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.

A revellation

Just before I watched the Doctor Who finale, I realised what may be the connection between my dysphoria and my asexuality.

It came about when I was reading The Colour Purple. It's the book I'm set to read in English, except it's all about the main girl, Celie, writing letters to god. The letters are rather blunt. She clearly explains her own father sexally abusing her, the woman known as Shug Avery teaching her how to pleasure herself, and I told my partner that if I got dysphoria from that scene, I'd very very upset.

But not long after, I realised that I hadn't needed to worry about dysphoria at all. The discomfort and internal trauma I was feeling was linked directly to being asexual. I didn't feel like I should be reading it because I was so out of my depth. I don't experience any of that stuff, because I don't feel sexual attraction. Reading such a detailed description of Celie's body, the part of her that nobody but Mr ____, her husband, would see, the part on women have, made me want to throw the book aside and not go near it again.

So here's the thing. I am asexual because I have dysphoria. They are both one in the same. I don't get attracted because I'm so thrown off by my own body.

Whether or not this may change with the appropriate surgery, I don't know. Perhaps I never will, since I don't intend to get bottom surgery. But either way, it's good to finally know that I'm not just broken, or 'looking for the right person'. I always knew I wasn't, since that's a load of crap. I can't control my asexuality any more than anybody else can control who they're attracted to. Besides, I've already found the person I've been looking for, even at this early age, so it's not that.

I'm not even beginning to say this is the same for everybody. Many people just don't have a sex drive, and that's completely fine. Of course it is. But now I know the cause of mine, I feel a little more in control of everything than I did. And that is worth everything.

Uncle Mark

Let's get this done first. I have had 100 page views. That's fantastic! Not sure what to say about, but triple figures felt like an important moment. I've had no comments or messages ever though, so I'm not sure if just my partner 100 times or other people too. I'm not fussed, since this is just for thoughts, not popularity, so it's all fine.

I should really doing my Media homework, in which I've chosen Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy and am exploring the different forms of media it appears in, but instead I tagged along with my mum to a photo shoot of sorts with James and Uncle Mark for their album cover.
  James is a family friend who's trying to be a writer but foolishly read his work through before he finished and now can't complete his currently 40,000 word novel. Uncle Mark isn't actually my uncle, but is my friend's. I called him it once and my friend asked him if he'd be my uncle, and he was fine with it. Also, just 'Mark' makes me think of Gatiss.
  They recreated the famous Kray's photo below, despite Mark looking more like a mix between Gatiss, Johnny Lee Miller, and Jeremy Renner, especially with a beard Gatiss uses sometimes. And James has a long hair that is kind of a long bowl cut, curling inwards slightly at the bottom around chin-length. After the Kray photo, uncle Mark played the piano in the corner barefoot as a tribute to Lennon while James sat on top of it. The photos were seriously awesome.






He is by far my favourite uncle. While James and mum left to have a cigarette we discussed sixth form, university and how we both love to stay up until 4am, but once it starts getting light you think 'I really shouldn't be up right now' or, when you lose track completely and think your watch must be lying to you. One the way home he admitted he was going to change out of his suit because he didn't mind wearing it but it makes him think of times when he had to be someone he is not, and he should be heading home right about now actually, as I write this, on the train back to Waterloo. We bitched about annoying women and someone behind him one time who seemed to be going through her entire phonebook, ringing them to tell them she was on a train.
  When we had to part he told me he wishes me the best of luck with my A levels and he'll probably see me next month, since my friend tells me he's coming down and I come visit them both. He added that he's glad I'm friends with his niece, she needs more friends like me, and to try to keep her in line.
  As a side note, I noticed he had a wedding ring on, a simple silver band with slightly raised edges to make a sort of valley between them, and asked my friend about it via text. I needn't have, since he mentioned his husband. This man gets better and better. He's quietly camp, thin, tall and just generally funny and nice. Me and my friend are thinking of staying with him overnight or something when Thor 2 comes out, because we want to see it in London and staying with him is better than a hotel, which I doubt we'd be allowed.
  So that was a bit of an appreciation post.

In other news, I helped at wedding yesterday with a family friend's company that uses fine bone china and serves tea and stuff, and while I was clearing up, I heard someone mention Asexuality. I couldn't join in, of course, since I'm just staff, but it was lovely to hear it and know other people know it exists. I forget sometimes that not everyone is clueless and disbelieving.
  My mum told me I'd be the 'right hand man' to one of the people who run the small company, and that really felt good, even if she didn't mean it how I took it.

I've been looking around a few blogs, mostly run by Transmen, just to keep grounded on it all, and see how other people are doing, and one guy posted a double picture of him before going onto Testosterone and 1 and a half years later. His face had narrowed out, he said his hips got slimmer, and he took on a much more male appearance, however his hairline went back just slightly, as it would for a guy in his early 20's, since female's hairline is further forward naturally. Starting to think it might be worth the eventual hairloss.
  Also watched as a kid, Ethan, from France, injected their first T dose, to show how not scary it is, and document it. The jealousy hurt a little, but it looks so easy. I don't know. I might go for it in the end.
  My partner said when we'd first met, last November, she's thought I was a guy. I'd been wearing a blue hoodie that effectively hides my torso and a neckscarf over that to disguise myself, and my hair was a little longer, but she had no idea until I had to write my name in the book I was having signed. I figured that's a good sign my voice is deep enough, since it's deeper than most of my given gender, but even when dressed to present as male I still get female pronouns. So I'm not so sure any more. Although, that may be because of the ring I wear, the one my partner gave me. It's distinctly femme.
  Last night, she was having a drink and hanging out with some friends at her friend's house, and told me she'd mentioned me only as Lo, since Lorcan in Swedish is difficult, and Lo is a gender neutral name. To know I'm who I want to be - in another country - is comforting.

Right, need to be working.

The name's Bond. Lorcan Bond.

It was our induction day today.

Bit odd. We had to do a performance, and the title was Bond: Live and Let Die. We had to use the music to do something we designed ourselves. I was James Bond, a role I wanted for a very long time.
  We found celebrity masks and used those on the main characters. I was Johnny Depp.... As James Bond. Two wonderful people. Two Alan Carr's stole the queen and prince Phillip. I got to wear a black suit, which helped me feel a little better.
  However, my Bond Girl was my ex girlfriend. We're friends now, and it's fine, but having her circle me sexily and do what I'm sure was a very sexy expression to the tune 'Mr Loverboy' when I introduced myself was very much not good. Thank christ I had my mask on so I didn't have to fix a facial expression. It was... awkward, at best. I wish my partner had been there to be my Bond Girl. She'd have been amazing. Other than that, we did well. Got to the finals but didn't win. There were much better tutor groups than us.
  And, as a result of my walking home in black trousers, white shirt, black tie and waistcoat, I'm fairly sure I caught a girl glancing at me repeatedly and smiling slightly at me. I believe that's 'checking me out', right? I don't know. Either way, she stands no chance, since I'm a happily involved guy. Still, major Male points.

Yesterday, I had a free lesson, so I went to a cafeteria on my own, since all my friends were in classes, and got invited to sit with some colleagues from my old school. They asked about me and my ex, I explained we weren't together because I'm Asexual, and a girl said she'd heard of it, and I verified what it means, and it was all fine.
  Then, topic turned to sex, and then to Hex, the local Trans*. As far as I gather, he's on the hormones to become a woman, but still identifies as male. The five of them were trying to work out what it meant, since he is still very much a guy, not having had bottom surgery, but no longer has a flat chest, and maybe is registered as female officially. I think he's neutral, but I wasn't going to try to explain that and the ze/hir pronouns. I interjected with the idea that we address him by the pronouns he asks of us, and the girl who knew about Asexuality said 'you're on Tumblr, aren't you? I can tell.' and thus I had to go on to explain it's not gender identification disorder, it's dysphoria, and of course it lead to what that is, what it means, how it works.
  Suffice to say I felt a little drained and vulnerable afterwards.

Tomorrow I have one and a half lessons, but I have to be at school for all five. So I have a lot of time on my hands. It's supposed to be triple Critical Thinking, but how the hell are you supposed to think at a critical level for three hours straight? So we're just doing one and a half. The rest is free time and a study period in which I have nothing to study.

Everyone keeps asking why I have so much free time but it's just because I'm supposed to have nine lessons of everything but I now only have five of CT. It's awesome! I plan to take a few extra pounds so I can get a few coffee's at the cafeteria and write or something.