By Hongshi (she/her)
For a really long time, I thought I was normal.
I suppose that’s a universal experience, to create a baseline of normality off your own life because you don’t realize there could be something different. This was true for me in many aspects of my life, sexuality (or lack thereof) being only one part of a complete picture.
Being introduced to the wider aspec community has given me the opportunity to be the audience to dozens and dozens of stories of people like and unlike me. I always listen to these stories with rapt attention and fascination, because storytelling has always been the most effective medium for me to understand someone’s history, someone’s life. And these stories were always unique; common threads unified them, but they were ultimately as diverse as you would expect a group of people and their life experiences would be. So not seeing my own story directly reflected in many of these stories I bore witness to was something I was very okay with.
But some of these common threads I had noticed gave me pause. “I thought I was broken,” some people would say. “I thought I was incapable of love” or “I wished I could fix what was wrong with me.” And these thoughts frightened me, because for all my questioning and self-doubt, I had never hated myself for being asexual. I never wished I wasn’t ace. Not once. And that’s because I have never understood what it meant to be something other than myself.
That’s not to say that internalized aphobia isn’t something I grapple with. Nor is it to say that I feel secure in my identity or that I am gentle with myself. I have enough self-hatred to drown a small nation, and I’m unsure whether that’s something I will ever be able to overcome entirely. But my issues with myself are informed by the fact that I know precisely who I am and what I want. I know who I am. And that the person I am isn’t necessarily good, or loved, or valuable.
These stories, however, planted the seeds of doubt. Should I not only be ashamed by the inconvenience I caused by being who I am, but wish that I was inherently different? Was I broken? Was I so damaged that I didn’t even realize how damaged I was?
But no. That’s not the message. Finding a label that fits should be a moment of joy because it is an affirmation that you are known, as all parts of you, in some way, to the greater world. It’s not about fighting some kind of inherent brokenness, explaining away a gaping hole in the self––I was already whole. We all were already whole. It’s just that sometimes the world tries to tell us that we’re not, and it permeates so deeply that the people who are told that they are broken begin to believe it, and then those around them believe it.
Once, I read a story about accidental gaslighting, about toxic affirmations and how they can shake the foundation of the self as fundamentally as any other cutting words. I think my experience with the aspec community has taught me to be mindful of what kind of assumptions I make when I try to bring comfort to them. Sometimes people do need to be told they’re not broken, and affirm their wholeness. Sometimes they need to be treated normally as they would anyone else. Sometimes they just need a damn hug.
I know I’m not broken. I am instead going on a journey to convince myself that there is joy and unity in difference, and that my identity can be as big or as little of a deal as I want it to be, whenever the question may arise. Life is a performance––and sometimes I want to be center stage, streaking my face with purple and white and screaming at the top of my lungs and daring the world to try and ignore me now. But it’s okay to just be an audience member, too, and clap for the brave, and keep pushing forward in your own way.
It’s all about moving forward. My progress isn’t linear, but I’m trying, and will keep trying, and I’m moving forward because of it, and I’m in a good enough place to help others along the road too. Thanks for listening to a part of my story. And, friends, come find me if you want affirmations, or a normal conversation, or your damn hug. I’ve been told I’m pretty cuddly.
You can find Hongshi on twitter here!
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