Tag: asexual

Rejecting Labels, Dismantling Desire, Poetry Publications, & Other Life Updates

It has been many, many moons since my last blog post. And that’s not to say I haven’t had one sitting in Google Docs 80% done for the past four months. Because I certainly have. I just haven’t brought myself to finish it for whatever reason. I, of course, have still been writing lots. More than ever actually. It’s my senior year of undergrad so not only have I been writing for classes, I’ve been applying to grad schools and writing my thesis: a poetry collection on asexuality, queerness, desire, and taboo amongst other things. 

Maybe I’ll have to do a rundown of the best books and poetry collections I’ve read. But that of course is for Future Jadey to decide. 

Last year at this time I was unpacking comphet and deep in the journey of my Lesbian Renaissance, coming to terms with lesbianism and the fact that I wasn’t attracted to men. And shocker, here’s an update on that – I’m not a lesbian. Listen. Did I spend months thinking about that label, adopting it, and working through comphet? Yes, obviously. Was all of that completely necessary? Yes. But as I kinda figured I would do, I decided labels aren’t for me, and un-labeling my romantic orientation and using queer as a broad term makes me feel the most comfortable and seen in my identity. 

Do I resonate with aspects of lesbianism and the lesbian community? Yes. I’m still going to use the label lesbian for convenience, but in my little gay heart, I’m not one. The label lesbian feels too limiting. I have the capacity to like a wide range of people, just not cishet men. 

Part of this discovery was through dating my genderqueer partner, and being with them – dismantling gender norms and existing as just a person – has allowed me to feel perfectly at ease with not being boxed in. The same thing has resulted for my gender, where I may use she/her pronouns and be perceived as femme, on the inside I’m just a person existing who doesn’t need labels to define or box in the many experiences and nuances I feel around my identity. 

Being with my partner has also allowed me to reevaluate desire and my asexuality. Even as well-versed in ace knowledge as I am, I realized I was boxing myself into a preconceived notion of asexuality. By this I mean that I had it in my head what I was and was not comfortable with. How I wanted to show intimacy, what desiring someone meant. As I got older I wanted to explore that more, but a lot of it seemed like a hypothetical. 

Now, I find that I am stripping my understanding of my asexuality down to the very basic definition. Asexuality means experiencing little to no sexual attraction. While before that was closely tied to how I understood what I did not want, I am now reversing that idea, and understanding my asexuality through what I do want. To me, this means exploring physical intimacy in a way that feels right to me. Maybe what most would perceive as a sexual act actually feels romantic to me. Maybe I feel most connected with my partner through conversations surrounding our queerness – a part of that being how we physically interact with each other. Additionally, I’m accepting the fact that I could desire things that are seen as sexual. I can want physical intimacy and closeness even when I don’t experience sexual attraction. To put that idea to an analogy – I can still eat even when I’m not hungry. I’m also learning how huge a role aesthetic attraction plays in my desire. 

There are things I never thought I would be comfortable with that I now do and enjoy. And it feels so freeing and exciting to learn these things about myself. For example, if you’re an avid reader of the blog you may recall that for a long time I’ve been opposed to kissing on the mouth. There was something about it that just wasn’t for me. It made me uncomfortable, I didn’t see the appeal, and frankly, it seemed gross. And I often complained about this, because I so badly wanted to be an asexual who kissed. For many reasons. Because it was a “normal”  thing to do. Because it seemed fun. Because it seemed romantic. Anywho. I never thought I’d actively want to kiss someone. And you know what, now I’m dating someone who likes to be kissed. And guess what, now I like it. Now, I don’t get “sparks” or “butterflies” like I do when I’m kissed on the cheek or somewhere else. I’m not begging to be kissed on the mouth. But I know my partner likes it, and it makes them happy, and that alone makes me enjoy it and want to do it. 

A lot of factors went into this new kind of thinking. The first obviously being the relationship I have with my partner, the safety and comfort I feel with them, and the desire to explore and experiment with someone I love. Simply getting older, wanting to try new things. Conversations with my friends revolve around sex and relationships and I’ve always taken such an interest in intimacy and desire I wanted to further explore it within myself. 

While this may sound like I’m exploring what could be deemed “sexual” I am not at all saying I’m not asexual. In fact, this makes me more confident in my asexuality, and excited to explore it further. While before I searched for other aces talking about their experiences as sex-repulsed or sex-averse, I’m now interested in sex-neutral to sex-favorable ace experiences to understand different perspectives and see how they resonate with my own identity. 

A few baby updates not long enough for their own post:

I listened to this podcast called Velvet, a fictional narrative about a woman coming to terms with her newfound asexuality and understanding “what it means to experience pleasure beyond sex.” She discusses desire with her allo friends, attends an ace group, and even goes to a Shibari class, which was my favorite episode and by far the most interesting. I wasn’t blown away by the writing, but it was so relatable, and covered so many pieces of the ace experience. This was awesome to listen to as an ace person, and I think would be really informative for allo people wanting to understand asexuality more. 

Click here to read a poem I got published:  I Wish I was a Riot Grrrl Magpie Zine 

This was my first publication outside of my university, and a poem I’m really proud of! My bio is on page 61, and my poem on page 62. 

Anywho. It feels good to be back on the ol’ blog. It’s also been really nice understanding more about my queerness and exploring who I am and my relationship to love and romance. See y’all later. 

Dismantling Heteronormative Ideas and Timelines in Queer Relationships 

Seven and a half weeks into knowing my partner I texted my friends and asked them if they would disown me if I told my partner I loved them. “Jadey. You’re telling us you are so down bad for your partner that you couldn’t even wait two months to say ‘I love you?’”  Well, um…yes. Thankfully my friends said they wouldn’t disown me and if this was something I wanted to do and say first then I should do it. 

Now, listen. I like to think I’m a pretty rational person. I am not one to Google questions that will lead me down a rabbit hole. I’m not going to Google my symptoms and convince myself I have cancer. I’m not going to ask Google if I should quit my job or move across the country. However, clearly I was desperate because about two weeks prior to this text conversation I was Googling “when should you say I love you” because the fact that I was feeling this way towards my partner had me feeling completely irrational and insane. However, Google honestly didn’t have terrible advice. Google said to wait at least two months and to probably meet the parents and to not feel pressured to say it. And honestly that’s pretty logical advice. However, I of course completely ignored it. 

I am the kind of person to trust my instincts. I trust my gut feeling and I feel confident in myself to make smart decisions. However, this situation made me feel insane. Everything about our relationship has been moving at the speed of light. My partner met almost all my friends on our second date. Three weeks in they met my parents. Less than two months in I said “I love you.” To say we were moving fast was an understatement. But then again, fast to who?

I had been basing these milestones off of preconceived societal norms for dating. And who makes these “rules?” Straight people. So that got me thinking. This whole system and rules around dating and love is based on heteronormative expectations and ideals. And I even told my friends in my flustered text chain “why worry about traditional relationship timelines” in order to convince myself I wasn’t crazy. So today we’re going to dive into these traditional relationship ideas and talk about how I’m dismantling them and re-learning in order to have the loveliest, most fulfilling life possible. 

  1. Chrononormative Timeline

Chrononormativity is the expectation that everyone follows the same timeline for life events. This suggests there’s a “right” time to get married, have kids, etc. But it can also be small events like how many dates you’re going on, labeling the relationship, planning future events, etc. This can create feelings of anxiety and stress from external and internal pressure. This kind of mindset can be toxic for all people, not just gay people. In fact, there is probably more pressure on straight couples to abide by this timeline because queer couples are already defying the status quo. They have more leeway to not abide by these rules because they’re already seen as doing the “wrong” thing (in the eyes of a patriarchal society). 

That’s to say that I’ve been working on not allowing heternormative and societal norms to slide into my relationship and make me feel pressured to do certain things at certain times. And in fact, even though I have not been dating my partner for very long, and the speed at which we’re moving is a lot to grasp at once, I feel perfectly secure and at ease with it. “Jadey, why is that?” you might be wondering. That’s because my partner and I are on the same page. When I asked them to be my partner after three weeks, and when I said “I love you” seven weeks in, I felt with full confidence that I would be met with enthusiasm and reciprocated feelings. This timeline works for us, so it doesn’t matter if it’s “too fast” or if we’re doing the whole dating thing “wrong.” The basis of our relationship is already so queer based on our sexualities and genders that it feels ever queerer and right to go against these timelines and create our own rules. 

And honestly, following a certain timeline has no logical sense. Why wait a certain amount of time to make things official or meet the parents? If it’s something important for you to do early on, or if it’s important for you to wait a long time, do it. Following these expectations and hitting these “milestones” really only benefits capitalist ideals. Of course the patriarchy and capitalism want you to get married and have kids to produce more workers and nuclear families because it benefits the system!

  1. Gendered Behaviors and Expectations

I’m less reflecting on this topic and more including it for a conversation piece because me and my homies hate gender roles and gendered expectations. You will never catch me bending to oppressive patriarchal gender roles. 

One thing I will never understand are same sex (or queer) couples falling into gendered roles based on who is more “masculine” or “feminine.” If I was basing my relationship of gendered expectations, then I would be sitting pretty as the fem(me) partner twiddling my thumbs. You best believe on our first date I asked for a second date, paid for dinner, and drove! Of course I buy my partner’s meals and bring them flowers and say “I love you” first! I know what I want and I’m going to get it! You will not catch me sitting around waiting for things to happen. If I want something I’m going to ask for it. Plus, breaking gender roles is hot. 

That’s not to say that embracing gendered roles is always bad. As long as it’s a choice that makes all members of the party happy, then go for it. Having a traditional gendered relationship could be really affirming for a T4T couple. Plus, some people just like their traditional gender roles! As long as it’s not falling into scary tradwife Republican submission where boxing people in is used to control them, do whatever gendered things you want!

  1. Creating New Rules

The fabulous thing about being queer is that you’re already going against the “norm” so there’s freedom to continue to defy expectations. And anyone who thinks otherwise is just trying to uphold heternormative ideals. It’s giving gay Republicans. Gross. 

When I asked my partner to be my partner I figured we could just make that day our anniversary because I assumed that’s just what people did. But then I realized I didn’t like it. What about all the time we spent before, did that just not count as time we’ve been dating? Plus, the day just didn’t sit right with me. It was in May and a Thursday and it just didn’t feel right so I asked my partner if we could just make our first date our anniversary and they loved that idea. And I know plenty of people make their first date their anniversary but that’s all to say I was originally trying to do what I thought was typical and guess what, I didn’t feel like it fit me and my relationship, so we changed it. And it made me a lot happier. 

I see the “rules” and conventions around romantic relationships as something that’s merely a suggestion. The system that has set up these expectations isn’t built for queer people, so why should we follow it? Anyways. Was this blog post mostly an excuse to talk about my partner? Maybe. But did it allow me to reflect on queer relationships and the heteronormative institutions that try to regulate them? Yes. 

Being Disappointed in Lesbianism (and being okay with that)

Jadey’s writing about being gay again. Raise your hand if you’re shocked.

For the second time in undergrad I am taking a poetry class. The first time I took this class I was a freshman; nervous and mostly unfamiliar with the world of poetry. Being that I’ve currently gotten all the credits I need for my major as a junior (besides thesis classes I’ll take my senior year) I decided to retake poetry for fun. It’s been about a month and a half and I can confidently say I’ve had a lot of fun already and am excited to keep writing poems.

I can see the improvement in my poetry and have gotten into a productive writing process. My poems are whimsical, yet serious. There are good images and metaphors. It was recently pointed out to me that there were similar themes and rhythms of exploration I was doing in my poetry. And while this is good in one aspect, that I’m honing in on my “thing’ as a writer, and will have a thread throughout my end of semester portfolio, it also was frustrating for me to realize. And I’m not really that upset about my similar line breaks and typical silliness my poems have. I enjoy those things about my poetry. My frustrations come from a greater problem. Recently, almost all my poems have mentioned my sexuality, if not being explicitly about lesbianism. 

And of course I’ve told myself that this is okay. Because it is. It’s cool. Queer representation is needed and I haven’t heard any other explicitly lesbian poems in class yet, though it’s definitely a possibility. I’m telling myself I’m in a lesbian renaissance. I’m coming to terms with things. But the issue is that I don’t want to. 

It’s frustrating for me to be upset over my queerness. Because usually it is something I find so much joy in. It’s my favorite thing about myself. But recently I can’t help but feel sad about it. And granted, this is not all the time. Maybe a brief moment or thought in the middle of the week. I don’t wake up dressed in black (though I do wear black a lot – not the point) like a widow in mourning for the husband I’ll never have. But every once in a while the thought will pop into my brain and it’ll pass, or like this present moment, it will linger, and I’ll mull it over. 

This grief I’m feeling for the life I won’t have is an ongoing process. As much as I surround myself with positive queerness and am in queer circles the issue of homophobia is a systemic issue. It’s embedded into our culture. And with this presidency it’s certainly not going anywhere. 

I simply find it not fair. I don’t want to be sad. I don’t want my life to be harder because I’m gay. I want to live in a beautiful state of ignorance where I don’t know about the systemic oppression and homophobia and constant news of trans people dying. I don’t want to be distinctly aware of the fact that I can count the number of queer adults I know on less than ten fingers. How am I supposed to imagine a full beautiful life as a queer adult, as an asexual for that matter, when I can’t see it in my real life. The only asexual people I know are my age. Most of the queer people I know are 20 years old. How am I supposed to imagine in the future when the queer adults I know don’t surpass the age of 40? How am I supposed to see a fulfilling life as an asexual when I’ve never met as asexual adult? How am I supposed to believe that’s even a possibility? 

I have thought that maybe the label lesbian isn’t for me, which is exactly what I predicted myself doing. I think my issue is that in an attempt to accept it, I’ve forgotten to hold onto the queerness and aceness I live with, which is equally, if not more, important to me than using the term lesbian. But I am a lesbian. I don’t have to scream it from the rooftops. If anything, I could end my lesbian acceptance renaissance and use the term queer, knowing that term encompasses my asexuality, lesbianism, gender, and unconventional relationship types. Which honestly, is what I might do. Going through the process of coming to terms with this label was necessary, but I also can use the label queer, and know that I am a lesbian. Because I am asexual, and because I am not straight, and because of all sorts of other things like my strong rooted feminist identity and relationship with gender I feel incredibly queer in my identity and my lifestyle. So, I am queer. But, if asked to expand what that means to me, part of that would be that I’m a lesbian and asexual.  

Anyway, I am definitely going to write more poems about being gay. I just needed to rant. Thank god I have a blog. 

Update: I did write another poem that was gay and it actually is one of the best poems I’ve written so clearly I have something going for me. 

Cool vs Uncool Gays: Othering in the Queer Community

What makes someone cool? Is it personal opinion, or societally constructed? Do different cultures have varying views on what makes someone cool, or is there a universal cool? Why are certain qualities deemed uncool?

Recently I was talking to some friends, and as people do, we were discussing the people we go to school with. I run my queer club on campus and we started talking about the members in this club. Like with any social organization, there are always people you like more than others, and we got on the topic of who was cool and uncool. These friends of mine deemed a lot of the people who attend my club as uncool, but to me, a majority of my members are super cool people. 

The people my friends deemed cool seemed to be conventionally attractive, cisgender or cis-passing people. They weren’t super alternative in their looks, and could arguably be heterosexual passing. Now, of course everyone is allowed to have their own opinions. And these friends did just happen to find more traditionally attractive people cool. But that got me thinking. Why were these heterosexual/cisgender looking people cool? Was it personal preference, internalized homophobia, the media’s standards of beauty? There could be many reasons, but I wondered what makes someone, especially a queer person, cool? 

So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to break this down into four categories. First, what society (western standards) deem as a “cool” gay person, and what society deems as “uncool.” Then we’re going to discuss Jadey’s version of “cool” and “uncool” gay people.

Now, first we have to address a few things. What does being “cool” mean? 

When I Google the slang definition of cool, the general consensus I gathered is that someone who is cool has a certain attitude, behavior, or style that is admirable to a certain group or society and appeals to social norms. So, this definition could change depending on who you are, where you are, etc, but it has largely to do with “fitting it” and appealing to social norms. However, there is a bit of edge to a cool person. They are confident, but they have a certain sense of autonomy and are distancing themselves from authority. Being identified as cool usually appeals to younger generations. 

Okay. Awesome. So what is my definition of cool? 

When I think of someone who is cool I think of someone confident. They are sure of themselves. They don’t care what others think. They are a kind and respectful individual but they also stand up for what they believe in. They’re not afraid to be outspoken and have people disagree with them. Cool people have a unique sense of style and self. To me, a cool person is politically active, has an alternative edgy style, has niche interests and hobbies, and is (though they don’t have to be) queer. 

And, we have to acknowledge that in contemporary Western society it is never “cool” to be gay.

Now that that’s out of the way, that brings me to another question. Why do we “other” people in an already minority community? Why do some queer people feel that they have the authority to feel superior to other queer people? 

I think the main reason is that queer people who “other” people in their own community are struggling with internalized homophobia. They might see themselves as a “normal” queer person, someone who is quiet about their queerness. They think that loud gay people are doing a disservice to the community. That if these loud gays were quieter, if they weren’t loud and flamboyant or polyamorous or trans or used neo pronouns or was a furry, that straight people would respect these so called “normal” gays. But the truth of the matter is, no queer person is ever going to be normal in the eyes of a cishet society.  

What Society Deems as “Uncool”

  1. Trans and GNC People 

People who are not cis are not cool. People who go against the gender binary are not cool. The exception to this might be cis passing trans people where those around them don’t know they are trans. Once this is found out about them they are deemed uncool. So, this means that anyone who is not transexual (be it non-binary, agender, genderfluid, androgynous, etc) are never going to be cool. Breaking the traditional gender binary goes against everything the patriarchy has in place to subordinate minorities. Very uncool. 

  1. Loud and Proud Gays

Our patriarchal and homophobic society does not like queer people who are loud about their identity. Why? Because these people are hard to control. This can be the kind of gay person who is flamboyant and extroverted, or alternatively dressed and heavily active in politics. The only good gay person is the silent one. 

  1. Unconventionally Attractive and/or Alternative Gays (including those who might be disabled or neurodivergent) 

White, cishet passing, able-bodied queer people are the only ones who might be allowed to be queer in public. Being neurodivergent, disabled, or a person of color, anything that already others you is not cool, and once you mix that with queerness, god forbid! This definitely has to do with white supremacy but that’s another conversation. 

What Society Deems as “Cool” Gays

  1. Cisgender and Heterosexual Passing Gays

The type of gay people society thinks is cool is the people who aren’t read as gay. These people are conventionally attractive. They fit into gender roles and expectations. They aren’t alternative in their style. This is the kind of person who is your everyday Joe. All in all, these people pass as cishet. 

  1. Gay, but not Queer 

The more acceptable type of gay person in American society is the gay person who subscribes to the American ideal. They have a house and white picket fence. They are not vocal about their queerness. They join the PTA and the HOA. They aren’t friends with other queer people. They’re in a nuclear family unit. The acceptable type of gay person is a gay person who hides their queerness and assimilates into straight cisgender roles and expectations. 

When I say a person is gay, but not queer, I mean that they do experience attraction to the same gender but they do not participate in unconventional familial, household, or relationship roles. When a person is queer, this shows up in their daily life. They probably have radical views of gender and sexuality. They don’t subscribe to traditional gender roles in relationships and if they do, it’s a choice, not from outside pressure. 

What Jadey Deems as “Uncool” Gays

  1. Uneducated Gays

People who identify somewhere on the spectrum of LGBTQIA+ but don’t know queer history. These are people who realize they are gay and stop there. They don’t know about Stonewall or other micro identities or neo pronouns and why the L is at the start of the acronym. Basically, they ignore the struggle and hardship of their queer elders. 

  1. Homophobic Gay People

Listen. Homophobia can get the best of us. But identifying as gay and disliking other people for being queer (usually too queer or trans) is problematic. We live in a homophobic society, it is understandable to internalize those messages and subject them to yourself and others. But, if you’re not doing the work to overcome that, then you’re contributing to the issue, which is not cool. 

  1. Gay, but not Queer 

I have a really hard time being around people who are gay but not queer. These are gay people who think they have the right to speak on queer issues just because they’re gay when in reality, they know nothing about the subject. Just because I’ve taken an algebra class doesn’t mean I have the right to tell you your calculus is wrong. 

  1. Gays with a Victim Complex

These are the people I think the right would call “snowflakes.” These are gay people who think every single bad thing to happen to them is an act of homophobia. These people make everything centered around their queerness. These people expect everyone to know everything about queerness. They get pissed off at someone who slips up on pronouns even though they’re trying their best. This is the gay person who says they hate straight people. 

The kind of gay people I don’t like are the ones who are constantly playing the victim card. These are the people who are completely convinced every single bad thing to happen to them is pure oppression just because they are gay. Like, no Samantha, that person doesn’t like you because you’re annoying, not because you’re gay. 

What Jadey Deems as “Cool” Gays

  1. Gays Educated in Queer History.

If you’re educated about queer topics, you’re cool. Because if you’ve educated yourself on a variety of queer history, it’s very likely you’ve gotten a variety of stories and perspectives of the queer experience and therefore have become a more educated, well-rounded, empathetic person.

  1. Gays Educated in Queer Media 

This goes with the above topic. Listen, just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you have to exclusively listen to queer artists or consume queer art and media. Unless you’re me that is. But, it’s important to know who is trailblazing in your community and making it easier and more accepted for you to live your life as an out and proud queer person. 

  1. Queer, not Gay

At this point I’ve repeated myself enough so I’ll only say this: people who are simply “gay” and not “queer” are trapped in patriarchal bounds. They’re trying to appeal to a system that will never accept them and was made to erase them. That’s not cool. 

My asexuality (and my lesbianism) has played a huge role in how I identify as queer. Just my asexuality alone makes every romantic relationship I am in queer because it is an unconventional relationship. There’s no sex. Romance is prioritized. Other forms of affection are prioritized. 

I prioritize being in queer spaces and hanging out with queer people. I consume queer media. It’s important to me to know about my community and the complexity in it because the diversity is what makes it cool and unique and beautiful. How boring it would be to just be gay. Being queer is complex, and it’s really cool. 

  1. Confident and Outspoken Gays

It is cool to be proud of who you are. Why? Because it creates space for your identity to be normalized and makes other people feel confident in who they are. I always think back to the out queer kids I knew in high school when I was figuring out my identity and I thought these people were the coolest kids ever. I wanted to be their friend. Seeing people like you exist is crucial to accepting your differences and identity. Simply existing as a queer person is a protest in itself. 

  1. Social and Political Activity 

Queer people who are active not only politically, but socially as well in their community. These are people who hang out with other queer people. They consume queer media. They make an effort to support queer business. They go to drag shows and support queer art. These people are making a difference for the wider queer community. 

  1. Multi-layered Queerness 

The coolest type of queer person you can be is the queer person who understands (or is trying to understand) the multilayered complexity to your queerness. Because your queerness and sexuality isn’t just who you feel sexual attraction to (or in my case, don’t). There are so many types of ways to feel attraction: romantic, sexual, emotional, sensual, intellectual. The list goes on and on. Sure, you could identify as gay, but what does that mean? Being a cool gay is being aware of the complexity and layers to your identity. How does your sexual and romantic attraction to people affect your relationship dynamics? Plus, your sexuality can totally impact how you experience gender. How is your gender and sexuality different? How do they overlap and intertwine? 

Anyway, It’s cool to be queer. Who knew one conversation with some friends would turn into a full blown blog post and become such a nuanced conversation. 

I’m Coming Out…Again

Jadey. You’re coming out? Haven’t you already done that? Didn’t you come out years ago and make being gay your whole personality? You made a blog about it and run your campus’s gay club and write and read and listen to and watch queer media. Doesn’t everyone in the world know you’re gay?!

Well…yeah.

But. Alas. I have adopted a new label that I thought I should share with you all (hence the reason I have a blog).

I’m a lesbian. And it feels weird to type that. It feels weird to see those words in reference to myself. I know this is probably shocking for you readers (it’s definitely not). But don’t worry. I’m definitely still asexual. That is not changing.

How did I come to this conclusion? I’ll tell you. 

  1. I kinda always knew.

Unfortunately I have come to the conclusion that I was maybe sorta possibly just ignoring this part of my identity. This label has been swimming around in the back of my mind for a while. I know I don’t like men, yet I haven’t been using the label lesbian. I thought I would possibly come around to the label eventually, but I was never actually putting the work in questioning if that was a label I wanted. I wasn’t questioning it because I simply didn’t want to have another sexuality crisis. It’s a lot of work to question your sexuality and I did not want to go through that journey again. 

Besides the fact that I thought one day I might identify as a lesbian, I also felt very connected to the lesbian experience. Sometimes I would see people on TikTok talk about being an asexual lesbian, and I would feel very seen in those statements. Lesbians would talk about lesbian experiences and I would relate, but push it off as just a queer experience or a commonality because I also like women. 

During the summer I came to the realization that all my friends, even the ones who are queer, still experienced attraction to men. And I thought to myself “I need to make more lesbian friends.” That’s kind of a gay (lesbian) thing to think…If I didn’t identify as a lesbian then why would I want lesbian friends? Probably because I found it relatable…

  1. I made lesbian friends.

This school year I became friends with two lesbians and they converted me. All these republicans are worried about the gay agenda. Well look what happened when I befriended some lesbians! 

No. What really happened is I simply talked to them about being lesbian. And low and behold it resonated with me. I would tell them things and they would look at me with a kind of “duh” look in their eyes because the things I would say to them were clearly lesbian experiences. 

Plus, these two friends have a list of all the lesbians on our campus and when I heard about this I thought to myself “I should probably be on that list.” That’s a pretty gay thing to think.

It turns out talking to people with commonalities makes you realize things about yourself. Plus, they would remind me that it’s cool to be a lesbian and send me lesbian memes on Instagram so that was nice and made me feel better about accepting this label. 

  1. Heterosexual relationships disturb me.

Don’t take this the wrong way. I swear I’m a straight ally. My point is this: I don’t want it. I see straight couples out in public expressing PDA or holding hands or what have you, and I find it kinda…gross. It disappoints me. I see queer relationships and it makes my little gay heart flutter with hope and admiration. 

  1. I read the Lesbian Masterdoc.

Yeah. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve read the Lesbian Masterdoc before. But that was years ago and I read it out of curiosity and to see if those points related to what I was feeling as someone trying to figure out if they liked women along with men (which is what I felt at the time). 

For about the past year I had put off reading it again. I put off reading it because I knew I would relate and I simply didn’t have time to question my sexuality again. I thought I was done with that. I spent years doing that and being out. I thought that period of my life was behind me. I was wrong. 

Now, some parts of the Lesbian Masterdoc simply don’t apply to me. Mostly because I’m ace, but also because I used to like boys.

Here’s some key takeaways I took from reading the Lesbian Masterdoc that made me realize I should probably just use this label: 

  • You can’t imagine a happy and fulfilling life with a man
  • You think it’s objectively true that every woman is more attractive than men
  • Lesbian or gay feels like the label for you but you still doubt yourself 
  • You’re repulsed by the dynamics of male/female relationships 
  • You dread the idea of a future with a man
  • You go through past memories to prove your attraction to men
  • You couldn’t imagine yourself in a long term relationship to a man
  • You really like a male celebrity (an unattainable man)
  • Having past attraction to men or being in a relationship with a man in the past doesn’t take away from your lesbian identity now 

And this quote that really made me stop and think: “Lesbian doesn’t need to mean ‘only experiences attraction to women,’ it can mean ‘only feels comfortable, only prefers, and only prioritizes women & relationships with them.’” Once I read that I knew it was over for me.  

  1. I questioned why I wasn’t using the label lesbian. 

Turns out there were a lot of reasons. The main one is that I was definitely (and still am unfortunately) struggling with some comphet stuff, and using the label lesbian really solidified the fact that I don’t like men and probably never will. As much as I thought I was over the whole wishing I liked boys thing so my life would be easier, I clearly was not. 

I also like to be mysterious and not labeling my sexuality allowed me to be cool and mysterious. Now, I still have lots of love and appreciation for being unlabeled or just using the label queer, but it’s necessary for me to come to terms with the term lesbian in reference to myself. Plus Conan Gray doesn’t label his sexuality and now we don’t have that in common. Devastating.

The asexual thing also throws some complexities into the ring. One, because what I see on social media is a somewhat sexualized (in an empowering way) lesbian sexuality. I see gay people online talking about lesbian sex and enjoying it and being proud of it. That’s not something that resonates with me in the same way it does for others. And in a bad sexualized way, lesbians and queer women are often hyper and over sexualized in the media and viewed in a way for male pleasure. I’ve probably internalized that and subconsciously related that to lesbianism and therefore seen it as something I don’t experience/relate to as an asexual person. I had to separate these things and modify the lesbian definition to fit me, an asexual person. 

Let’s get back into the comphet stuff. I thought I wasn’t really dealing with compulsory heterosexuality because I love being queer. I went around saying I didn’t like men and I wouldn’t want to date a man…but I was secretly (maybe even unconsciously) holding onto hope that I did like men.

This came to the forefront when I befriended a boy. This is a pretty normal thing, but I’ve pretty much had friends who were girls (or nonbinary) throughout my life. So, of course, I got into my head about this. I like this friend a lot. We have a lot in common. We both write. We’re both hilarious. We’re both normal and not weirdo freak college kids. Unfortunately in the back of my mind I was hoping that I would like him. And that’s a terrible thing to admit. Because I don’t like boys in that way. But the hope was still there. 

It also didn’t help that my family members liked him. After I introduced this friend to my family (as one does when they make new friends) they had some choice things to say. “I wish you were straight so you could date him” and “do you still have a crush on him?” 

It’s terrible to hear these things because I’ve thought about them myself. I don’t want my family, people’s whose opinions and judgment I care about, to reflect back to me my own insecurities. Of course I also want to like him! Of course I wish that part of me liked boys. It would be so easy. I would relate to my other queer and bisexual friends. I would relate to my straight friends. I would be normal!! Ughhh not normal but you know what I mean. 

But alas. I don’t like boys. And I wouldn’t be happy marrying one. In fact, I’m haunted by Chappell Roan’s lyrics “you’re nothing more than his wife.” How a shiver runs up my spine! 

Why I’m using the label lesbian and other thoughts: 

I’m using the label lesbian because I want to be part of a community. I want to feel understood by people who don’t like men. I want to be on my friend’s lesbian list. 

I’ve been making myself save lesbian memes to my Pinterest folder. My lesbian friends will send me lesbian TikToks or memes and it makes me feel seen and all warm and fuzzy when they do. I’ve been making comments about me being a lesbian to a small group of people. I’m working on it. 

I made a presentation to tell my friends. This was good because I had to think about myself in conjunction with the label lesbian. I had to think about other people perceiving me this way. It also was something I could hang over their heads and be like “ooo super secret presentation I have to show you” so that made me feel better about it. At the time of writing this I have yet to show it to them, but I’m sure they will find it entertaining and funny and be happy for me. It definitely won’t come as a surprise. 

I feel as though I am back into the life I had at 17. I’m almost 21, a junior in college, and I feel just like my confused  junior year high school self. I’m watching YouTube videos about lesbians and finding comfort in that. I’m going on TikTok and searching up lesbian coming out videos. I’m looking at lesbian memes. I’m finding lesbian playlists on Spotify and singing along to songs about girls kissing girls. 

I’m mourning the life I could have had. I know a life of heterosexuality and traditional relationships is not for me. But embracing this label solidifies that in a way I didn’t expect. And that’s hard to admit. 

I am uncomfortable with this label now. But deep down I know that this is who I am. And later, if I realize labels never really were for me I can drop it. Because lesbian is just a word, and I’m a real person feeling real experiences and a word doesn’t have to define the complexity of things I’m experiencing. But I know that this journey of me realizing my internalized negative feelings was necessary. As proud as I am of my identity, I still can be prouder. 

No label is going to fit me the way asexual does. The community I feel, the comfort I feel in that word and seeing the ace flag is indescribable. Maybe one day I’ll feel that about lesbianism, but the most important part of my identity is my asexuality. Because I’m not just a lesbian. I’m an asexual lesbian. The term ace will always come first. 

I think I’m also having trouble because I feel like I have to give up the term queer. And I love being queer. It feels political. It feels broad and encompassing. It feels like a big fuck you to societal norms. So, let me remind myself: I don’t have to give up labels that work for me. I get to add labels. I can be a part of the ace community. The lesbian community. The queer community. I can be queer. I can be asexual. I can be lesbian. And I can be a queer asexual lesbian all at the same time. 

I don’t want to call myself a lesbian if it doesn’t fit. But I also don’t want to not call myself a lesbian because of homophobia or comphet or some other reason because I’m ashamed. I don’t want to be ashamed of my queerness. I want to love it with every ounce of my soul. 

I don’t have to go around screaming that I’m a lesbian. I don’t have to announce it.  I don’t even have to post this blog, but you all know I will because I love to overshare on the internet, and this post was not only funny, but meaningful for me to write, so maybe it’ll be helpful to someone else. 

Alright. It’s been about two months since I wrote all of the above. I’m happy to say I’m finding joy in identifying as a lesbian and it’s actually making me feel even more confident in my queerness. I’m sure this will be an ongoing process for me, and there will be more lesbian (and asexual) content to come. 

I Found a Dating App Just for Asexuals 

Today’s blog post is going to be a short one, mostly an update of sorts, about a dating app I have recently found thanks to everyone’s favorite educational platform, TikTok. 

Now, quite a while ago I tried some dating apps that were deemed “asexual friendly” and we learned that those words really didn’t mean anything. I’ve honestly had the best luck on the dating app Hinge, but it still rots my brain and I have it deleted from my phone hopefully to never return.

The main point of me testing out all those other dating apps was one, for content, and two, to see if their claims were right. When I found these claims were kinda wrong, and hardly found other aces, and didn’t have much success in the match department in general, I said I needed a dating app just for asexuals.

Well it turns out that there is such a thing!

There’s a dating app called “ACEapp The Social Network” which is a social network platform solely dedicated for people on the asexual spectrum.

So, of course, for science (and the possibility of finding my future wife) I downloaded it.  

First of all, you can tell this app was made for aces because the logo is a slice of cake the colors of the asexual flag. Plus, it’s an app that gives you the option for romantic or platonic relationships, which is very ace coded. 

The process went a little like this. I downloaded the app. I made an account. I uploaded a picture, gave my age, and filled out a few get-to-know-you questions that said I was looking for a romantic relationship, didn’t smoke, was an introvert, etc. The most exciting part of this app were the sexuality options which all involved romantic orientation labels such as grayromantic, panromantic, demiromantic, confused, lithoromantic, and many more. There weren’t even options to choose something  like lesbian or gay, because it was assumed you were ace! I chose homoromantic which I’ve never seen as an option on any other dating app. 

There are a few issues. First of all, this app, according to the app store, is over 17 years old. So the user friendliness of it isn’t the best. It’s definitely doable, but it’s not as convenient and user friendly as other dating apps. You can only choose one picture for your profile, and there aren’t prompts to fill out. You can only fill out a short bio about yourself which was daunting. What info should I choose to say about myself to meet the love of my life?!

Unfortunately for me, when I narrowed my results down to people in my age range looking for a romantic relationship 100 miles or less from me, absolutely no one showed up…

Considering the ace population is small, and I, a chronically online asexual, only found out about this app last week, means that the issue is that aces simply don’t know about this app, making the friend, and certainly the romance pool, incredibly small. 

This app does seem better for getting to know other ace people as friends. There was a cool feature where you could see ace people all around the world, which is a nice comfort. 

Overall it was a fun time but I deleted it after about twenty minutes. There’s just something about scrolling over people’s pictures and judging them as suitors that makes my brain hurt.

Anyway. This was an exciting discovery. Hopefully someone rich will buy this app and revamp it so it’s even better and cooler, and every ace person will download it and I’ll meet the love of my life. 

Questioning My Sexuality (and coming to a resolution)

Last week something crazy happened. Someone infiltrated my brain and switched the settings. Everything I thought I knew was turned upside down. Crazy thoughts were swimming around my brain. 

“Jadey. You’re so dramatic. What on earth are you talking about?”

Well dear reader, what happened was this: a boy. 

*a collective gasp shudders across the room*

You’re sure you read that wrong. But alas, it’s not what you think…not entirely. Let me give you some background on my current situation.

As everyone knows, I am asexual but I don’t label my romantic orientation. I use the term queer or gay in a broad sense, but never have found a label that fits perfectly. Recently I’ve been questioning if I’m a lesbian. Maybe this is the label that works for me. I don’t experience attraction to men, so theoretically, shouldn’t that make me a lesbian? And there’s something about this term that feels right, but also wrong. There are parts of the lesbian experience I relate to. Calling myself an asexual lesbian fits better than just saying lesbian, but the term still isn’t quite right. Maybe this is internalized homophobia. Maybe I’m just dealing with some weird version of compulsory heterosexuality and I’ll come around to the label eventually. Maybe I won’t and I’ll find labels were never meant for me in the first place. 

As I was going through this period of reflection on my sexuality I ended up befriending a boy. Shockingly, I had a very pleasant time interacting with him. He’s very kind and smart and we have similar interests. We’ve had classes together and we’ve hung out in real life. Overall it’s been a good time and he’s just a nice young lad. I found myself in what I called “platonic infatuation.” As our friendship grew it was something I thought about. I was very fascinated by it. And that got me thinking. Oh my god. Do I have a crush on him? 

I considered the possibility that my feelings had turned romantic. I was flabbergasted! Everything I thought I knew about myself was turned upside down! For years I had been going around thinking, and telling everyone, that I didn’t like men! What did this make of my sexuality?! Maybe this was a sign that I’ve been right all along about not labeling my sexuality because here I was suddenly attracted to every gender! Before I knew this boy I even thought to myself “If I were straight I would date him.” Was this projecting? Was this an unconscious crush? I thought to myself, “I’m almost 21! After four years now is when I’m going to question my sexuality? Shouldn’t I know it by now?” And of course, all of this had to happen right when I really put some thought into deciding is lesbian was a term I wanted to use.

I (figuratively) sat myself down and thought about this for approximately two seconds. Some parts of dating a boy seem nice. Some if it seems gentle. A boy holding a door open. Paying for dinner and walking me home. But it all seems casual. Sure, I could have a boyfriend, but certainly I couldn’t marry a man! I could maybe like a boy if he was just exceptionally cute and charming and even funnier than me. Basically, I could date a man if he was fictional. That is very gay. I need to date someone who understands the queer experience. There’s something political in being in an obviously queer relationship and I want to be a part of that. And let’s be real. Me? Dating a man? That is so off brand for me. Imagine if my next blog post  was me saying I had a boyfriend. In 2024? Come on…

Turns out, I’ve just never really made friends with a boy before and I think I took this new experience and blew it out of proportion. 

Of course if I did actually have romantic feelings for this boy that would be okay. It would be cool to have a new experience. My sexuality would simply be more fluid than I thought. It wouldn’t make me any less queer. If anything, it would let me into a world where I could connect to women and femininity in a way I feel I currently can’t as a queer asexual person. 

Anyway, all of that is to say I once again confused platonic feelings for romantic ones. I don’t have a crush on this boy. I probably will never have a crush on a boy and I will definitely not marry one. For a brief moment I was questioning that there was even an ounce of heterosexuality in my body. It was fun while it lasted. The lesbian allegations are back on the table. 

Now I’m going to post this even though there’s a chance he could read it, but when has that ever stopped me before? In fact, it almost seems necessary recently for me to write blog posts about people in my life. Only time will tell what I write about next. 

Ten Songs for When You Have a Big Gay Crush (or need to manifest one)

A new school year is upon us, and everyone knows that could only mean one thing: new suitors. Now, unfortunately I have long been the victim of unrequited crushes, so today’s post is simply setting my intentions for the school year. For people to like me back. For people to be honest about their feelings. For someone to throw rocks at my window and write me letters confessing their undying love to me.

Really, I’m just doing some light manifesting. 

In order to do that I’ve decided to share with you my top ten songs I love to listen to when I have a big ol’ gay crush on someone. So without further ado, here’s that list. 

  1. “Ain’t Together” – King Princess

King Princess is probably one of the gayest people alive yet it seems as though none of the gays listen to her, so I’m here to change that. Her voice is beautiful. Her lyrics are awesome. She’s just my type and hot as hell. 

This song is for the people in a situationship. The people who know there’s something up but don’t know where they lie. The people in homoerotic friendships, aka the people absolutely going through it. 

Notable lyrics: “And I can’t watch this fall apart / We say, “I love you”, but we ain’t together”

Favorite lyrics: “Being chill, being chill with you / Oh, it kills, I ain’t chill at all, at all”

  1. “Touching Yourself” – The Japanese House

This is actually one of my favorite songs to ever exist. This song comes on and I’m dancing. Suddenly I’m no longer asexual and I’m experiencing sexual attraction for the first time because this song is so hot. The mood is set and that mood is horny. 

This song is for the people who are too far away – emotionally or physically – from the person they like. This is for the people who just want to touch the person they are crushing on but know they can’t. 

Notable lyrics: “Know I shouldn’t need it but I want affection / Know I shouldn’t want it but I need attention”

Favorite lyrics: “I wanna touch you but you’re too far away / And when you call me, I’m all over the place now”

  1. “Picture You” – Chappell Roan

Chappell Roan is my Roman Empire. Why? Because I’ve been a fan for years. I’ve been a fan since before” Red Wine Supernova” and “HOT TO GO!” I’ve been a loyal, avid, and enthusiastic Chappell listener since before the release of her debut album. She was my tiny talented indie artist and now everyone knows who she is. And of course, they should. She’s incredibly talented. But now she has freak fans and huge sold out venues and I’m worried I’m never going to see her in concert again and it’s no longer cool to listen to her music because every gay person and their mother listens to her. 

This song is for the yearners. The people who are too afraid to say how they feel, so all they can do is hope that the person they like likes them back. This song is tragic and it hurts so good. 

Notable lyrics:” Do you picture me like I picture you?”

Favorite lyrics: “Do you feel the same? I’m too scared to say”

  1. “Ew” – Towa Bird

Towa Bird just released her debut album, and I will admit, it is certainly a debut album. However, she can shred guitar and sings about being gay, so I do like some of her songs. She’s also really hot, so that’s a plus.

This song is for the people who hate sharing their emotions. Who thinks being vulnerable is cringe. Who wants to be in love but the idea of it makes them sick. Overall, Towa Bird wrote this song about me. 

Notable lyrics: “The way I feel about you stuck in my throat / I’m lovesick, I’m dying / I know it’s gross”

Favorite lyrics: “Love songs falling out my mouth”

  1. “If I Can’t Have You” – Shawn Mendes

My heterosexual pop girly roots are making an appearance in this post. Shawn Mendes. He is capital “F” Fine. Now, I’m not an avid Shawn listener, but it would simply be a lie to say that I can’t get down with some of his music, because this song is an absolute banger. It hits every time. 

This song is for the overthinkers. The girlies who feel clinically insane when they have a crush. Who feels the weight of the world on their chest when they think about the possibility that their crush may not like them back. 

Notable lyrics: “You know that I hate to admit it / But everything means nothing if I can’t have you

Favorite lyrics: “I can’t write one song that’s not about you

  1. “First Time” – Lucy Dacus

There’s a couple Lucy Dacus songs that shake me to my core and have an absolute chokehold on me with no plans of letting go. This is one of those songs. 

This song is for the sapphics. The first time lovers. The girls who would upend their life for a chance to experience true love just once. The girls who let themselves fall hard and worry about the repercussions later. 

Notable lyrics: “I can’t go back to who I was before I met you / I can’t undo what I’ve done, I wouldn’t want to”

Favorite lyrics: “I am just the fool you took me for”

  1. “Gorgeous” – Taylor Swift

If there’s one thing Taylor Swift can do right, it’s right a song about being in love. 

This is for the people who love to stare. Who hate not getting what they want. This song is for the people who want someone they can’t have. 

Notable lyrics: “You’re so gorgeous / I can’t say anything to your face /’Cause look at your face” 

Favorite lyrics: “You should think about the consequence / Of your magnetic field bein’ a little too strong

  1. “Girls Make me Wanna Die” – The Aces

The title says it all. Sometimes the crush you have hurts so bad it feels as though it simply would be better to be euthanized. Take me out to a pasture and pull the trigger. 

This song is for the girls who can’t seem to fall in love. Who hate online dating. Who want to have a hot girlfriend but unfortunately don’t. 

Notable lyrics: “These girls that make me wanna die”

Favorite lyrics: “She’s wearing my beat-up jean jacket so damn well”

  1. “Disaster” – Conan Gray

It wouldn’t be an Average Asexual blog post if I didn’t mention Conan Gray at least once. And this was a hard one, because Conan has a lot of amazing songs. I’m an avid listener of “The King” when I have a crush to boost my self confidence, only to turn around and listen to “Footnote” and cry when Cone sings “So I’ll stop being pretentious and loathing our friendship.” 

But, those songs don’t fit the danceable gay pop I have going, so “Disaster” it is. 

This song is for the worriers. The people who want to protect their heart because they feel too much and don’t want to wallow in the heartbreak. 

Notable lyrics: “’Cause the potential of us, it was keepin’ me up all night long”

Favorite lyrics: “Is it purely platonic to call me, like, every night?”

  1. “(You) on My Arm” – Leith Ross

Leith Ross. My hero. My savior. My asexual icon. Leith Ross is criminally underrated and so is this song. 

This song is for the daydreamers. The people who simply want to whisper “I love you” and hold someone’s hand. 

Notable lyrics: “I wanna buy you / Pretty little things / And never ever lie to you / Watch you get dressed / And compliment your taste”

Favorite lyrics: “And nothing, no terrible dream / Could ever wake us / I don’t wanna wake up”

Alright. That’s enough manifesting for one post. We can’t get greedy after all. And here’s the link to my playlist affectionately titled “being normal (i have a crush and need to be euthanized).” 

Finding Queer Validation Through Online Dating 

A wild event has occurred in the world of this average asexual. Something crazy, something wild…something one could even call…unexpected. 

I went on a date.

And I know what you’re thinking. “Jadey, you’re so hot and cool and smart of course you went on a date.” And yes, it seems like I should have suitors throwing rocks at my window and banging down my front door for a chance to get to know me and have the possibility to interact with all of this wit and charisma. But alas, I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell.

For a while I’ve been on the dating app we’ve all come to know and love called Hinge. And let me tell you, I was in the trenches. Everyone was ugly. The people who rarely (and I mean rarely) liked me were not my type. And when I finally did come across someone I liked, they never matched with me, or their conversation was dry to the bone. 

Honestly, I was starting to get offended. I am incredibly cool. I have many interests and hobbies. I look hot on my profile and I only mentioned my love of Conan Gray an appropriate one time. 

But it turns out I matched with someone I was actually interested in. Someone who seemed cool and funny – so we started messaging on the app. And then they asked for my number. And we started texting. And one thing led to another and I asked them on a date, and then we went on aforementioned date. 

Now. All I really wanted out of this was something to add to the plot. To get to know someone. If something came about, awesome, but I wasn’t necessarily going into this date hoping to find the love of my life (besides I already found him, and we all know it’s Conan Gray). 

And I simply liked the idea that I met this person, happenstance, because we were on the same app at the same time, and liked each other enough to meet in person. Even for a split second in time, the universe crossed our paths. We went from strangers to acquaintances, and I think that’s pretty cool. 

My Hinge date and I did what every lesbian does on a date; we went on a picnic. But that was only after we met at a record store and picked up food to sit in the sun at a local park. 

I had never been on a Hinge date, and I had never been on a date with a stranger. And when I told my Hinge date that, they said, “Yeah I could kinda tell.” To which I simply responded “Oh, I guess I’ll leave.” 

And the date was kinda exactly what you would expect. We simply got to know each other. My goal for the evening was to make my date laugh, and I can confidently say I succeeded in that. In fact, that was what we did all evening, was simply laugh. 

The most unexpected part of this date was how validating of an experience it was. There I was, on a homosexual date, and the expectation was to be queer. We had similar experiences in discovering our queerness, we both couldn’t see ourselves in fulfilling relationships with men, we both were active in our local queer communities. We talked about how our first dates were with men, how we realized we were queer at the same age. 

I have a lot of queer friends, though my closest queer friends all experience attraction to men. There are aspects of our queerness that are strikingly similar, and there are aspects that are different. To be able to speak to a stranger, and to relate to them on such an intense level was honestly awesome. I felt so comfortable. We were in a public space, we were two visibly queer people, discussing queer topics, and I felt safe. 

It was shockingly validating to speak to this person about my queerness. And when I mentioned my asexuality, they didn’t bat an eye. There were no awkward ace questions. No “What does that mean?” it was simply another fact about me, and a piece of my queer experience, and I couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. 

Now. Let’s get to the juicy part. The question you’ll all probably wondering. Did we go on a second date?

Sorry to disappoint, but no. And honestly, I’m incredibly happy with that. We went on a date, we laughed a lot, and we never need to see each other ever again. I felt like we would be friends as opposed to interested in each other romantically, and from what I can tell, we’re on the same page about that. 

So all in all, I would rate my first Hinge date a solid 8 out of 10. I looked hot. I was funny. I wasn’t kidnapped or worse, put in a painfully awkward conversation. 

Shout out to the person I went on a date with. There’s a good chance you’ll never see this, but in case you do, now you can say someone wrote a blog post about the time they went on a date with you, so you’re welcome for that.

Finding Comfort in Queerness 

Look who’s back. It’s been a while since my last blog post, I know. In fact, this whole year my blog has lacked the consistency of the near weekly posts I made during my first year of blogging. I do think about it pretty often, wondering why my consistency has lacked. 

“Oh Jadey,” I ask myself, “why haven’t you posted on your blog?”

And in return, the little Jadey in my mind simply says, “I don’t have anything to say.” 

I started this blog a mere few months after I came out. I was dealing with what it was like to be a queer person in the world. I was learning what my queerness and my asexuality meant to me. I was in my first relationship. I dealt with my first breakup. I started college and attended queer club meetings and I continued to find out more about my queer identity.

This past year I made a queer friend group that quickly became one of the most important things in my life. I applied to be the president of my campus’s gay club and got the job, which I’ll start in the fall. I’ve continued to find confidence within my identity, and now, I have found a quite cliche amount of “inner peace,” if you will. 

My queerness has simply rooted itself deep in my bones and blossomed in a way of fact. I no longer feel confusion or difficulty in my queerness. Being queer, though a huge part of my life, has settled in a way I never expected. 

And because of that, I have not had much to say to the public. But in reality, I find that an incredibly happy thing. My blog was once an outlet for all of my confusion and frustration and queer joy I was feeling for the first time. I needed a way to express myself instead of keeping my feelings bottled in. My blog became a diary of sorts, and the simple act of writing helped me articulate major life events. And it just so happens that I posted it on the internet for anyone to read. 

Now of course, you never know what the future holds. In a month or two, something absolutely crazy could happen, and I could be writing pages and pages of advice and experiences and questions and music recommendations. But for now, all of this is to say, I’m at an incredibly joyful, comfortable place in my queerness. 

I still identify as ace, and can never see that changing. I’ve let a few labels swim around here in there for my romantic orientation, but for now, I still find joy in being unlabeled, and using queer as an umbrella term. As the love of my life Conan Gray says, I “don’t give a fuck about labels.” 

I’ve become more clear in how I feel as a queer girl, no longer worrying about labels to articulate my gender. Recently I’ve realized that at the start of my queerness, I changed my style to outwardly show my queerness to other people. Although I still do that, and find that it suits me best, I still love to lean hyper-femme, and have started to embrace that more. 

I’ve been reading tons of queer novels, watching queer shows, and writing tons of short stories over the summer, obviously starring queer, and usually ace, characters. 

So, that’s my update for you all. A quite joyous one I do have to say. Who knows what the future holds, this could be an update for the next few months, or the start of an explosion of blog posts. 

Until then, stay gay!