I was halfway through an excessively heated response to you when I took a shower and came back to realize that it was a stupid idea. So I wrote this instead.
I have a genetic inability to gain pleasure from tickling and experimentation with Martians. In fact, to me, blue Martians sting almost as much as green ones. I was told for most of my life that even if I didn’t like it that I was morally required to put up with a Martian because at least /they/ got pleasure out of the deal. Which meant that if it was going to hurt anyway I may as well make a green Martian happy, even if I hated every minute of it.
Then I read about some humans who, like me, simply don’t have the receptors for the blue Martians’ chemicals. The people who told me this was possible told me, by analogy, that I didn’t have to give a damn about any Martians if I didn’t want to. That I could just tell all of them that I had that genetic defect and that this was a completely valid reason to make Martians not tickle me, regardless of color. Most of them understand. The ones that don’t, I try to keep to only seeing in public.
Then there are the ones that try to convince me that I’m making my genetic defect up. Those people are not always green Martians—they may even be humans—but they’re the kind of people who, as far as I am concerned, did a pretty good job of convincing me that I should shut up and get with the program. I don’t want that for myself anymore. I can do better.
I carry scars from this experience, though they are not even close to the majority of my total scarring. I am prone to interpreting remarks that humans should give green Martians a chance as remarks that I need to get with the program, climb into the mothership with the first Martian that will take me, and lie back and think of England. Which is probably not what you intend or what you want.
(In case it wasn’t clear, the genetic defect I refer to is asexuality, specifically aromantic asexuality. There are also closely related conditions where people get pleasure from tentacle tickling but not from experimentation, and vice versa.)
I was halfway through an excessively heated response to you
I think this is just as symptomatic of the greater problem as my own whining is.
The greater problem: Just because I need love, and companionship, and yes even sex, doesn’t mean you have to be the one to give it to me. There’s a large enough dating pool out there that, if I’m not deliberately attacked whenever I try to figure out what I’m doing, I’ll eventually figure this out and find someone interested in me.
And just because you want to be left alone and not bothered with all this romantic / sexual bullshit doesn’t mean I have to stop wanting, or acknowledging that it’s frustrating and painful to not get what I need. There’s enough stable, secure people out there that, if you’re not constantly harassed by pushy assholes, you’ll eventually find a good circle of friends that won’t bother you about that sort of shit.
But every time someone reacts with viciousness to someone else stating their needs, they undermine their assertion that those needs are not their responsibility.
Look, if someone is asexual, and aromantic, I’m flat-out not going to be interested in anything but friendship with them. The initial signals just won’t be there to get my attention. If they give off confusing signals (being extra-flirty, sexually provocative, etc. with me and then assert that they’re not interested in me), I’m going to express my confusion in various stages of escalation until I finally feel like I’m being duped and inform them that I can’t be friends with them. But at no point in this process does ‘stop doing what you want and put out for me’ come into it, and it’s sad that so much of the landscape is made up of that assumption.
Not All Women Are Like That. Not All Men Are Like That. Why is it that when sex and romance enter the picture, everyone doubles down on their need to stereotype instead of just paying attention to the damn environment?
I was halfway through an excessively heated response to you when I took a shower and came back to realize that it was a stupid idea. So I wrote this instead.
I have a genetic inability to gain pleasure from tickling and experimentation with Martians. In fact, to me, blue Martians sting almost as much as green ones. I was told for most of my life that even if I didn’t like it that I was morally required to put up with a Martian because at least /they/ got pleasure out of the deal. Which meant that if it was going to hurt anyway I may as well make a green Martian happy, even if I hated every minute of it.
Then I read about some humans who, like me, simply don’t have the receptors for the blue Martians’ chemicals. The people who told me this was possible told me, by analogy, that I didn’t have to give a damn about any Martians if I didn’t want to. That I could just tell all of them that I had that genetic defect and that this was a completely valid reason to make Martians not tickle me, regardless of color. Most of them understand. The ones that don’t, I try to keep to only seeing in public.
Then there are the ones that try to convince me that I’m making my genetic defect up. Those people are not always green Martians—they may even be humans—but they’re the kind of people who, as far as I am concerned, did a pretty good job of convincing me that I should shut up and get with the program. I don’t want that for myself anymore. I can do better.
I carry scars from this experience, though they are not even close to the majority of my total scarring. I am prone to interpreting remarks that humans should give green Martians a chance as remarks that I need to get with the program, climb into the mothership with the first Martian that will take me, and lie back and think of England. Which is probably not what you intend or what you want.
(In case it wasn’t clear, the genetic defect I refer to is asexuality, specifically aromantic asexuality. There are also closely related conditions where people get pleasure from tentacle tickling but not from experimentation, and vice versa.)
I think this is just as symptomatic of the greater problem as my own whining is.
The greater problem: Just because I need love, and companionship, and yes even sex, doesn’t mean you have to be the one to give it to me. There’s a large enough dating pool out there that, if I’m not deliberately attacked whenever I try to figure out what I’m doing, I’ll eventually figure this out and find someone interested in me.
And just because you want to be left alone and not bothered with all this romantic / sexual bullshit doesn’t mean I have to stop wanting, or acknowledging that it’s frustrating and painful to not get what I need. There’s enough stable, secure people out there that, if you’re not constantly harassed by pushy assholes, you’ll eventually find a good circle of friends that won’t bother you about that sort of shit.
But every time someone reacts with viciousness to someone else stating their needs, they undermine their assertion that those needs are not their responsibility.
Look, if someone is asexual, and aromantic, I’m flat-out not going to be interested in anything but friendship with them. The initial signals just won’t be there to get my attention. If they give off confusing signals (being extra-flirty, sexually provocative, etc. with me and then assert that they’re not interested in me), I’m going to express my confusion in various stages of escalation until I finally feel like I’m being duped and inform them that I can’t be friends with them. But at no point in this process does ‘stop doing what you want and put out for me’ come into it, and it’s sad that so much of the landscape is made up of that assumption.
Not All Women Are Like That. Not All Men Are Like That. Why is it that when sex and romance enter the picture, everyone doubles down on their need to stereotype instead of just paying attention to the damn environment?