As a child, I was raised Catholic, and I was taught that touching myself was a sin, but that was never the reason why I didn’t do it. As I grew older, I heard a lot of my friends talking about who they were attracted to and mentioning what they wanted to do with them. Every time I heard them talk about sex, I felt repulsed.

Much of the time we spent together as a group, we talked openly about everything, but when we talked about sex and it was my turn to talk, I lied, a lot. The time they were talking about touching themselves and how many times a week they did it, I was suddenly confronted with a lot of questions. I made the decision to tell the truth for once: “I’ve never touched myself, nor do I plan to.” They couldn’t stop looking at me as if I was damaged, and in that moment, I felt as if there had to be an explanation to why I’m so repulsed by the thought. I felt obligated to touch myself, and never liked it. I did feel aroused as a teenager, but I could never fully process it. It felt like blowing up a balloon with a small hole in it.

I can admire people. I think they’re beautiful, but that’s as far as I can go unless we have a connection, I have to feel like I’ve known you all my life, like we can talk for hours on end; if not, we can’t have sex. Throughout my teenage years, I obligated myself to have fake crushes just so I could “pass” as allosexual, to the point I did get chances to be with my fake crushes, and I never did anything with them. We just talked, that was honestly all I ever needed. The first time I did feel aroused nothing sexual actually happened. We just danced, and that made me feel so much I got scared because it was something I’d never experienced before. I was offered to kiss, and had sexual advances made on me. That was my “sexual awakening,” but I said no.

Eventually, when I was 18 my sex repulsion suddenly stopped with my current partner. Even though I liked pleasing them, I never touched myself or let them please me. I never felt like it… until I transitioned. When I started testosterone, everything changed quicker than I could’ve ever imagined. After two months I started getting these heavy urges to touch myself. When I finally did, I was surprised with what I found. I could finally find pleasure in my own body and feel like I want to have sex with my partner. I was surprised and excited because for once I felt like I was understood by my friends. Of course, that doesn’t mean I feel ashamed or wrong because I am ace.

I do feel sex repulsed, just not with myself (not anymore) or with my partner. Sometimes we want to be sexual, sometimes we just want to be in bed together and talk for hours. I will always be proud of being asexual and proud of my sex repulsion even if no one really understands; every time I start a conversation about my sexuality I ALWAYS say I am asexual. I get weird looks, questions, overall concern about my health; and the occasional “did something happen when you were a kid?” Yeah, something did, but that doesn’t influence my sexuality, I’ve dealt with my past, I’m living in the now.

Every time I’m faced with questions by my siblings in the LGBTQIA+ community, I always try to answer honestly by my experiences, without fear. Living in a small island in the Caribbean, where ignorance presides, it has never been easy; but I’m grateful for every step I’ve taken forward. The pride I feel is something my younger self could’ve never imagined, and I’m grateful to be able to have the opportunity to speak to others and help fellow aces know themselves more.