In which Lorcan writes about (his) sexuality using an extended metaphor of the ocean.

I’ve learnt this week that sexuality really is a very fluid thing. Of course, I was already aware of this, but I’d never felt the affects personally.

I'm one of those people that feels being open about stuff is the best way to teach others, even if I only hold that law to information about transitioning or topics related to it. But this is connected, really.

As previously mentioned, my partner visited last week for four days. As a result, I’ve learnt a hell of a lot about myself, and become more comfortable with the body I’m forced to live in until I’m able to adjust it to my liking with surgery and testosterone injections.

The thing is, I’ve lived happily for 16 years and 9 months under the term ‘asexual’. It’s something I’m comfortable with, something I was rather proud to call myself. Sure, some people see it as a problem, something that needs fixing and changing. That you should see someone. But if you are asexual, or you’re actually accepting, you know it’s no more a problem than being gay is. It’s simply an absence of sexual attraction, and still a valid sexual orientation.

I’ve had that argument a hundred times. From my family, from people who I thought were friends. The idea that it would change, that I hadn’t met the right person, or I should broaden my horizons. Really, that’s incredibly offensive, but as it turns out, they were all right. About me, at least.

I’m not about to start suggesting it’s the same for everybody. In fact, I’m adamant about the idea of people having their own lifestyles and sexualities and people leaving them alone.

I’ve become so used to the term I latched onto a few years ago to explain my (lack of) feelings, and suddenly I find myself without it, and a new way of looking at things. I’m stranded in a sea of sexual lifestyles and I don’t know which horizon to swim to. I’d feel safe, if I had my partner by my side to ground me, but she’s on the other side of a physical ocean, and though I’m set to travel there in five weeks, I currently have to struggle alone with no idea what to do with myself and a sense of loss.

It’s not a bad experience at all. It was unplanned, yes, but I learnt new things about my partner, and myself and we’re closer than ever before for the trust we’ve added to our already strong connection, and it really was a wonderful thing, but now I feel an urge to find a new column, like a riptide threatening to drag me under unless I keep myself afloat.

Titles mean very little to me, as do names, but I feel overwhelmed, raw and out of control, and it’s the only thing that I can hold onto.

Queer, perhaps, is something I’ll stick to. It’s all encompassing, it covers everything.

In the space of seven days, I learnt just how fluid life can be, and my life is better for it. But it’s a shame to feel I’m no longer part of an asexual community I once watched from afar and sometimes joined in with. I shouldn’t feel that way, since I’ve never felt a desire to get in with a heterosexual group at all, but then I was never in that area, so I don’t know what I’m missing.

People used to say ‘you’re so lucky, you’ll never get distracted when you should be working’, but now that’s changed. I’m luckier now, because I know that once I get to start Testosterone, everything will rocket, and I’d rather have an understanding of what I’m in for than get suddenly tossed overboard and be forced to sink or swim.

I suppose the point of this post is partially because I wanted to acknowledge the change in my life, but also because I wanted to really show how much things can shift massively in the space of just a few hours.

I said before that I suspected my asexuality was connected to my gender dysphoria, and I was correct in my theory. Once I became more relaxed with myself, I was able to, well, get to a point where a post like this is required. I'm happier with my skin now, even though I don't want to keep the gender I've been given. But in time, I may love my trans* body, like many others I admire. Like Buck Angel, but more on him another time, because that guy deserves his own post.

And I wouldn't have that without my partner. I wouldn't even be admitting that I am trans*. She really is amazing.

Sarah-Jane Smith says life on earth can be an adventure too, if you just know where to look, and her words have never been more true. I'm not sure this is what she meant, though. But I did always suspect her to be a lesbian, so perhaps.

This metaphor was originally just something that happened by accident. But a friend of mine I’m talking to asked if I used an ocean specifically for this topic because it’s ‘Wishy-washy-weird-and-damp’, so I’ll end with that and leave it there. Thanks Ivan.