I don’t need to defend myself, but I feel I need to advocate for us asexual middle-agers who -- despite who we were before, whatever the hell came before, who we fucked, loved, identified as, whatever -- are whole now.
Think of the first person you dated. Would this person have been the best choice for your life partner? Go even further back, and imagine the first person you had a crush on. Finding a great partner is complicated, and expecting yourself to get it right on the first try is unreasonable. It’s ...
I’m so thankful that my wise 12- year-old self knew it wasn’t truly about the boy. It was a spell I was casting on myself. It was, ultimately, a lifeline in a challenging passage.