Reflection On Human Sexuality

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When I was a teenager, I found a lot of things very confusing.

Did I believe that God really existed? (No, but I didn 't yet know that atheism was a valid option, so I struggled internally with this question a bit, avoiding admitting where my beliefs truly fell and instead trying to find a way to believe.)

Was my mother’s parenting style bad enough to count as abuse?
(Yes, it was. In fact at age eighteen I cut off all contact with her, to protect my own mental health and possibly physical safety too. She still doesn 't know I’m an atheist or am asexual.)

And then there was that broad subject of human sexuality.

That one was a doozy.

Until I was almost twenty-four years old, I found myself still trying to solve the puzzles of
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If I was a little confused by the whole notion of attraction, clearly I merely needed to do a better job analyzing my own experiences.

So I would try to figure out if there was a chance I might be attracted to women, or what men were my type. Then, I 'd leave the question alone for months — or even possibly years — at a time. Much later I concluded that sexual desires are things I 'll never feel, and so on some level, they 'll always be a mystery to me. But with each passing year, the mystery felt more overwhelming — became urgent to be demystified, even. I didn 't know asexuality existed. I thought my mind and body were normal. But slowly a new feeling of cognitive dissonance was emerging, threatening to tear me apart. Normal minds don’t struggle so much with this question. Normal bodies… well, it 's a long story.

In my only ever romantic partnership, a relationship which spanned months, I had revealed my body to my boyfriend. He had treated me with nothing but kindness, and seemed to actually appreciate my body exactly as it was both clothed or unclothed. I had been unprepared for him to have such positive feelings for my body.

My body is overweight, my hair often full of frizz, and my face just as acne-ridden as a teenager’s and lacking any makeup to hide the blemishes. Society had instilled in me a shame over most of how I looked, but here was a twenty-two year old guy who felt only respect and admiration for me, and as a twenty-three year
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