Hi, I’m Cairo! It’s a pleasure to meet you.
This website is a labor of love, my attempt to give a voice and create awareness for all the demisexuals out there.
My Demisexual Story
I feel like I need to start by warning everyone. It’s difficult for me to talk about myself and things I’ve struggled with. I will try my best to get it all out there in case it can help someone else who is going through the same thing.
For years I felt broken, like there was something wrong with me because I didn’t have the urge to go out and pick someone up for a night of fun. If I’m being honest, that sounds about as fun as going to the dentist.
I’ve always been the person who dates their best friend. The one people pine over for months, if not years, before I realize I want what they’re offering. My friends constantly make light of how hard I make people work for it. There were always jokes about me being picky and playing hard to get.
Through my formative years that weighed on me heavily. The pressure to put out, to go out, to meet people, date and be in relationships was immense. I didn’t know how to handle it.
Like many passive people who feel broken and a little embarrassed that they’re not like everyone else, and would prefer not to rock the boat, I did what everyone expected me to do. I dated, I went out; I entered relationships with no desire or attraction to speak of and I stayed in them because it was easier to do that than acknowledge that I was different and to rick the social consequences that would indubitably arise.
Discovering my Demisexuality
Realizing my demisexuality was a process. Of course I felt broken for a long time, but truly hoped that if I pretended to be normal for long enough, I wouldn’t have to fake it anymore. After years of faking crushes and trying not to cringe through dates, I found myself exhausted and miserable.
Eventually, I got to a point where I had to take a really long, hard look at my life. On paper, there was no reason for me to be as miserable as I was. After giving it a lot of thought, I realized most of my discontent came from relationships. From constantly pushing myself into situations that made me profoundly uncomfortable.
It took a while, but I finally learned how to value myself enough to stop putting myself in situations that didn’t make me feel good. It was only when I stopped trying to prove to myself and everyone else I’m not broken that I could make sense of my experiences.
This wasn’t an easy feat. I had no idea where to even start looking, and answers came by accident. I’m an avid reader (mostly romance novels) and somehow came across a book featuring a demisexual character.
This was my first time hearing the term demisexual. I didn’t really understand what it meant at that point but the character and I seemed to have a great deal in common relationship wise so I knew it was something I needed to look into more.
Like a good millennial, who realizes there’s something they don’t know, I pulled out my phone and Googled some things. I quickly figured out that a demisexual experiences sexual attraction only after an emotional bond has developed.
This information was amazing for me. I knew what asexuality was but never felt like the label applied to me because I do experience sexual attraction, just in rare circumstances.
My understanding was that you were asexual, or you weren’t. I thought it was black or white; I didn’t realize there were so many shades of grey.
But finally having found a label fit felt like a weight being lifted. For the first time, I didn’t feel broken or like I had to change myself to fit in. Suddenly the urge to “act normal” was a little less.
Knowing there was a word for people like me helped me understand myself better and finally begin working to accept myself. I finally realized I wasn’t as broken as I thought, and that was a powerful thing.
The problem, though, is that aside from a definition and a couple articles defining and explaining the word, I found little information about how to navigate the world as a demisexual.
Stories from and communities about people like me were few. As meaningful as it felt to have a word that described me, I wanted more. I wanted a community, a place to talk to other people like me, some tangible confirmation that I’m not the only one.
Deep down, I wanted to belong. I wanted to know I wasn’t the only one. Finding that label was my first step in becoming the confident person I am now. Over the years I removed myself from the toxic relationships I was in and gained to confidence not to fall back into the trap of being the person people expected me to be.
Life as a Demisexual
I wish I could say embracing the label flicked a switch, and every problem in my life vanished. But that’s not really the case.
Unfortunately, I still have the same problems. What has changed is I now have a wealth of knowledge about why I am the way I am and an entire community of people I can go to if I have questions or need advice.
I’ve started this blog hoping to help other people who sometimes struggle to navigate the world as a demisexual.
I also have the confidence to own my demisexuality.
I’ve learned that I don’t have to be in a relationship to be a complete and valuable person.
Since embracing the label, I’ve learnt how to say no and become comfortable enforcing my boundaries without worrying about the consequences. I’ve figured out how to say that I want to get to know someone better before the relationship takes a physical turn.
Being demisexual has taught me I’m not broken, and it’s completely valid for me to not only enforce my boundaries but to insist that people respect them, even if they don’t understand.
After all, I don’t owe anyone an explanation.
Want to share your story? Go for it!
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