So what is autism, exactly?

Essy Knopf autism spectrum disorder
Reading time: 8 minutes

What is autism spectrum disorder? To fully understand this phenomenon, we have to employ the medical model.

Big disclaimer: the medical model is far from perfect.

According to this model, there is something inherently wrong with autistics. Historically, this rationale has also been used to marginalize and oppress us.

For most people, the social model is preferable, as it argues that the issue lies not with neurodiversity, but with society’s failure to accommodate it

The social model aims to destigmatize autism, whereas the goal of the medical model is to diagnose and treat.

Pathologizing aside, getting an ASD diagnosis can open the door to disability-related legal protections, supports, and services. This is one example of how the medical model can be of use to those with autism, and their loved ones.

So, what is autism spectrum disorder?

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders 5 (DSM-5), autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is a neurological developmental disability.

Autism is characterized by ongoing deficits in social communication and social interactions in a range of contexts. Other criteria for autism include “restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities”. 1 2

Autism symptoms manifest in the early development period and typically cause clinically significant impairment in key areas of functioning. 

To receive a diagnosis of ASD, these symptoms must not be better explained by the presence of intellectual disability or global developmental delay.

A diagnosis of ASD is typically accompanied by a severity measurement of “Level 1”, “2”, or “3”. Level 1 means the individual requires some support, Level 2 substantial support, and Level 3 very substantial support.

(Remember how I mentioned the medical model is pathologizing? An example of this is the DSM-5 terminology I just used, such as “disability”, “deficits”, “symptoms”, “impairments”, and “severity”.)

Autism often appears alongside other conditions, such as epilepsy, attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, sleep problems, gastrointestinal symptoms, anxiety, and depression.

Who gets diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder?

Males are diagnosed with autism at three times the rate of females, but this doesn’t necessarily mean autism isn’t as common among females.3

One study found that autistic females as a population are better than males at hiding their autistic traits. This results in fewer diagnoses, later diagnoses in life, and misdiagnoses. 

It’s also been argued that autistic females may present autism in a way different from their male counterparts.4 And due to many measurements being male-centric, females may be overlooked by current diagnostic measurements.5

Additionally, autistics from racial minority groups are typically less likely to receive a diagnosis of ASD.6 Instead, they are more likely to receive other diagnoses such as ADHD and conduct and adjustment disorders.7

Many conclude that reflects medical disadvantages experienced by minority groups as a result of structural inequality.8 But it’s important to note that autism traits can also go overlooked or can be misinterpreted, depending on the sociocultural context. 9

Why are some people autistic and others not? 

There are no clear answers here, however, some studies point to a range of environmental risk factors and protective factors. 

These include advanced parental age, low birth weight,10 11 fetal exposure to the epilepsy medication valproate,12 intake of certain vitamins,13 maternal autoimmune disorders, environmental toxins, and breastfeeding.14

Links have been made between unique gut microbiota compositions and the development of autism. Other studies have indicated strong genetic influences, concluding that autism is highly inheritable.15 16 17

How does one get an autism spectrum disorder diagnosis?

To get an autism spectrum disorder diagnosis, you need to be screened by a trained professional. 

For children, there’s a range of tools. For example, the Modified Checklist for Autism in Toddlers Revised, the Ages and Stages Questionnaire, and the Screening Tool for Autism in Toddlers and Young Children.18 19 20

For older adolescents and adults, the gold standard for autism diagnoses is the Autism Diagnostic Observation Schedule (ADOS-2) module 4.21 Professionals typically use this tool alongside direct observations and taking patient history.

The Autism Diagnostic Interview-Revised (ADI-R) is another gold standard autism diagnostic tool that is suitable for both children and adults.22

Again, I want to point out here that these diagnostic tools may be gender-biased and thus more likely to detect male autistics than female autistics.

When seeking out a diagnosis, it is worth checking to see that the person doing the assessment is using the most current, research-backed screening measures.

If seeing a professional is not an option, adults can also use self-reporting tools such as the Social Responsiveness Scale, Second Edition: Adult form (SRS-2).23

Additional tools are available for assessing how autism is impacting one’s activities of daily living and quality of life.

How is autism spectrum disorder “treated”?

There is no biomedical treatment for autism spectrum disorder, however, psychotropic medications are available and often prescribed for those who are experiencing symptoms such as anxiety or depression.24 25 26

For autism specifically, there is a range of therapies, the most commonly used being Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA).27

ABA is designed to help autistic children with the development of social, communication, and expressive language skills.

The dominant strain of ABA has been heavily criticized by autism advocates for violating individual autonomy and even doing direct harm to clients.28

Critics have also pointed out that there are conflicts of interest among researchers who publish scientific literature in support of ABA as an autism intervention.29

Clearly, there is room for improvement when it comes to current ABA intervention. However, ABA is one of the few treatments that remain widely accessible. 

In many US states, health insurance providers are required to cover ABA-related expenses under the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.

One alternative to mainstream ABA is Naturalistic Developmental Behavioral Interventions (NDBI). NDBI is more child-directed and provides intrinsic rewards for learning and participating.30

Other available interventions support the development of core skills among autistic children, such as social communication.31

Additionally, programs exist for young adults, such as the Program for the Education and Enrichment of Relational Skills (PEERS®).32

For autistic young people and adults, psychotherapies such as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy are recommended for those who experience comorbidities such as anxiety and depression.33 34

These are available in both individual and group formats.35

Wrap up

So there you have it, my brief introduction to autism spectrum disorder.

Again, I want to stress that much of the content I shared is presented using the medical model. 

But remember: viewing autism exclusively through this lens is not only limiting—it also fails to give consideration to some of the strengths of being neurodiverse.

Check this blog post to learn a little more about some of the benefits of being autistic.

Why modulating, not masking is key to neurodivergent social success

Essy Knopf autistic social success
Reading time: 4 minutes

Achieving social success as a neurodiverse (ND) person isn’t necessarily about mastering certain skills. At its essence, it’s about bridging the neurodiverse-neurotypical (NT) communication divide.

This divide stems from the fact that NTs often demand that NDs observe and conform to social norms. Some even demonstrate ableist privilege by painting ND approaches to communication as somehow lacking or inferior.

Rather than treating difference as a source of enrichment, they reject and punish NDs. This attitude stems from a deficit-based approach, which involves focusing on the apparent shortcomings of NDs rather than our strengths.

A strengths-based approach acknowledges that many NDs are endowed with unique qualities that can actually help us shine in many social contexts. 

Autistic social strengths

Here’s one example of unique ND strengths. Autistics are widely recognized to be hyper-systemizers, interested in learning and mastering the complexities of our world. Marrying this thinking with one of our “special interests” can actually make us super interesting conversation partners.

For example, our extensive knowledge of these topics and our enhanced powers of analysis allow us to discuss topics in great detail. Many of us are exceedingly eloquent, sporting rich vocabularies and speaking with surprising exactitude.

We autistics are renowned for being truth-tellers and straight shooters who are compulsively honest about our thoughts and feelings. We bring an authenticity to our interactions that many NTs find refreshing. (Assuming we don’t feel compelled by society to mask.)

Autistics can challenge social conventions in other positive ways. For example, we prefer not to speak in subtext. We don’t infuse our communication with secret meanings, so as to avoid confusion or misunderstanding.

We also inherently trust others, taking them at face value and believing their stated intentions rather than ascribing hidden motives.

Social challenges

But there are some downsides to operating outside of the bounds of social convention. 

Many NDs know what it’s like to unwittingly say something that is insensitive, inappropriate—or outright offensive—only to receive a swift rebuke from an NT.

In such instances, many NTs will condemn our behavior and even shun our company. These reactions can leave NDs feeling misunderstood, attacked, excluded, and abandoned. 

Realizing that we may not always be treated with grace, we remain perpetually on guard, ears pricked in anticipation of criticism. 

In some cases, we may even go on the defensive, thus deepening the relational rupture. 

In others, we shut down and withdraw. When a world of pain can be just one interaction away, it is easier to absent oneself, internalize others’ criticisms, and self-stigmatize.

An overprotective reaction makes sense—at least initially. But what starts as adaptive quickly becomes maladaptive, at least when it comes to achieving autistic social success.

Socially shapeshifting, or “masking” in order to present a version of ourselves that is more acceptable to NTs means stymying spontaneity, swallowing our emotions, and stuffing our authentic selves out of view.

Worse still, when we withdraw, we deprive ourselves of opportunities to build and refine our social skills. And it prevents others from getting to know our true selves. 

Ruptures happen

What’s important to recognize here is that misunderstanding and conflict play out in all relationships, whether NTs or NDs are involved.

Years ago, a friend offered to make some tea for me. As he didn’t have a kettle or a stovetop, he proposed microwaving my water instead.

While my friend saw this as a convenient solution, something about the idea of blasting water with microwave particles rubbed me the wrong way. So I expressed my discomfort, suggesting we skip making the tea altogether.

Rather than listening and respecting my request, my friend decided he would try to persuade me to agree. Drawing upon his background in physics, he explained in great detail the mechanics behind the microwave. 

When I again declined his offer, however, my friend grew angry, telling me I was just “choosing to be stupid”. But what he failed to understand was that my initial refusal was rooted in fear and anxiety.

The breakdown in our communication began when my friend decided the remedy for this fear and anxiety was logic. When logic didn’t work, he concluded that I was stubborn and illogical.

As an autistic, I have often resorted to logic instead of empathy. This is of course not to say we are wholly incapable of it, an incorrect charge that has been leveled against autistics in the past.

But what strikes me most about this story now is that while I was hurt by my friend’s allegation, I understood where he was coming from. As our minds functioned in similar ways, I inferred (correctly, I believe) the source of his frustration, but also his ultimately good intentions.

Had I been NT however, the case might have been quite different. Rather than absorbing my friend’s words in thoughtful silence, I might have lashed out at him or stormed out of his apartment.

The double empathy problem

Previously, it was believed that autistic individuals suffered from “mindblindness”, the inability to understand others’ thoughts, emotions, and intentions.

Researchers believed “mindblindness” impaired autistics’ social cognition, resulting in behaviors that are potentially inappropriate, insensitive, or offensive to NTs, and inhibiting autistic social success.

They now acknowledge however that the reality is much more complex; that mindblindness may in fact be a mutual phenomenon, what is referred to as the double empathy problem.

This concept acknowledges that both autistics and neurotypicals experience mindblindness when it comes to reading one another correctly. It goes a long way to explaining the source of the struggle many autistics—and ADHDers—face in social contexts.

And it demonstrates that the difficulty people experience communicating across the NT/ND divide is mutual. Neither NDs nor NTs bear full responsibility for misunderstandings.

It follows, therefore, that the onus is on both parties to do what they can to bridge this divide.

Modulating, not masking to create ND social success

In a series of subsequent posts, I will discuss a range of ND behaviors I myself have exhibited. 

I acknowledge these behaviors have on occasion been a source of misunderstanding and conflict during social interactions with NTs. But I want to stress that my focus here is not problematizing ND behaviors, but rather problem-solving the resulting communication breakdowns. 

For this reason, I will refer to these behaviors as “challenges”, while presenting some “alternatives” that fellow autistics may consider engaging in, as they see fit. 

These alternatives represent hard-won lessons from many years of personal struggle. They are not concerned with “masking” one’s autistic identity or interests; their focus instead is “modulating” one’s conduct. 

Modulation—that is, selective and strategic presentation of the self—is a practice all individuals engage in during everyday interactions. Modulating helps to win the acceptance of others while bolstering an atmosphere of mutual understanding and respect and preserving social order.

In my experience, NTs have an easier time modulating than we do as NDs, given our unique neurology.  But I’m a firm believer that with enough observation and practice, we can match—and even exceed—our NT peers in this regard.

Don’t avoid social mistakes as a neurodivergent. Lean into them.

Essy Knopf autistic hypervigilance
Reading time: 6 minutes

Neurodivergent (ND) hypervigilance—that is, always being on the lookout for danger—involves the careful observation of neurotypicals (NTs) in an attempt to appease or minimize their negative reactions.

It’s a common response to having to navigate social interactions with NTs; interactions governed by complex and unspoken rules.

Should we fail to follow these rules—inevitable, given they’re never directly explained to NDs—we’re often punished.

NTs may label our remarks and behavior as odd, tangential, patronizing, confusing, incomprehensible, inappropriate, or excessive.

They’ll tell us we came off harsh or insensitive or that we’re being too critical. They may even accuse us of playing dumb or showing off.

Misunderstandings such as these however are not solely the responsibility of the ND. NTs also play a part, as has been argued by researchers who support the double empathy problem theory.

And yet the blame more often than not gets laid at the ND’s door. Blame however does not teach skills. Rather, it imbues NDs with an unhealthy paranoia.

So much so that we end up spending our days watching every little thing we say and do, for fear we might unwittingly offend someone.

Living in shame-prone cultures

This paranoia is a direct product of the fact we live in what author Brené Brown calls a “shame-prone” culture.

In “shame-resilient” cultures, Brown argues, self-worth is unconditional, thereby enabling us “to be vulnerable, share openly, and persevere”.36

In shame-prone cultures, however, leaders and other authority figures “consciously or unconsciously encourage people to connect their self-worth to what they produce”.

This link between self-worth and productivity stems largely from capitalism, and drives people to behave in ways that are “small, resentful, and afraid”.

A classic example of this is the NT preemptively defending themselves or their position, retaliating against a perceived assault with an accusation or criticism, or cutting off communication with the ND.

The legacy of living in shame-prone culture is that we all carry around with us some measure of internalized shame that is automatically triggered when we feel our worthiness has been called into question.

The NT’s hostile response to the ND serves not only to fend off a perceived attack but to deny the implication that they were somehow deserving of this attack in the first place.

In such instances, the NT has failed to give the ND grace; to entertain the possibility of a misunderstanding, ask clarifying questions, and work to repair the social rupture.

The shame of ableism

When NTs respond this way, they may in turn trigger the ND’s own hoard of internalized shame.

The source of this shame isn’t just that we also live in shame-prone societies, but that these societies are ableist and privilege NTs while oppressing the neurodiverse.

What follows often is a descent down a spiral of self-guilt-tripping. We tell ourselves that we’re “stupid”, “inferior”, “unlikeable”, “terrible company”, and “always messing things up” because that is the message we are routinely sent by NTs.

But unless we are provided constructive opportunities to build and hone our social skills, free of criticism and judgment, we’re likely to continue making mistakes and spiraling ever deeper into shame.

When fight-or-flight goes awry

When our shame is triggered, the ND may similarly marshall their own defenses, launch a counterattack or flee.

NTs and NDs who react in such a fashion are experiencing a “fight-or-flight” response. As The Happiness Trap author Russ Harris explains: 

The fight-or-flight response is a primitive survival reflex that originates in the midbrain. It has evolved on the basis that if something is threatening you, your best chance of survival is either to run away (flight) or to stand your ground and defend yourself (fight)… So whenever we perceive a threat, the fight-or-flight response immediately activates. In prehistoric times, this response was lifesaving.37

Fight-or-flight may be an ingrained evolutionary response, but it is also exacerbated by shame-prone cultures, which provide narratives justifying our reactions. 

Given the comparatively safe conditions in which many modern humans now live, the fight-or-flight response today is more maladaptive than adaptive.

Why? Because when it is engaged, it can lead to us developing unpleasant feelings. It results in the negative reactions detailed above, usually with destructive results.

Neurodivergent social challenges

Misunderstandings between NDs and NTs largely occur because of inherent differences in cognitive and social styles.

Autistics as a population for example have been found to exhibit egocentric (self) bias, as opposed to altercentric (other) bias when it comes to social interactions.38

That is, we tend to ascribe our feelings, thoughts, or needs to others, rather than intuiting, reading, or asking. 

This tendency may result in part from developmental prosopagnosia, which is more common among autistic individuals.39

Developmental prosopagnosia refers to impaired face identity and facial expressions recognition, a skill that is essential for correctly gauging others’ emotions and intentions.40

These differences leave autistics less capable of realizing we have made a social blunder, which can in turn make the task of overcoming them appear almost impossible.

The downside of ND hypervigilance

Accidents and misunderstandings are par for the course when interacting with NTs, and the most we can ever do as NDs is to proceed with caution. 

Taken to its extreme, caution can become ND hypervigilance, as we work to compensate for perceived threats with strategies such as masking.41 Hypervigilance and compensatory strategies are common resorts for the overly-conscientious NDs. 

For years, I myself employed hypervigilance, scanning strangers during social interactions for friend/foe signals, subjecting every conversation to extensive analysis. 

Hours were spent trying to decipher the meaning behind a particular facial expression or a specific choice of word as if doing so might protect me against future mistakes. 

And yet for all this effort, I continued to put my foot wrong, with NTs often distancing themselves from me despite my attempts to explain myself or apologize.

ND hypervigilance is what happens when fear monopolizes our psyche. It leaves us frozen; incapable of feeling and expressing our emotions; unable to engage in spontaneity, jokes, and laughter. 

Such expressions can’t happen without vulnerability, and to be vulnerable in a hostile social environment is to open oneself to attack.

To remain in a hypervigilant state, however, constitutes a complete betrayal of both ourselves and our needs. It puts the onus on us to do whatever possible to ensure our social interactions are successful—an expectation no one can reasonably meet. 

And it deprives others of the opportunity to get to know our authentic ND selves.

Empathy as an alternative to ND hypervigilance

As discussed in a previous post, modulation—selective and strategic presentation of the self—is a practice all individuals engage in during everyday interactions. It is key to generating social harmony and cohesion.

Modulation as a practice is highly advantageous to NDs. It is not a compensatory behavior, not an attempt at appeasement, but rather concerned with meeting the other person where they’re at. 

Social interactions, whether they involve Nds or NTs, are a dance that must be navigated carefully, patiently, and kindly. Both partners must regularly check in with each other to ensure the other party is doing okay. 

Ruptures in these relationships happen when:

  • We don’t ask our partner’s permission before initiating the dance
  • We insist on not following the tempo of the music
  • We fail to match our partner’s pace or to coordinate our steps with theirs
  • We step on our partner’s toes—and don’t apologize

The good news is that these ruptures can be repaired through acts of consideration, kindness, and empathy. 

Openness and vulnerability: the way forward

NDs need not live in a perpetual crouch, terrified of negative consequences when we commit a social mistake. 

Rather, we can approach these ruptures with an attitude of openness. When others offer complaints or requests, we have the option to listen without immediately reacting. 

If someone shares that they have been genuinely hurt or harmed by something we’ve said or done, we can create a space for their feelings, without taking them on, while braving any discomfort that might result.

We can lean into our mistakes by acknowledging, apologizing, and pledging to do better—while also asking the other person’s advice, when appropriate, on how we might do so.

As someone who is both autistic and ADHD, I have found that interpersonal conflict rarely continues if I admit my errors soon after they are brought to my attention.

For those of us with a history of being criticized during past social interactions with NTs, such an admission might not come easy. But if we are to triumph over our internalized shame, we must be willing to reach for self-compassion

Practicing self-compassion means choosing to accept our fallibility and to love ourselves regardless. It means embracing our vulnerability and having “the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome”.42

Steps to overcome ND hypervigilance

Vulnerability is a key ingredient for empathy, an approach that forms the basis of all solutions I will propose to common ND social challenges.

These solutions typically involve one or more of the following actions:

  1. Assessing needs
  2. Asking permission
  3. Seeking clarification
  4. Listening reflectively
  5. Admitting mistakes
  6. Sharing intentions
  7. Adjusting behaviors 

I share my approach here with the caveat that these actions are not exclusively for ND folks. 

NTs are equally capable of making mistakes and equally responsible for taking action when it is brought to their attention. The fact that many choose not to, instead of pinning blame exclusively on the ND for a misunderstanding, is a reflection of neurotypical privilege. 

It’s perfectly fair to expect NTs to practice the actions I’ve listed above. Arguably, ND hypervigilance wouldn’t be necessary at all, if NTs indeed did so.

But, as in any social interaction, we should strive to focus on only that which is within our control. Namely: whether or not we choose to take the high road, and the rigor with which we apply ourselves to this effort.

Is there a place for the graysexual identity within the LGBTQ+ community?

Gray-a demisexual graysexual asexual Essy Knopf
Reading time: 4 minutes

Apparently being LGBTQ+ also means being hypersexual. At least, that’s what many of us have been led to believe.

But human sexuality expresses itself very differently from person to person.

Today, I want to talk about two forms of this—gray asexuality/graysexuality and demisexuality—and the struggle many of us experience fitting in.

LGBTQ+ hypersexuality

At 18, when I was just starting to explore my LGBTQ+ identity, I found myself drawn to nightclubs. This seemed like the best venue in which to meet other gay men and hopefully make friends. 

Each club usually had a cover charge, but as a poor student, I often found myself balking. One time a bouncer laughed at my reaction.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll get laid.”

I remember feeling absolutely mortified. How could he have so mistaken my intentions?
Yet it was, as it turned out, a fairly normal assumption to make.

Inside these clubs, I frequently saw people sizing each other up across the dancefloor.

And when I tried to make small talk with strangers, I’d catch them looking over my shoulder at the latest person to walk through the door. Many people I met appeared to be solely looking for casual sex. 

Frankly, I was so bored by this idea, that I’d often end up sitting in a corner and browsing the free LGBTQ+ publications. 

The articles and advertisements I saw within seemed, again, to speak to this hypersexual facet of the LGBTQ+ identity—a facet that is often quite narrow in its definitions.

Being a graysexual in the LGBTQ+ ‘monoculture’

The LGBTQ+ community is, at least in theory, an inclusive one. In practice, however, it can lean towards being a monoculture.

The term “monoculture” refers to cultivating one kind of crop at a time. This is compared to polyculture, where one cultivates multiple crops at the same time.

The LGBTQ+ monoculture promotes the idea that all gay men should be hypersexual and openly discuss their sexual preferences with one another.

Sexuality for me on the other hand has always been personal and private. I’ve rarely felt any need to disclose my preferences with anyone, friends included, nor to actively pursue sex.

When I met other gay men online or in person, I’d explain that I wanted to be their friend and get to know them. For me, the familiarity and safety provided by a friendship were necessary before progressing the relationship.

Intellectual connection and interpersonal compatibility were also important, and I couldn’t be sure of either on short acquaintance.

But many people received my request to get to know them as a rejection. I was, in their view, friend-zoning them.

It seemed I had failed to grasp a common but unspoken belief: that when two gay men come into contact, sex must result.

What are graysexuality and demisexuality?

Given casual sex in the LGBTQ+ world is often treated as a kind of handshake, this expectation makes sense.

This is not to say that LGBTQ+ culture is monolithic. It arose after all as a response to the constraints of heterosexuality.

But this tendency to lean towards a single expression of sexuality can be marginalizing and oppressive to those who don’t and can’t follow it.

It’s only in the past few years, after coming to identify with the gray asexual and demisexual labels, that I’ve understood why hypersexuality never sat right with me.

What does it mean to be gray asexual, also known as graysexual, gray-a, and gray-ace? 

Graysexuals according to the Demisexual Resource Center

  • feel sexual attraction infrequently, of low intensity, to few people, or in specific circumstances
  • feel sexual attraction, but have no desire to act on it; have confusing or ambiguous feelings of sexual attraction
  • feel that sexual attraction is not a meaningful concept to them personally

Graysexuality clearly has many possible definitions and is experienced differently by each individual.

Demisexuality on the other hand involves “feeling sexual attraction only after forming an emotional bond”. Some consider demisexuality to be a subset of gray asexual.

In my case, I relate to both labels. I experience sexual attraction, but in limited circumstances, and at a low intensity.

These feelings are often ambiguous, aren’t that important to me, and I usually have little desire to act on them.

And if I do, full enjoyment is rarely possible unless I have first formed an emotional bond.

Quite a lot of fine print. And not exactly something one drops in a casual conversation.

When being graysexual conflicts with allosexuality

Allosexuality—that is, feeling sexual attraction—is often treated as the norm, so graysexuals and demisexuals like myself may thus find themselves pushed into the margins.

For example, we may often feel like our lack of sexual interest and/or drive is a problem and that something is wrong with us.

If we don’t indulge in hypersexuality, we may feel like we’re somehow failing the LGBTQ+ acid test.

Another fact to consider is that in LGBTQ+ culture, being sexually desirable is, unfortunately, often tied to self-worth. Having a lack of sexual interest in others may thus be interpreted as rejection.

Not wanting to engage in sexual activities may be perfectly comfortable for you. But failing to meet allosexuals’ expectations can create discomfort, if not frustration, for some.

Many a time, I’ve found myself in situations where another person clearly wanted a sexual outcome. When that outcome didn’t happen, some individuals would only pressure me further.

Sometimes I froze, and sometimes I gave in. When I did manage to find my voice and refuse, hurt and anger could result. 

Wrap up

It’s hard not to feel somehow wrong or at fault in these situations. You get to thinking that maybe it’s on you to be more upfront about your preferences.

But even when we are upfront, there’s always the possibility it might be explained away.

I’ve had more than a few people tell me that I “just hadn’t had the right sexual experience or partner” yet. Ironic, given that’s an argument that’s been used against LGBTQ+ people for having an interest in members of the same sex!

It isn’t fair that allosexuality is treated as a default and alternate sexual expressions as abnormal. We gray-aces and demisexuals feel blamed or shamed for failing to meet some kind of sexual mandate.

This is, after all, a fundamental part of who we are. And our diverse identities are just one variation of many that exist within the LGBTQ+ community

So enough about me, I want to know: do you identify as graysexual or demisexual? 

If so, what’s it been like for you? Let me know in the comments.