2.0 KiB
date, weight
| date | weight |
|---|---|
| 2020-01-15 | 8 |
So if sex makes you feel anxious and confused, how does being asexual --- or perhaps autochorissexual --- make you feel?
Other than uncomfortable and itchy? I think that's how I described it earlier.
Yes.
I guess it makes me feel anxious and confused in new and exciting ways. It's comfortable enough for JD and I to not have a a sexual relationship. He's still a gay guy, for the most part, so for me to have transitioned to the extent that I have means that we don't really click on a sexual level anymore, anyway.
He's not my only partner, though. Robin is still sexual. Barac is still sexual. Colton is still sexual. I have all these sexual people in my life, and they're all people I'm attracted to and with whom I've shared sexuality in one way or another, but with whom I mostly feel disinclined to have sex with for any number of reasons.
And Judith?
We had penetrative sex for the first time --- a sort of exploratory thing --- when last she visited, and shortly after, she mentioned feeling ace, herself.
You enjoyed it.
I did, that hasn't changed from what I mentioned before. Sex feels good. It feels better now after surgery than it did before, too.
It's just that, having had surgery has only removed one aspect of the anxious and confused grossness that goes along with the act. It only removed the dysphoria (and of course the complications of phimosis). It didn't fix my other hangups.
What are the other hangups?
The discomfort.
The mess.
The guilt.
The imperfection.
Imperfection?
The sense that were we doing something else, we might both be happier.
The sense that, no matter how smoothly I might move, I must surely be doing a bad job, I must be falling short in some way.
The sense that, no matter how many times I ask the other person whether something feels good or is allowed, I must be somehow betraying their consent by gaining pleasure from this act.