Friday, Sept. 11, 2015 2:09 PM
"A demisexual is a person who does not experience sexual attraction unless they form a strong emotional connection with someone. It's more commonly seen in but by no means confined to romantic relationships. The term demisexual comes from the orientation being "halfway between" sexual and asexual. Nevertheless, this term does not mean that demisexuals have an incomplete or half-sexuality, nor does it mean that sexual attraction without emotional connection is required for a complete sexuality. In general, demisexuals are not sexually attracted to anyone of any gender; however, when a demisexual is emotionally connected to someone else (whether the feelings are romantic love or deep friendship), the demisexual experiences sexual attraction and desire, but only towards the specific partner or partners." - AVENwiki
I have figured it out. I am a demisexual. For a long time I wondered if I was asexual because everyone around me was attracted to someone by looks alone, and I needed more than that to feel anything. I remember back in high school when my two good friends gave me a birthday card with an extremely muscular man on it in the buff. I remember it clearly because while they thought he was the hottest thing to ever grace the cover of a birthday card, I felt nothing. Maybe I felt disgust. I can't remember. All I know is that it has never turned me on to see a man (or a woman) nude. I have never been attracted to another person by their looks alone. While everyone my age was fawning over Brad Pitt and some other "hot" actor, I was wondering why I wasn't fawning over them, too.
Yet, as soon as I felt some kind of mental connection to someone, my hormones turned on and went into high gear. I figured it took mental stimulation for me to feel anything, but I didn't have a name for it. Now I do. It has taken me 20 years to figure this out. Then again, I could be what they call a "gray-a" asexual, as well. Either way, at least I know I'm not alone anymore. That makes me feel better.
There is something wrong with me. There has to be. I was sweeping the front porch yesterday when JR pissed me off for the umpteenth time. I wanted to take that broom and smack him. Literally. With the metal handle and not the broom part of the broom, too. The thing that scares me the most about it is I wasn't even worked up. I know I was pissed off (or getting there), but I felt this void of emotion. All I could think about was how nice it would be to take the broom and just hit him across the face with it, followed promptly by about a million hits on is body. I imagined quite clearly how nice it would feel to smack him so hard he would fall to the ground and never get up. Of course, this made me think about all the dreams I have where I'm hitting him with a metal baseball bat or just slapping the shit out of him.
I am not an abusive person. I have never liked hating or disliking someone. I have only slapped three people in my life. Once was in high school. I slapped my mother and she slapped me right back. I can't even remember why I slapped her. Then I slapped Kent once. He was drunk and belligerent at the time. The only other time was the time I slapped JR when he got up in my face screaming. I swear to God, this kid has made my life a living hell this past decade and I can't wait for him to get the hell out from underneath my roof. Nine more months and then I'm evicting him. I'm to the point where I don't care if it bothers Kent. He can go with him.
On a happier note... Todd the Toad made it back into our house last night. I was about to watch some TV before going to bed when I noticed Haley running circles around something. I went to look and there's Todd. Todd started jumping about and I screamed. Fortunately for the rest of the house it was not a blood curling scream like I would have used if it was a mouse. Kent came out and guided Todd back out the front door where I noticed there was a baby toad sitting in the rocks hiding. I guess I'll name that one Ted.