Posted by: asexyfeminist on: November 1, 2009
In my last post, I theorized that relationships rely on one of two things: proximity and work (which could also be called effort, or commitment). So what happens when two people who became friends at school or work or through some other activity lose that proximity? In what situations do we work to maintain the relationship, and in which do we abandon it?
When relationships work/when we work at them:
1. We both find the relationship fulfilling (as DJ said in the comments on my last post) and feel a special connection that we feel has a meaningful place in our lives.
2. We each feel invested in the other person’s life and automatically feel compelled to keep in touch and support the other person through whatever they’re going through.
3. We feel that spending time together is worth prioritizing above at least some of the myriad ways we could each be spending our time.
4. We have activities that it’s important for us to do together as opposed to with other people or alone.
When relationships don’t work/when we don’t work at them:
1. Both people get lazy and don’t make time to contact the other person, even though we always enjoy the time we spend together.
2. Only one person makes the effort to stay in touch and make plans, until the lack of reciprocity leads them to give up.
3. There’s no specific motivation to contact each other or do a particular activity together, or to prioritize seeing each other above the myriad other ways we could each be spending our time.
Maintaining a strong relationship doesn’t feel like work. However, if I’m the only one putting in the effort, or neither of us is, it does feel like work. In these cases, I feel like the fate of the relationship is in my hands, and I need to remember and decide to contact people and try to make plans with them. My motivation here is different than in the examples up top; I am working to keep in touch because I feel that the relationship has potential and I should nurture it–and that if I do, I can help it grow into something meaningful and self-sustaining. This isn’t nearly as strong a motivator as the reasons above, and most of the time it does not actually motivate me to take action.
In my next post, I will discuss online friend-dating, which has produced most of the relationships of this variety–ones that did not develop naturally through a shared environment, activity, or group of friends, and that require a conscious effort on the part of both people in order to survive and progress.
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: October 29, 2009
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the ways relationships form and what keeps them going. Most relationships are initiated due to proximity–two people being in the same place at the same time, generally over an extended period of time. The internet has mixed things up a bit, so that we can meet people with similar interests whom we never would have encountered in real life, but we’re still more likely to become friends with our classmates, co-workers, and neighbors than with most people we don’t regularly spend time around.
What I’ve come to realize recently is that most relationships also require proximity in order to keep going; in other words, most of the friendships I’ve made through school, work, and other activities have been abandoned once I stopped going to school or working or doing whatever with those people. This has often happened despite the fact that we had a lot in common and really enjoyed each other’s company when we were involved in the same things.
Therefore, the necessary element when there isn’t proximity to keep the relationship going is work–both people have to have an active desire to work at maintaining the relationship. This means taking the time to keep in touch and get together. It amazes me how many friendships just fade away because people get busy and just don’t prioritize keeping in touch with their friends. Sometimes, both people are equally responsible; sometimes, one is willing to do the work and the other isn’t. There have been many times when I kept contacting and chasing down and trying to hang out with a formerly good friend, only to give up on the friendship after I finally realized that I was the only one trying. It was depressing to know that I would probably never hear from them again once I made the decision to stop trying.
In my next post, I’ll look at the different motivations behind working to maintain a relationship.
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: October 25, 2009
I’m going to try to get into the habit of posting regularly again. I have a lot of things I want to write about relationships, but right now I’m just going to share a pop culture observation.
I had heard about Britney Spears’ song “If U Seek Amy” and how the title is scandalously meant to sound like a word that can’t be said on the radio, but I didn’t actually hear the song until the other day. The verses make no sense because they’re about this Amy character, whose real purpose is just to be one letter out of four, and the chorus goes, “Love me, hate me, say what you want about me, but all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy.” Get it? I found this statement to be quite interesting. She’s certainly not the first celebrity to make a “love me or hate me” statement (the most recent that comes to mind is Lady Sovereign), but instead of telling the haters that she doesn’t care, or saying that it doesn’t matter because she’s rich and famous, or (as Lady Sov did) cursing them out, she brags about her sexual attractiveness. I think this doesn’t make a lot of sense and is kind of sad. Is that all Britney’s songwriters could come up with for her? That no matter what bad things people say about her, they are somehow negated by the fact that people want to have sex with her?
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: October 4, 2009
Over the past year, while my understanding of asexuality has developed, the way I think about all of my relationships has evolved as well.
You know how when people talk about dating, they often talk about “deal breakers,” the qualities or habits that make them call off (or not want to enter into) a relationship? These are often small, ridiculous-seeming things that they would never hold against a friend, but for some reason find unsuitable for a partner. Since I am not looking for one person to be my perfect everything, I find it possible to appreciate each person and relationship for what it is rather than holding any of them up to a highly specific set of standards for the “right” person and inevitably being disappointed.
But at the same time, I often end up disappointed anyway, because I’ve raised my standards for what I expect from each of my friends in terms of how they treat me and show that they value our relationship. I want each relationship to be meaningful and worth both of our time, and just as people who are dating often want to be clear as to whether they are “in a relationship,” I have found it increasingly necessary to know whether or not someone is my friend, and to see it as an all-or-nothing thing the way people view romantic relationships. I’ve developed my own set of expectations, of “deal breakers,” that I think most people wouldn’t apply to people they are “just” friends with. I don’t care if any given one of them is taller or shorter than I am or snores or likes the same sports teams, but I need to know that each of them is committed to the maintenance and growth of our relationship, and that they won’t drift away and abandon me whenever they’re in a romantic relationship. But my expectations have just set me up to get let down again and again, and then to let go. It really frustrates me that while it’s normal and expected for people in romantic relationships to discuss their relationships, I’m pretty sure that if I attempted to have a similar “state of the relationship” conversation with a friend who had disappointed me, I would be seen as crazy, as imagining myself as and/or wanting to be that person’s girlfriend, when that wasn’t the case at all. I don’t have a framework for making demands, for fixing things, because I haven’t earned that right by being their primary person–we never actually made a deal either of us is obligated to uphold. So instead, frustrated and insulted, I walk away, wondering why it has to be that way.
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: September 26, 2009
When discovered my asexuality a year ago, I saw the word heteroromantic and figured it must apply to me; after all, I have occasionally felt attracted to guys over the course of my life and have been in a long-term relationship with one. And I figured that even though I didn’t ever want to have sex with anyone, I would still want romance at some point, and be forced to navigate the pursuit of it–a complex thing for asexuals in a sexual world.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized romance wasn’t actually a goal of mine. While it may be intriguing and dramatic and fun, I see it as being unsustainable and separate from the types of relationships I really want in the long run. In my experience, romance is the butterflies and excitement and flattering mutual admiration at the beginning of a relationship (or the beginning of something that never goes anywhere), but it’s not a characteristic that I see as necessary or even possible (for me, at least) in a long-term relationship of any kind.
I have learned that the distinguishing characteristic of the relationships I seek (whether friendships or partnerships) is commitment. Not commitment that requires a ring or a vow or even an explicit declaration, but a mutual and unshakable feeling of being committed to each other’s happiness. It’s about a feeling of “I care about you. I will always be there. I won’t abandon this.” So I’ve reached the point where I know that I won’t be too disappointed if I go the rest of my life without having any romantic interludes, as entertaining and ego-boosting as they may be, because if I can have the less flashy but safer comfort of true understanding and companionship, that’s enough for me.
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: September 19, 2009
So I’ve been neglecting my blog over the past month, and I just realized that in the meantime, I missed its first birthday! It’s hard to believe that a year has passed since I discovered my asexuality and started Edge of Everywhere to explore my thoughts and share my journey. Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll try to make a series of posts summarizing what I’ve learned and how things have changed for me in the past year. In the meantime, thank you to everyone who has read and commented on my posts. Having an outlet for sharing my experiences and connecting with other asexuals has been invaluable to me.
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: August 18, 2009
From the comments on my last post about the Cuddle Party phenomenon, it sounds like these touch-oriented workshops, while emphatically non-sexual in nature, aren’t necessarily so ace-friendly.
That got me thinking: sexual people have access to endless amounts of books, magazines, workshops, and other resources about all aspects of sex and relationships. What kinds of books, workshops, or other informational resources do you wish the asexual community had? I’d love to know the secret to erasing the friendship/romance boundary and bringing non-sexual affection into close friendships with a minimum amount of awkwardness. What else?
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: August 8, 2009
I recently found out about the phenomenon of the Cuddle Party, “a playful social event designed for adults to explore communication, boundaries and affection.” A bunch of strangers pay to go to a trained facilitator’s house, put on pajamas, go through exercises dealing with the aforementioned topics, and spend a couple of hours sharing non-sexual physical intimacy and affection. Participants must ask each other and receive a verbal “yes” before hugging, cuddling, giving massages, or engaging in any number of other types of physical contact.
I totally agree with their belief in the value of affectionate touch, but just as hooking up sexually with a stranger just for pleasure makes no sense to me, cuddling with a stranger just to enjoy the sensation doesn’t make sense to me either. I can only understand physical contact in the context of a close relationship, whether it’s with family, friends, or a partner. I mean, isn’t affection about liking and caring about someone? I just don’t get how people can take a shortcut to intimacy without actually knowing and liking each other.
The other thing that struck me about the Cuddle Parties is that their site spends a lot of time convincing people that cuddling can, in fact, be non-sexual. It also acknowledges the inevitable presence of sexual energy and arousal (including erections), and talks about how those are dealt with during the parties. Interestingly, a major rule of the parties is “no dry humping.” It was fascinating for me to read about non-sexual touch from a sexual perspective, because I generally forget that things like cuddling could ever be construed as sexual or seen as necessarily leading up to sexual contact.
I’m curious to hear everyone’s opinions on the Cuddle Party phenomenon. Great idea, or just kind of creepy? Have you ever gone to one? Would you?
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: August 1, 2009
The more I think about it, the more I hate the word “virgin” and wish it would just go away. Long before I came to identify as asexual, I was uncomfortable with the heteronormative nature of the concept, and was aware that it was irrelevant for non-heterosexuals. Sexual people of various orientations can and should redefine and reclaim the idea of being or not being a virgin in whatever way makes sense to them and fits with their idea of what sex is, but opting out of the dichotomy altogether is more complicated.
Since I do like guys in some sense, people (particularly heterosexual guys) often put together the ideas of “straight” and “virgin” and can’t seem to get their heads around the idea of heterosexual virginity being a state that does not necessarily ever need to change. They assume I am attainable, and occasionally delude themselves into thinking they will be the first to attain me. The idea of women who like men but don’t want to have sex with them just does not exist for most people. I don’t like admitting that I am a virgin for this reason, but don’t want to say that I’m not, either.
Posted by: asexyfeminist on: July 16, 2009
Regardless of sexual orientation, all people have egos, and anyone can get jealous. I have an old friend with whom I have always enjoyed a flirtatious dynamic and the knowledge that he is attracted to me. When he got a serious girlfriend, we saw each other less often, but when we did, our dynamic was unchanged and I was still able to enjoy the innocent flirtation and validation of my attractiveness. However, his girlfriend eventually got really jealous and complained about his tendency not to introduce her to his female friends, so he promised to introduce her to me and we all went out with some other friends.
Even though I never had the slightest bit of interest in being with him, it pained me to see him shut off the way he usually acts around me, interacting with his girlfriend in a way that made it clear she was special to him and with me in a way that showed I wasn’t a threat to their relationship. I realized that many of the things that normally seemed natural to us, like sitting close together or sharing a drink, suddenly seemed impossibly intimate and inappropriate with her in the room. Those things were reserved for her, and it hurt to realize that.
It soon became clear that the only way to continue our friendship and eliminate his girlfriend’s jealousy would be for me to embrace her and be friends with them as a couple. But I don’t think I can do that, because I realized that my enjoyment of our friendship was based not only on his great qualities as a person and the interests and beliefs we share, but also on the particular type of closeness we shared and the way he made me feel attractive and special. I have to admit that despite our long history, without those things, I’m not sure what it would mean for us to be friends at this point, or if I want to try.
