Asexuality - Page 2

As i said it was time of civil war in 1989 in lebanon and the enemy party to the official army used to lodge in our building they took it as their center...we were evacuated from our homes...they stole many of our belongings. We stayed in the basement of the building. It was damp and the floor filled with water reaching just beneath your knee...as i say in one of my textts in "chronicles from the gutter" : you had to walk on water to see who is using daddy's new shaving cream.
I was object to three sexual abuses by these soldiers, there was no penetration but still it was traumatizing for a kid of 7 year old...people touching her body and sex, shoving their toung in her little mouth and all she could do is stand still and wonder what is it that she feels when those people who are ment to protect her are hurting her.
soldier number one: his name was George, he was 18 year old at that time. two times in a row he asked me to meet him in the back of the basement...i don't know why i went...the second time i managed to run away cause it was dark...his voice called me " Patil where are you" i said "i'm still near you (haddak)", this time there was my brother with me, i thought that it would stop him but it didn't cause he did the same thing to my brother too. The second day he gaved me that deceiving look and i felt guilty for running away. Hell! why did i feel that? whu didn't he feel guilty for doing what he did to me?
The second soldier: his name was Fouaad, he was married and was presumebly in love with his new wife with whom he ate bread and onions on the porch of the building facing our balcony. One day, when the state of war was calmer he invited me and my bro to tha building from which you can see the frontiere of the lebanese army through the mine field. I was wearing a green skirt, it was one of my favorite dresses; it had pineapple and strawberries on it. My brother went on touching big guns and Fouad managed to get his hand under my skirt while pointing with his other hand the frontieres...all under a blue sky. In one moment my favorite dress turned to the detested one.
Third soldier: his name was Toni abou chaaya, he was a friend of he family, he was in his thirties and my mom was his object of desire ( she is still the prettiest lady in the neighborhood :] )
One afternoon my dad offered him a ride to another center in the mountains. Me, him and my bro were sitting in the backseat. The trip was long and borring. My mom was daydreaming through the window, my dad had his eyes on the road, his hands upon the wheel but the hands of Toni unzipped his pants and let out his penis and whispered in my ear to touch it... i whispered back a no, so what he did is take my hand and force me to touch it, i pull back and he brings it back. I don't know why i didn't say something about it in the moment to my parents... i think i was afraid cause soldiers are supposed to be strong and i didn't want my dad to get hurt so i sealded my cry. We dropped him off where we were suppose to. On the road back home my dads car broke down, it was an old navy blue volvo. There was a friends house nearbu so we stayed in for a night. The first thing i did when i arrived in my parents acquaintences was to rush to the bathroom and rubb my hands hard on soap and wash the dirt down over and over again. I really felt dirty. I felt that it's as if he pissed in my hands. Once my hands were clean i went to the refrigerator just out of curiosity. Jesus! all there was in the refrigerator is a sheeps skull...i got terrified and felt it as a bad omen to all that happened during the day.
A year later when the war came to an end and that the soldiers were out of the building, i told my mom that this Toni forced my brother Norig to touch his penis ( why did i say that, why did i take it off from myself as if it didn't happen to me but to my bro? i was so ashamed to admitt it) all my mom could say in an outcry was " maybe he was holding his pee for so long ( remember the road was long), i wasn't convinced and i kept i in for a long time, eighteen years till i burst it out, they felt guilty cause they didn't turn their heads to see what's going on in the backseat and their trusted friend.

In the next post i'll speak of my adolescence. It is hard to speak of those things cause all of you people are strangers but then again you are anonymous strangers without eyes to lay your judgment upon me. the Words that you might say are my toys.

Thankyou for sharing such sensitive things.

I had meant to post in this thread about some personal things myself, but i don't think i have anything to say that would really count now.

I hope those pigs died in the war.

What's the use of them dying. they are human's whio summoned their sex as their weakness

Wow - that was extremely brave and open of you to share these things with us. I commend you pupa ria! I'm also amazed that you have such vivid recollections from ages 5-7. I'm working on remembering as much as I can so I can regain the memories I had of my youth. I'm wondering if some of it was repressed.

Did you ever go through any stages in your life with moderate to heavy drug use? I think, for me, that's what made me forget a lot of my past.

Heavy drug use! they were always there but it reached it's peak three years ago but i think that the drugs helped me one way or another cause it made me open doors that i never thought i would...they gave me a wreckless courage. Sometimes i felt that what it made me find out was bigger than myself.
What was more crucial than drugs about this issue was my forgetfullness. After trying to speak about it to my mother and her finding silly excuses just so she won face a terrible fact like that concerning her children, i stopped thinking about it and eventualy i burried the memory. Till the age of 23 it's as if it never hapenned to me. Then i started majoring in psychology and was incited to remember but even then i used to tell the story inside my head as if it belonged to someone else. I didn't feel it in my bones. I was so impersonnal about it. This until my break up with a guy i fell in love with eventualy. That shook my foundations. Who i was, who i were and who i am not (ideals) got all mixed up, i couldn't tell the difference anymore. I became everyone and yet no one. In another post they are talking about repressing demons...it's as if those demons are strangers in you...they are not, they are part of you and you got to learn to listen to them and put them on trial, the conscient you being the best judge cause it's an intersection between heaven and hell. This is what i mean to say about it: we are heaven and hell at the same time, our task, our obligation to make life possible is to create a harmony in between them which is the name that people call you with. You are neither in your subconscious, neither in your supraconscionce, you are a limbo.

You know by telling past events it helped me to form a cohesive idea inside my head but i'm having the feeling that it's not the story that matters as it happenned, what counts is the impression it left on me. So telling my story doesn't make me brave in the least. There is a feeling that i'm running away from something by doing it. So i'm not going to tell word by word my adolescent years and what came later. I'm just going to talk about the person i was, how i perceived things.

I'm going to be brief on my adolescence cause i see it as a time of natural ignorence. at that time there wasn't an "I". Back then i didn't impose on myself idealistic images of myself to conduct my behaviour and what i wanted to see myself to be. The best conductors are those who can have complete control on theirselves but it can also be a probable possibility that they are great liars believing theirselves in their lies with a few too many.
I live in Lebanon but i never belonged. All my relations where based on the idea that i wont be staying long with one person cause it is not where i want to end...i want to see places and different faces with different desires just to see in whom i may find the most compatible desire that i have of myself. I'm an egoist, my mother knows that. My egoism is not based on getting any material priority it is based on the priority of my existance. " Mother mud, here i am, your gifted child, born impregnated with gods."

At 14 i fell in love with the wrong person to rebell against what my community wanted me to be. We are an armenian community and we have our fanatico-moralities.

I was always the devil's advocat, the "black sheep" of the family hehehe you know as i'm saying this i'm thinking that it would be ok to drop dead right now...I'm high and dry)
But as my parents got used to this behavior of mine and that i had nothing left to oppose to, I started rebelling against myself...did things that i didn't feel comfortable about. I always say to myself that i live in a bubble but the truth is that i have none...you are my bubble. Imagine what will become of me if you pop into thin air cause you tought i was weighing you down? =.

Everytime I put myself infront of a blank screen to tell the story of what has been, I ask myself what is there to tell, what's there to remember? I hold back each time cause iv'e made an oath that whenever I will have something to say, it should be under the rule of authenticity. i can tell it simple and easy, spice it up make it convenient for my ears. I don't want to hide, there's nothing to protect, I just want to let lose and that doesnt happen so often, so I try to intoxicate myself till I lose all control over who I set my self to be. I want bare naked truth when it comes to love. That's why I held back for so long. The story isn't much of a story, it's a universal destiny.

As I said, before till 23 I used to merely dip my feet in the relationship pool, I never took a full plunge. With this guy I took the jump and was emotionally open to anything that might be. But was I a mature person to make the best out of it? No. I was objected to my insecurities, and if I loved this guy, I loved him in a sickly way. I stopped running away and little by little I really liked the person that he was. He had a world of his own, he was creative and never bored in his loneliness, he lived in a colorful cocoon and me instead of taking him out, I went in and I was lovingly welcomed. I loved living in his world, I got addicted to his presence. I looked up to the dream but I forgot all about the dreamer and as for me I gave up on who I was. What seemed to be clear water from the surface turned into a big swamp filled with dead bodies and parasites once it got stirred by the finger of another woman. The relation ended long before this woman arrived though, it ended the minute I turned his existence into my cocoon. When we started going out with each other he was in a state where he was reaching the end of a spiritual metamorphosis. I always felt that he was at the beginning of his freedom flight after being held in silence for long. He was in a position where he could share the beauty of his inner world. I felt this all along but I couldn't rationalize the feeling just yet. It's just now that I can understand the person he was. He came from a wealthy family and he always expressed guilt about this. He was a melancholic boy ( that's the impression he gave of himself) but he was also selfish as every 'poor little rich boy is'. Go ahead and call me a senseless bitch for saying this. But it's the image he sold to the world. I didn't give a fuck, I loved the person he was within his mind. Yes when I was a child I prayed upon my porcelain angels to give me the power to read minds and that's what it happened but in a very twisted way, but as Machiavelli says 'the end justifies the means'. So it happened that I became every face i encountered, for more then seven years I was a mirror. Now it is done, I stopped standing in front of people with a hammer in my head. I killed people to get over them. Where there's a life there's a way and you just don't want to give your self hope. I couldn't do that with him, he still lingers on in my head. I sometimes feel that I became him and leading the same life as his. The cover of my chrysalis is the memory of him. This makes me sad cause I just can't understand after all I have experienced these 3 years I still can't get him out of my head. He is always here. I turned him into an idea so that he could survive in me. See why it took me so long to continue my posts in this topic? It pushes me to face the illusion that I am.
A puppet cannot understand and comprehend the value that life has for a free mortal. With him I forgot what I myself wanted, I invested all my being in him, all I needed was that he takes me with him wherever he was planning on going, that was enough for me. As you see It was a question of addiction with me not love. Pure narcissism and self love. But back at that time I didn't see this, I was submerged in my ignorance and self denial. I'm not proud of this but I'm most thankful that it happened cause It slapped me in the face and woke me up and if his memory is the skin of my cocoon, it is going to be something that I leave behind. I owe it to him ( but It would've been more humane if he was honest with me instead of playing me around by the fear that he would hurt the me, but would have I listened? Or would it be also subjected to denial?) All the times that I was crying over this, I was actually crying over myself, because by losing him, I lost myself with it too.
This brings me to the question of chris d when he asked me why do I feel like a child again. It's exactly because of this because of the self loss, in psychoanalytic terms It is due to regression that is caused by emotional trauma, it's a defense mechanism
It was my process of individuation, it's only now that I feel myself existing, seing, understanding. In the past I only gathered and threw things in a pile of other things I picked up along the way, I'm accepting the responsibility to give it a structure. This make me think that each individual is a piece of art and you have to be fully committed to it to turn into your masterpiece.
How did this experience change me? Well first my thoughts and emotions gained coherence, I became able to understand them and hence express them exactly the way I want it, my thought is no more one step ahead of me, I'm in me now. It also increased my sensitivity to things. I started enjoying the most little things, I have more self esteem now in my feminity and intellect, it helped me artistically. All that sadness led me little by little to create a world of symbols and meanings and this opened my eyes to nature, to the world that surrounds me. I actually listen now selflessly to people even music. I feel that everything is talking to me  most importantly I feel that I am present to myself right now. I also owe this to the child in me who at a certain point stopped growing ( for reasons I cannot put my finger on) but seing the nightmare I was in she had to wake up and lead me into the real. I was like a craftwork a collage of this and that, this mass of confusion torn down, only the one remains, ur true essence and by adhering to it comes the sense of unity.
And as it comes to asexuality, I don't think it's where I'm at, it's just that I started valuing my body more and I don't want to put it into situations that she doesn't approve of just for the sake of being approved.

Btw, the ghost of him left my head a week ago. we happened to be in the same pub, he was sitting at the bar, me with a friend at the back-table, what we both spontaneously did is smile to each other, that little smile that says we are ok. and just when he was leaving he turned at me and waved then went out under a dripping sky, at that very moment i felt that a great weight has been lifted off of me. ah! i love life
and also coming to the asexuality theme i met this guy who the very thought of him arouses my body, enough said to know that i am highly sexual hehehe

Good for you pupa! It seems like you're coming out on top of this. I found the descriptions of your relationship with the "melancholic boy" to be most interesting - maybe because the world of relationships is mostly unknown to me? You're a natural story teller. Thanks for sharing!

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I also think that all of these people who identify themselves as asexual are running from deeply rooted problems and find solace in this community of denial.

What do you guys think?

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I actually found this "swankivy" lady when I was 15 years old, and had always admired the amount of creativity and energy she put into her website, budgieland, which then became swankivy.com later on. I never got the impression that she was "bored" and didn't have much life force. Her videos don't come across to me that way.

I came across her when I was looking for my own answers about sex at that age, since most girls at my school were always discussing some aspect of it and being very crude. Not that I've really had much of a problem with this, but it interested me that they seemed so fixated on it, a lot more than I was. To this day, I have a very low sex drive, so I feel like I definitely relate to swankivy & asexuales at a greater level than a lot of non-asexuals. I wouldn't identify myself as asexual because I don't have a complete lack of desire - it's just very weak.

I'm not sure if it's a chemical imbalance or what have you, I wouldn't rule out trauma, but she seems genuine to me when she rates the probability of having trauma to be very low (she doesn't rule it out completely, since repressed memories are repressed memories...)
For myself, I'm not sure if my weak sex drive has anything to do with the past. I was never sexually abused, at least not to my knowlegde, though I have had body image issues from quite early on.

Since then however, my body image has improved quite a great deal, and I feel like I now have a rather healthy level of acceptance for my body and appearance, compared to other girls that I know of who are around my age. That being said, my sex drive has still remained very low and I would even say that it has even perhaps become lower since high school.

I also think it would be of interest for me to note that I don't have a strong physical attraction to males (or females), and can say that I have never lusted after any kind of male physique, purely. It has most definitely always been about demeanor and personality. That's not to say that I'm never physically attracted to a male, just that it only ever seems to happen after I have seen, at the least, their demeanor. This means it would be true to say that if I see a picture of a buff guy in his underwear, I would not feel any sexual attraction towards him. And I don't. I can honestly say that I have never experienced such an attraction.

So I'm not sure why this is the way it is for me and I have no idea if it is actually a common thing with other females. I have heard that females tend to become more sexual later on in their lives, so perhaps it has something to do with this.
I don't feel like my low sex drive is unnatural and I don't feel like I am supressing anything, I feel that this is how I naturally am and always have been. So I don't view asexuality as a negative or unhealthy state at all (although I'm sure it can be for some people), as I have experiences with prolonged lack of sex drive that I do not feel are negative reactions to anything, but I have no idea what is actually behind it.

I hope this offers a little more insight on the topic at least.

I would agree that sex is a part of a healthy relationship, people bond together doing it, and I also agree with you stating that people who have deeply rooted issues are probably more likely to be asexual.

One group you mentioned "the cutters" doesn't exactly make sense to me though. I'm a cutter, and I still have a sex drive, a major one at that. I know at least 10 other cutters personally, and none of them have a problem with sex. I'm not really sure you could count it as one of your sub-categories. I think it's too specific...

And it seems to be wired for human beings to want to desire and be desired like that, not to mention reproducing, so I think something must happen for the instinct to be shut off.

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And it seems to be wired for human beings to want to desire and be desired like that, not to mention reproducing, so I think something must happen for the instinct to be shut off.

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I think there's such a spectrum within the realms of human sexuality, human desire. We have homosexuals, heterosexuals, bisexuals, people with strong sex drives, people with weak sex drives and people with no sex drive. To me, it fits, it's a full spectrum.

I believe there are a lot more asexuals in existance than we think, and as swankivy has said in one of her videos, there's even a spectrum within the realm of asexuality, between asexuals who have a complete lack of interest in relationships, to those who wish to be involved with someone romanticaly.

Some people don't need sex in order to form deep bonds with their partner, and some do. We are all different afterall, and we all feel differently about sex and what it means. It means more to some than others, and that's okay, in my eyes. As long as everyone is being true to themselves in the end, that's all that matters.