Trauma Doesn't Make You Stronger

 It's taken a very long time for me to be comfortable with the act of sexual intimacy. I'm on the asexual spectrum, and sex has never been at the forefront of what I value the most in a relationship. It has never been a dealbreaker for me in any way, and lack of sex to me does not signify a failing relationship. But not all of that disregard is rooted in me being ace. A small part of it is due to learned – or taught to be more precise – patterns of thinking.  When I hit puberty at the age of 11 just like my mom, the girls in the locker rooms taught me to be ashamed of my body. They wrongfully violated my personal space and harassed me for something I absolutely could not control. As my body was changing at a rapid rate, I felt even more helpless at the mercy of my Friends, because this was something that was fundamentally decided FOR me – by my genetics.  And here I was, being turned into a public spectacle for discreetly grabbing a pad out of my backpack before going to the ba

 When I was eleven years old, I got my very first professional sketchbook. It was marketed to be specifically for artists that were looking for that authentic manga feel to their art – it even had a silly image of some anime boy on the cover. I was so excited to start drawing like a professional, to have a legit sketchbook with legit manga lineart pens, just for drawing all those pretty anime girls. At the time, I was reading a relatively newly translated shoujo manga. I loved the story, I loved the main character, she was very pretty. I ended up drawing my versions of the covers of the manga volumes with her drinking tea and holding a whisk and a bowl in her hands in that new sketchbook I had just bought. As the story progressed and I got to know the characters even better, I found myself really liking one of the love interests. He was a sweet guy, somewhat pretty, and very relatable to me. I saw myself in him a lot as an isolated and abused kid who was afraid of literally everyone an

 When I first came out to my parents, I was 16 years old and I told them I identified as bisexual. My father didn't react in any particular way, but my mother said something immediately those words had left my lips: "I thought you were a full-gay!" The situation had been so nerve-wracking to me that I waited until my childhood best friend was visiting me, so that I could have her as my emotional support. It wasn't that I was scared of my parents' reactions; I knew they would accept me and love me all the same. It was just the moment of actually saying those words out loud and admitting to it – to myself as much as to my parents. Admit that I liked girls.  At 16, I thought that I was bi, but that turned out to be completely false. Being in a committed relationship with a man for over three years taught me a lot about myself, mainly the differences between platonic and romantic love, and what sexual attraction even means. Because that, I knew, was something I did no

 I think I was around twelve years old when I started to fear the shower. I remember taking showers when there was nobody home but me and our cat, just how scared I was of my surroundings. It didn't make any sense to me back then; I was home, and home was a safe place for me. But it's like that didn't matter at all, the environment was irrelevant. It was the shower itself that bothered me. This was a time in my childhood when I started experiencing a variety of irrational fears of the unknown, supernatural things and stuff like that. For years, I attributed that fear to one particular virtually interactive manhwa short story I came across on the internet. There's no doubt that that terrifying story of body horror and unnatural sounds of the human body being crushed did scare the living shit out of me. But it wasn't the end-all-be-all that I had always thought that it was. Because I had an epiphany. showers 2. They were always staring at me. Always analyzing every

 I never understood why it mattered to them so much. If they truly hated being there just as much as I did, why did they spend all that energy on worrying about things that didn't involve them in any way? If they wanted to get out of there as much as I did, why did they choose to linger around and steal glances any more than was absolutely necessary or appropriate?  Granted, I have come to realize that the way these kinds of people think and operate is completely outside of the realm of my understanding or comprehension. It's like their wave length is so far beyond my reach that it is futile for me to even try to reach that frequency. But that doesn't stop me from trying, because the reasons for their actions always seem to be so obvious to everyone else – everyone who wasn't even involved in the situation. So why am I struggling so much to understand even a smidgen of it? But my inability to understand is not a new thing. These things baffled me back then, and even to

  Why else would they say those kinds of things? It's all just envy, don't worry about it! You're way ahead of them, that's why they comment on your body like that. Just don't pay them any mind, they don't deserve your attention anyway. People always try to find a justification for sexual harassment. They find ways to play it off as something that doesn't really matter as much as you feel it violating your entire being. That it's just them joking around, they don't actually feel that way about you. Especially if they're of the same gender as you are, because that would be gay! And gay people don't exist here! Now, thinking back on those moments, I can say with certainty that at least one of my Friends was a closeted queer girl. She was being so obnoxious about it, it kept going on for years. I mean come on, there is no reason for another girl to be staring at your boobs enough to be able to determine their cup size – unless the gayness is in

 When I go back to those years, those days, those moments, a paralyzing sensation of dread sets over me. It makes me feel violated all over again, and in a lot of ways, I think I am just now truly experiencing the horrible emotions those events caused within me, because I just wasn't aware of any of it. I just didn't know what it even was that I was facing, and why years and years after, I felt uncomfortable and scared around other girls.  As a Kid, social cues were never my strongest asset. I remember my mom telling me that the only reason why I wasn't allowed to go to elementary a year earlier was my complete lack of social skills. I had the intellect, curiosity, and motivation to learn, and those factors would have granted me a position of advantage – if only my intellect had extended over to understanding social norms and how to interact with other kids. But it didn't, and there is a reason for it. A reason I would have to pay a price too huge for me to ever afford