As the new owner of a gay blog, it is only fitting that I tell the long and exhausting story of how I realized I was very, very gay. 

I saw a TikTok from a friend at the time, probably sometime in the early fall of 2020. In the caption it said she was bi. And my immediate super straight and normal thought was, “I wish I was bi. I wish I could come out.” 

Yeah. A very straight person thing to think.

My sexuality crisis began during the start of my junior year of high school. 

Do I like girls? 

That was the age-old question. I knew I liked boys. I had in the past. Heck, I had been on two dates with a boy I genuinely liked. I was, and still am, certain it was not comphet. The weeks passed as I spent my nights laying in bed questioning my sexuality in the comfort of my room, alone with my thoughts. Eventually, I would settle back into the idea that I was straight for a week or two, only to end up questioning that again. I was terrified of claiming to be a part of a community that faced so much oppression, only to later come to the conclusion that I was wrong.

Here are some of the things I spent my time thinking about:

Could I like a girl romantically? 

Am I straight, or has society just forced me to believe I am? 

Physically, I could kiss a girl. But would I actually enjoy it? 

I knew I liked boys. 

Was I bi? If I was bi then I might as well be pan or omni. 

I was 17, shouldn’t I know by now?

Do I want a girlfriend? 

I could call myself bi-curious, but do I really like labels? 

I felt like I related to the queer community. Did I relate to them, or their beliefs and values because they lined up with my political ideology? 

If I liked girls, I definitely had a strong preference for men. 

After about six months filled with many informational YouTube videos, research, and ‘Am I Gay?’ quizzes, I eventually figured out that gender didn’t matter to me. What I really wanted was to be in love. (This definitely has to do with my asexuality and sex-aversion, I just hadn’t realized it at the time.)  Not labeling my sexuality felt like the most comfortable option, as well as occasionally calling myself queer, all in the safety and judgement free zone that was my head. 

We can thank social media for opening my eyes to queer people and the beauty that is the gay side of TikTok.

Here are a list of things that made me realize I was in fact, not straight at all:

– Girls are very pretty. 

– I realized all of the people I wanted to get close to throughout my life, or thought were cool, are queer.

– I had a phase in middle school where I loved rainbows and unicorns. While the unicorn phase did eventually fade away, my love for rainbows lasted. This was definitely a subconscious comfort with the pride flag and what it stands for. 

– I wanted to dress gay. Flannels, cuffed jeans, Converse. I was aware of the fact that that was not a very straight person thing to do. I didn’t need straight people to know I was queer, I needed to walk down an isle at the grocery store and know other queer people knew I was one of them.

– I was a very passionate ally.

– I watched practically all of the queer documentaries on Netflix.

– I read LGBTQIA+ books because I found them “super interesting that people had such different lives than me.” Subconscious queer awakening? I think yes.

Spoiler alert: straight people aren’t obsessed with gay people.

As time went on I began to realize I liked boys less and less. One day I thought about marrying a man, and was utterly disappointed at that thought. I texted a friend about this, and she responded with, “Oh no. That’s very gay.” My boy preference was gone, and was left with a minute liking of them, now with a very strong preference for people who were not men. 

During this crisis there was a very pretty red-headed girl I began to crush on during my junior year, but taking online classes made it easy for me to avoid confronting my feelings.  When we returned to in-person learning, I did in fact like her. Yeah. A real crush on a girl. No denying I was gay. We can ignore the fact that I only spoke one sentence to her. 

Eventually that crush faded towards the end of the school year, leaving room in my now empty brain for an asexuality crisis.

During the summer was when I revealed to my sister that I had been crushing on a girl during a late night talk while on vacation with our best friend. Now she knew, as well as my best friend who I had previously confided in. However, I still hadn’t told my only other queer friend about my crush on the red-head! Once back from vacation, I told her all about it while sitting on her front porch, and we had a true heart to heart about our experiences as queer individuals. 

After this conversation, the lists began. 

There are some things that are only in person conversations. I began to start writing lists of my own thoughts, opinions, confusion, and topics I wanted to share and discuss with my queer friend, who is asexual and aromantic, as well as into girls. Let me tell you, my lists were long and plenty. Every few months we would sleepover or get together and go over a new list I had created. She often agreed with everything I had there, oftentimes giving me unintentional good advice, while managing to say everything I needed to hear. 

Through these lists and conversations with another ace person, I came to the conclusion that I was asexual due to the following  reasons:

– I had no clue what sexual attraction was.

– I related to other ace people. 

– Sex was something I never thought about actively doing, and if I did, it was something I would do later in life.

– If I had sex, it would be very vanilla. I had no reason to want more.

– One night as I laid in bed, I woke up with a start. I had a realization that I had never wanted to kiss a crush. Heck, I had never thought about doing anything slightly sexual with the few crushes I had previosuly had, which I was certain was not what most people felt.

– I wanted to be friends with my past crushes. Hold hands. Cuddle. It had never crossed my mind to do anything past that. 

– Other labels such as bisexual or lesbian didn’t feel right because they suggested a relationship that involved sex or sexual attraction.

– It had never occurred to me that people had genuine celebrity crushes, and took the idea of a hall pass seriously.

– If I thought of a sexual situation it never involved myself, and always two made up characters I created that had the possibility to turn into a short story or novel, as I’m clearly very into writing.

It was extremely helpful to know another ace person during this time, and I’m eternally grateful to be able to have come through my journey with this friend. Also thanks to these chats, I became a huge fan of lists, as they are clearly the best way to organize one’s thoughts, so they must appear in every blog post. You’re welcome. 

In the spring I eventually came to terms with using the label asexual, and came out to my friend, who I had promised would be the first person to know if I ever labeled my sexuality. 

Since then I have become more comfortable with the label asexual, as well as other terms such as gay or queer.

This aroace friend of mine eventually turned into my Queer Platonic Partner, where I noticed my attraction to her was platonic as well as romantic. I began to label my romantic orientation as alterous; a desire to be emotionally close to someone that is neither exclusively platonic or wholly romantic. 

After saying all of that, I really don’t focus on labels. Calling myself ace has become something I am comfortable and confident in. (Clearly, I started a whole blog about it.) If someone asked, I could describe my romantic attraction, however I don’t feel an overwhelming desire to focus on it. 

Okay. It’s quite exhausting to relive all of my gay confusion. To any baby gays or aces reading this, I hope it was slightly helpful. And remember, labels are tools to use to help you feel comfortable in your identity, you can use whatever labels you want, or none at all. ❤

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