I was a very cute little girl growing up. And young males were always attracted to me. Always bothering me.
While I found the behavior of the opposite sex quite annoying, most females would have enjoyed the attention.
When I was coming up in the 1980’s many of the children living around me within my neighborhood were having sex at a very early age.
One of the youngest girls that I knew of at the time was about the age of eight. The boy whom she had had sexual relations with was at the age of either ten, or eleven.
They both lived on the same street that I was living on. Neither one of their parents were good examples of what a mother or father should have been.
Anything of a sexual nature was the last thing that had ever crossed into my mind. I was a very content child, enjoying my life, playing with my barbie dolls, and loving the puppy that I had.
I had a very good mother who took care of me and who had gave me her undivided love and attention. I never went out looking for love, affection, or attention. I did not have to. I was a very secure young person.
If I did lack the love and attention that every child should have, and that every child deserves from their parent. I definitely would not have searched for it by spreading my legs to any young or old man who had acquired to come along. That would have just been totally absurd in my opinion.
As I was getting older and reaching into my late teenage years I had still found the amorous behavior of the males to be annoying. All that I knew was that I was not at the least bit attracted or interested in any one of them and just wished that they would all go away and leave me alone.
I had known ever since the age of fifteen that I was asexual. And I was very proud and in no way ashamed. To me being asexual was just as normal and natural as breathing. I did not know anything else.
I did not have any desire to have intercourse with a guy. I did not even want to kiss one.
There were people around me at the time who had never heard of the term “asexual”. When I’d tell certain people that I wasn’t interested in males they’d immediately speculate or assume that something negative had to have happened within my life.
That maybe I had experienced a bad relationship. Or had seen other people experience bad romantic relationships. Neither one of the conclusions that were drawn were anywhere near the truth.
Another huge misconception that certain people had about me was thinking that they could “change” or “repair” me. Repair what? There was nothing about me that was wrong or broken. If anything, I was very well put together, and perfect.
I could not understand why people would make such a big deal when it came to their romantic encounters, the attractions that they had for other people, and the way that they were just ready to jump into relationships with people that they had crushes on.