at Justin’s house. Brian was home, and maybe he could tell I was kind of in a mood, because he pecked at me a little, asking me condescending questions and making fun of my clothes the way he does when he wants you to know you’re being watched, but after I blew him off and he shrugged and took his wards off to bed, I crawled between the covers in my room and searched on my phone for a while.

Whatever moment of clarity Daphne was hoping I’d get definitely didn’t come, probably because nothing I was reading really made any sense. Everything seemed like it contradicted itself. Asexual people don’t like sex, except some of them too. Okay but they don’t crave sex, except wait yeah some of them do. Okay, so they just don’t experience sexual attraction, and honestly when I looked deep down into my little heart I didn’t even know what the fuck that even meant. How the hell was I supposed to know if I experienced that? Is that just something everyone else knew?

I put my phone down and lay on my back, looking up at the ceiling.

What the fuck did any of this matter, anyway? Why did I need to find some word to describe not being obsessed with something?

I thought about Brian and Evan and Justin, curled up together a few rooms away in their shared bed because they can’t stand to be away from each other. How fucking deliriously happy the three of them were. How Justin risked everything as a teenager because of Brian–because he loved him, sure, but at first just because he couldn’t keep his hands off of him. I mean, God, Justin broke out of our homophobic house when he was seventeen to go find a stranger to have sex with.

And it had taken me this long to figure out that there was something I…wasn’t getting? Didn’t have?

I picked up my phone. I didn’t have April’s number, but I followed her on Instagram. I scrolled through her profile. A million pictures of her and her friends, playing in their band together, shooting fashion shows. Pictures of her and Justin and her and Evan. Cute selfies. Her dog. Stuff she’d baked. No boyfriends, from what I could tell, or girlfriends.

I took a deep breath and messaged her.

**

I met April a few days later at a Korean barbeque place in Forest Hills. We made small talk for a bit, talking about the process of learning to sign and laughing about our various ASL mishaps, mostly, and then I finally said, “Can I ask you a question?” because, you know, why beat around the bush. No pun intended. Oy.

“Ask away.”

“Are you asexual?”

“Oh, who knows.” She sipped her drink. “I’m not much of a labels person. I just do my own thing.”

“Does that…thing include sex?”

“Not really. Sometimes I’m really drunk and there’s someone nice around and I convince myself it’ll be fun.”

“Is it?”

“Not really.”

“I’ve had a lot of sex,” I said. “Like…I’m not, you know, Brian, but I’ve slept with plenty of people. And I think maybe…I’m not gay. It’s not that. I slept with a girl once. It was…I don’t know. The same.”

“I tried that too.”

“Did you grow up feeling different?” I said. “Because I didn’t…think I was different. It was like, I was waiting for something to hit me and for it all to make sense and for me to get obsessed with sex, and then that didn’t happen so I just figured okay, that’s something they made up to make movies more interesting or whatever and I started having sex and I figured everyone was just…I thought I was the same as everyone else.”

“I guess I kind of knew,” she said.

“I didn’t know.”

“You don’t have to claim an identity in order to not have sex, if that’s what you want,” she said. “You can just not have sex.”

“But I don’t want to be…God, what is it I don’t want to be, uncool? I’m fucking pathetic.”

“Nah, I get that. Society and shit.”

“I keep picturing Brian,” I say.

“Brian is pretty much the polar opposite of asexual, yeah. I want to write a paper on him.”

“He’d think I’m a freak. He’d feel sorry for me. He’d think I need to be…fixed, or something.”

“He might be feel bad for you that you don’t love something he loves,” she said. “But he’d come around. No one’s really reacted that badly to me. Which, I should clarify, is information from a small sample size, because I don’t tell a whole ton of people.”

“Oh. Should Daphne not have–”

She waved her hand. “No, it’s fine. It’s not a secret, it’s just not really anyone’s business. And whether or not you have sex doesn’t need to be anyone’s business either. Or what you decide to call yourself, or not call yourself. We’re not morally obligated to march in parades.”

“What if I’m not sure?”

“Nothing’s set in stone. Try it out for a while, see how you like it.”

“I don’t want to let people down,” I said, softly.

She nodded a little, her eyes soft. “That’s probably what got you here, huh?”

I swallowed until I could say. “The thing is…I just want to be normal. I want to want what other people do. And I don’t want to have to explain myself to anyone.”

April reached across the table and took my hand. “That’s a shame,” she said solemnly, and I laughed and wiped my eyes.

**

So I sat with it all for a few weeks. I tried having sex and tried being really…intentional about it, really tried to be in the moment, tried to focus on Cameron in front of me instead of disappearing into my head. I went to the therapist I’d seen on and off since Justin got really sick and talked to her about it. I met with April again. I read God knows how many articles and forum posts and finally I felt…I don’t know, if not at peace, at least something kind of next door to it.

But I couldn’t shake this feeling that I wanted approval, and trust me, I tried. I do a decent job of acting like I don’t care what people think, but…I was raised in the Taylor household, after all. I give the old college try fighting against all that shit, but conformity was still baked into me like a nice demiglace. Or something.

Specifically I wanted Brian’s approval, and I realize needing your brother-in-law to sign off on your sexual decision is abnormal and I need to be examined, but…it also kind of makes sense, right? If you have someone close to you who bases their entire fucking, like, persona off of something, you want it to beo kay with him that you’re rejecting that, right? Because if he says it’s okay, that must mean it’s really okay.

I was over at their house having dinner about a month after I’d had that first conversation at the bar. Gwen was out of town somewhere, so Evan was staying over at Emily’s to help with Jane, so it was just me and Brian and Justin. Justin had been having a lot of trouble with his hand and he was worn out and probably hurting from that, so dinner was kind of quiet, but it was nice. We had this family vacation coming up, Cancun with Mom and her new boyfriend, so we were talking about the logistics of that, making plans, speculating about the boyfriend, shit like that.

Eventually Brian got up to bring some dishes to the sink and I said, I want to tell you guys something, simcomming since Brian’s back was to me.

Are you breaking up with us? Brian asked over his shoulder.

I mean it, I said, and Brian turned to face me, leaning against the counter, his eyebrow arched.

“Is everything okay?” Justin said.

Everything’s fine. I just…figured something out recently, and I want to tell you guys. And it’s not like, something that you need to know. But I want you to know it.

Brian wiggled his fingers a little, kind of like an okay…?

I’ve been doing a lot of reading and a lot of thinking about it and I think I’m not going to have sex anymore. At least not for a while.

Brian said, What’s a while?

I don’t know. It’s indefinite.

Why the fuck would you do that? he said. Are you sick?

No, I’m not sick. I just realized that I don’t really enjoy it and I’ve just been doing it because I feel like I’m supposed to.

Brain snorted. Sounds like Cameron’s not all he’s cracked up to be.

Cameron’s great. This has nothing to do with that. This has been going on a lot longer than he’s been around.

How long? Brian said.

My whole life. Or as long as I’ve been having sex, at least. I kept waiting for something to click and it never did. I looked at Justin, but he was just watching me, not saying anything.

Meanwhile Brian sauntered to the table and sat back down. This is probably the part where I’m supposed to ease you into the idea that you might be a lesbian, but let’s speed it up a little. Welcome!

I’m not a lesbian, I said. I’ve tried that, it didn’t work either.

You had sex with a woman and didn’t tell us? He shook his head sadly. Hate crime.

Can you listen to me, please? This is important.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Listening.

I’m still working on the labels aspect of it, but I think I’m probably asexual, I said. Like April. Who I assume has at least talked to Justin about it. I looked at him again.

He shrugged a little and said, Yeah, she has.

Okay then. So that means…I don’t feel attracted to people the way other people do. I don’t want to have sex with them. And at least for me it means I don’t really enjoy it while I’m doing it.

Brian said, How the fuck do you not enjoy sex?

I just don’t, I don’t know.

It doesn’t feel good? Physically? It’s sex.

Yeah, I get it, it’s your entire personality.

Brian kind of paused and frowned and crossed his arms. Looked away at me, over to Justin.

And I felt like a huge asshole. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

He shrugged.

I’m sorry. It’s not. I’m just…trying to explain this, sorry. I took a deep breath. Yes, it feels good, but so do…I don’t know, sleeping and bubble baths and cookie dough ice cream and laughing until it hurts and like, a million other things, and none of them come with this astronomical pressure and expectation and obligation. And I do, you know, own a vibrator. All the fun, none of the hassle.

Okay, but it’s more than just the sensation, right? Brian said. Otherwise we’d all just jack off.

I don’t really get why we don’t.

It’s about…being in the same place as someone, he said. Being completely in the same moment as someone else at the same time. Feeling them on you. Knowing they want you. I don’t know. Connection and shit.

See, I don’t like the idea that people want me, I said. That’s always really just…grossed me out, I don’t know. Turning people on makes me feel like I’m wearing some kind of costume or something, it’s not me. And honestly? I don’t feel connected when I’m doing it. I feel like I’m doing all this work to try to do something for someone else which, I’m sorry, isn’t fun for me and makes me kind of uncomfortable. Like…do you like giving blow jobs?

“Of course.”

I don’t get that at all. I get nothing at all out of it. It’s just obligation. I’m sick of it. And there are a million ways to connect with people besides sex.

Yeah, but–

No. Deep, meaningful, maybe romantic connections, without sex. I mean…can you maybe think of an example of that?

Brian started to say something, then stopped. He pointed at me, slowly.

There you go, I said.

And slowly, he nodded. Yeah. Yeah, okay. You got me. I’m on board.

I laughed without meaning to. Yeah?

Yeah, I mean… He shrugged. Pretty compelling argument. I do like that kid a lot.

And then Justin said, “Brian,” like he was pissed.

I turned to him. Oh, you have something to say finally?

Justin wheezed out a sigh. I think you’re jumping to a lot of conclusions and closing yourself off to a lot of things, that’s all.

I’m not talking about welding my vagina shut, Justin, I said, and Brian snorted. But this isn’t something I decided today. I’ve been uncomfortable my whole life.

So why didn’t you say anything, if you were that uncomfortable? It doesn’t make sense.

I just wanted to be normal, I guess.

You are normal, Justin said.

Brian held up a hand. You don’t really like when people say that to you.

Excuse me?

I’m just saying, when people pull the ‘I don’t even see you as disabled, Justin!’ thing, you’re not a fan.

She’s not disabled, Brian.

I didn’t say I was, I said.

Brian sat back with a shrug. I just thought you might want to rephrase, that’s all.

Justin gave him a long look, then turned back to me with this condescending expression I wanted to slap right off his face. Listen. You’ve had some awful trauma with people you’ve dated. I know that.

This has nothing to do with that.

I don’t think you can know that, honey. How do you know this isn’t a reaction to that? I think maybe you’re afraid to open up, and that’s totally natural.

That’s not what this is.

I think maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet, he said.

Wow. Wow! Maybe you just haven’t found the right girl yet! Fuck you!

Brian sighed. Guys…

No! I said. Fuck you, Justin, Jesus! You’re supposed to support me!

I’m trying to help find a solution.

I’m not fucking broken, I said, standing up. And you know what? None of this is your fucking business anyway, I just thought maybe you might be interested in what’s going on with me and maybe have my back through something like I have yours But whatever. Okay. Good to know.

Molly.

Fuck you, I said, and I cried on the subway all the way home.

**

Justin texted me a few hours later asking if we could talk, but I ignored him because fuck Justin. So I wasn’t really surprised when he showed up at my apartment the next day.

Still, fuck Justin. I don’t want to talk to you.

Yeah, I don’t blame you. Can I come in anyway?

No.

What if I tell you I’m here to apologize?

I kind of figured that part out.

Okay…what if I tell you that there are very few situations in which one person is completely, entirely, a hundred percent wrong, and this is one of them?

Getting closer. You mean you, right?

He rolled his eyes. Move, he said, and I stepped out of the way and let him inside. He let Martha off her leash and she hopped up on my couch and curled up in a little ball.

Did Brian make you come? I said.

Justin sat down. “No. Though he did chew me out, you’ll be happy to know.

Kinky, I said, and Justin rolled his eyes. I was worried he’d think I was a freak. Guess he saved all that for you.

He shook his head. “That’s not it. Sit with me?”

I did, but I kept glaring at him.

He said, “The way I acted and the stuff I said was shitty, and I’m not trying to make an excuse for that. You came to us with something really personal and important and I acted like an asshole.”

No arguments so far.

He propped his elbow on the back of the couch and looked at me. “I think it freaked me out to think that all this time you’d been having these sexual experiences that you didn’t want to have. I didn’t want it to be true that people have been…” He cleared his throat. “That people have done things to you that you didn’t want them to do. And I didn’t know and I didn’t stop it.”

It’s not like that, I said. Nobody took advantage of me.

“I need to not make it about me that you’ve been unhappy. But it kills me that I didn’t notice. And that…maybe I set this example that pushed you into this, made you think you had to go out and fuck people just because I was.”

I don’t really pay that much attention to you, I said, and he nudged me.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he said.

What, by fucking your boyfriends everywhere? I don’t care. I’m not allergic to sex. People can have it in my, you know, vicinity. I guess preferably not my brother. Okay, final answer, yes, stop having sex to make me more comfortable.

He rolled his eyes. “Look. You have to tell me things, okay?”

Because you take them so well?

“I usually do!” He covered his face. “I have to know what’s going on so I can protect you. And I didn’t know this was going on and I know, I know, it’s not like you were keeping some secret from me. But I can’t believe I didn’t see something. That I didn’t take care of you.”

Is this you not making it about you?

“Apparently this is as good as it gets, yeah.”

I’m okay, I said. I don’t need you to retroactively stop me from ever having sex. I’m not traumatized. I’m just exhausted. Okay?

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I just…” He sighed. “I wanted you to have an easy life, and now you have to do the coming out thing. You weren’t supposed to have to know what this part’s like.”

I don’t know, I said. I think it’s different. You always knew you were different. I thought everybody felt the same way as me and nobody wanted to say it. It’s like…getting a bucket of cold water poured on me, or something. Like this whole time I’ve been oblivious to what the world actually is. I shrugged. I need to figure out how to move on from that.

“What’s going to happen with Cameron?”

God. I don’t know. We’re having conversations. I’m sure we’re going to have a lot more.

“Fun.”

Yeah, it’s a blast.

“Well…you’ve got me. Okay?”

I know. Thanks.

“And if anyone gives you shit, you tell me and I’ll beat them up.”

You’ll send Brian to beat them up.

“Well, one of the two.” He tilted his head to the side. “How do you feel?”

I feel… Scared. Unsure. Embarrassed.

Loved.

I feel free, I said.