I should've figured that three posts about it wouldn't be enough. The fact is, my queer identity is probably something that'll have something novel to explore for the rest of my life.

So on top of using the bisexual and nonbinary labels, I'm also on the asexual spectrum. Not very deeply, mind you. I like sex, sex is great. I find people attractive all the time.

That said, I am rarely attracted to anyone in particular. I could probably find myself developing an attraction to a lot of people, but it def takes more time.

And once again revisiting the tangled server wire metaphor, this is tied up in my emotional regulation. See, I've had to work hard to keep my emotions in check for most of my life, especially with regards to people. I picked up a lot of this kind of behavior from my own parents, but it's become a lot easier to regulate in the last couple years with a little grounding.

So when it comes to people I am attracted to, I have to be careful. I get infatuated easily and I get super easily wrapped up in feelings of lust and not just sexually.

Lust is classically defined as an overwhelming desire for pleasure. It's important to note that in antiquity the sin of lust didn't just refer to sexual desire, but an unhealthy desire for any kind of pleasure. And so I find myself lusting for people and I have to let those feelings cool before I can entertain becoming close to them. Otherwise, it's an open invite for obsession and general toxicity.

With all that multicolored paint spilled on an already messy canvas, you're probably wondering how I might consider myself on the asexuality spectrum. So I think the term spectrum is doing a lot of heavy lifting here and you'd probably agree. Next to most of my asexual friends, I am highly allosexual, and it would be accurate to often describe me as a horndog. But among the more sexually inclined, the difference is stark.

So I went to a kink party this past weekend. And being immersed in this highly sexual environment (which one might describe as a glorified dance party with fewer clothes and a kink corner) I realized just how uninterested I was in the sexual aspects of the space. There were plenty of attractive people, but nobody I felt attracted to.

At one point, two of my friends were trying to get a dom's attention in hopes of being flogged, but were a bit shy. I coincidentally knew the dom on duty and asked him if he could help get my friends flogged. I watched as they were strapped to a bed and smacked about with various implements. They looked like they were positively in ecstasy, and I had a big smile on my face.

A new friend in a gimp suit stopped by and asked if was excited for my turn. "Oh no," I replied "That looks tremendously uncomfortable, I'm just really happy that I could help my friends have a good time-" and then it hit me just how good I felt then and there.

So with a few prominent exceptions, I'm not a shy person. When I need something I ask for it. It's much easier to do this for a friend than for myself on top of that. But seeing a friend in need and helping them have a fun time using an ability I happen to have brought me an immense amount of joy within myself. It's a joy that I feel when I run DnD or when I'm on stage performing.

I was mid-sentence when I exclaimed "Oh my god, this is my kink" to my friend. I spoke to the dom afterwards, and apparently I have what's called a compersion kink.

Compersion is defined by therapist.com as the feeling of joy or happiness in others' joy or happiness, but especially in nonmonogamous situations. I'm not in any kind of romantic or sexual relationship with these two friends in particular, but I felt it regardless.

Seeing my friends having such a good night made my night great. I've briefly dated a few polyamorous people here and there, and while I ended the relationship each time, it was due to personality differences rather than any problem with the arrangement.

I myself have never dated multiple people at the same time, and I don't know where I'd find the time and energy to do so, but I am not like opposed to it.

I'm not a terribly jealous person, though I do feel jealousy like most humans, obviously. And so it kinda asks the question of how this all relates to asexuality.

So recently an episode of Peacemaker featured a character explaining that they didn't like sex for its own sake, but rather because it was a great bonding activity with their friend. And that connected with me.

That's the best part of sex for me, bonding with someone. I've had meaningless recreational sex a few times, and it was fun, don't get me wrong. It helped to keep my poor self esteem afloat here and there, and as such it was as passing as a shot of whiskey and perhaps only a little less unhealthy for me.

But generally sex to me is something lovely to share with a friend. A dance of vulnerability and emotion, tied to an expression that I rarely get to experience that's tied up in a ton of complicated memories. Something wonderful and intense and oftentimes silly.

When I was younger, in high school, I was much more asexual. Those days were tied up in trauma and shame, reinforced by the guilt inherent in such a puritan culture but also by the controlling nature of codependent parents.

I've mostly left that all behind, but I can see it lingering here and there. And it's only recently come to my attention that my asexuality is more than just that repression. And is almost certainly tied to my existing neurodivergence.

I've had this on my mind now and again recently due to some new connections I've made. You know I'm pretty introspective in general by now if you've read any of this blog, but I've been keeping my mind on these sorts of details because I think knowing myself is critical if I'm to be close to anyone.

I guess there's always going to be more to figure out. I don't think that's a bad thing. I know this civilization puts a lot of bad emphasis on people having "baggage" but I think that is just a natural result of living life. I've got to navigate my past, and I think I've been doing what I need to in order to build my best self.

All in all, I think dabbling in the kink community might be a worthwhile endeavor.