I don’t think she’s asexual, but then I realized that I am not sure I’d recognize anyone who was. Low sex drive (which in and of itself is a pejorative statement, IMO), high sex drive, sexual difficulties–these I comprehend and recognize (most people will volunteer this info, given enough trust within the relationship).
So, what does an asexual person “look” like? Again, I’m not sure, but her responses to you and her behavior over the years (and I boggle at the years) make me think psychological issues. I would think that an asexual person would be more open about it (to a trusted person) and less protective of self. Just my thoughts; I could be completely out of line.
I agree with WhyNot and others up thread–I think you’re protecting her for some unstated reason, i.e. enabling and infantilizing her. IMO, you are just as comfy as she is in this detente of a relationship. Something to think about.
possibly he’s equating her with his deceased wife, since she’s the first one he’s allowed into his life since he became widowed.
the Buddhist part goes with #2
The part about him being hurt when he put his arm around he and she withdrew seems to verify that he really does want more of a physical relationship with her.
Hi! They look like me. Seriously, an asexual person is just one that has no interest in sex.
Honestly, this woman sounds like she has a problem, not because of the asexuality, but because of the being uncomfortable talking about feelings and with normal physical contact. I think you’re a very strong person, DesertDog, for being there for her.
That is a possibility. This has been entirely from observation, since our discussions have been few and far in between, and not very productive, but it seems to me that she takes the safe choice. She knew Steve, the guy she was affianced to, via correspondence of some sort and thought he was a pretty cool guy. All of a sudden – bamf – he was in town and proposing. She accepted it, telling me later it was as much to please her parents, who were getting worried about their thirty-year-old unmarried daughter, as for any feelings she had for him. As soon as he was not only available, but there she grew ambivalent. Steve was frustrated, telling me at one point, “I don’t know if she loves me or not.” I had to tell him that I didn’t know if she could love anyone. This was about a year after we’d started living together, before I had declared anything, so I did not see him as a rival. Some months later, his job was up, he disappeared to San Diego, and as I said, wrote a breaking off letter. Nothing’s been as close since then. If she’s repressing any sexual urges, she’s doing a remarkable job.
I’ve seen her parents when they were living – her father is dead now – and they were a couple of cold fish. It has occurred to me that she never saw what love was like when she was growing up. Her older brother and younger sister both married, though.
That’s certainly a possibility. God knows, the women who have been able to resist my Woody Allen-esque charms are a legion. When I was wooing her, I offered seeing a counselor together. “I think about sex too much,” I joked, “You think about sex too little. Between us we ought to get it about right.” She refused.
Only at the airport when one or the other of us is going somewhere. When we get with my brother and SIL she hugs them, your basic momentary, A-frame, minimal contact hug.
Among my other lives I am a massage therapist – or was until I got crippled up. A year or so after we met she was complaining of a sore back. With some reluctance, she agreed. She remained dressed, which is not that unusual; I worked round her clothing and when I was done, quizzed her. “Did that feel good?” Yes. “Did you like the way you felt?” Yes. “Did you feel uncomfortable or threatened by my touch?” No. “Well, I don’t want to put pressure on you. I am always available; the next time you want another massage, just ask.” Fifteen years later she hasn’t asked yet.
On the surface at least, she’s happy; I think I provide the amount of companionship she wants. We’ve been focusing on the negative side of the relationship here. She is a pleasant person to be around and we do have a lot in common. She’s taught me a lot about things – especially about critters and I think I’ve taught her about some things as well. I think she’s happier now than when we met. In that first letter I wrote her confessing my feelings, I said that the first time I saw her, I thought, “What an attractive girl; I wonder why her eyes are so sad.” Her eyes aren’t so sad, now.
It’s not whether she might object to my having sex with someone else – one night stand or a permanent relationship – that is the problem. If she did I would point out bluntly that she is not my wife, she is not my lover, she is not my girlfriend; she has no input on the matter. It’s one of the advantages about not loving her any more. The problem is the size of the place we’re living in. It was listed at 1,000 square feet, but I think the Realtor was exaggerating a little. In it are DR, me, three salukis, one anatolian, a couple snakes and one big goldfish. It’s pretty cozy and the way it’s laid out, doesn’t offer much in the way of privacy. Were I to bring someone here, I would need to be sure she understood this.
Of course she gets pissed off now and then; what woman doesn’t of her husband, even a quasi-husband such as I. To quote Ursula LeGuin in Gwilan’s Harp “The two of them were gentle with each other. Not that they lived together thirty years without some quarrelling. Two rocks sitting side by side would get sick of each other in thirty years, and who knows what they say now and then when nobody’s listening.” To truly hate something or someone, you have to care about them. No passion, no hate. Our quarrels last a few minutes and then are forgotten.
And she has interests aplenty. It wasn’t not like we spent our non-working hours with me wishing I was jumping her bones and her fending me off. She sketches well, dabbles in acrylics, and reads incessantly. Her big passion is animals, dogs and horses for the main part but 'most everything out there. She is owner of the above mentioned critters, except that she talked me into being co-owner of one of the salukis. Moving from Carson City to here was my doing (with some pangs of guilt) and we had to give up a couple horses when we did so. She’s been casting about for some time about how get one here, without success so far.
Interesting link, violet. As a strictly amateur assessment, she does have four of the DSM-IV patterns. She is somewhat estranged from her own family and has told me how much she enjoys being with mine. She was sadder at my father’s passing than her own. I pointed out that they would probably feel closer to a wife, than a live-in partner; it didn’t work.
Well, the children part is a non-issue; I had myself clipped some 25 years back shortly after my second nephew was born. When I married DesertWife at age 36, her thirteen-year-old daughter was part of the package. She was a good kid (still is) but there were times I wondered if I’d really known what I was getting into. At age 58 a having a kid would be insane. Didn’t keep me from wishing for a whole loaf rather than half.
I can’t argue with any of that. When I married DW I thought I would be happy for the rest of my life, and I was for the six years I had her. When I was still in mourning about her death, I asked a good friend who had known us before and after we were married, whether I was putting her on a pedestal. He replied no. “I’ve seen married couples,” he said (as a confirmed bachelor), “I’ve seen happily married couples, but what you had with her was something beyond that. I was jealous when I saw you together.” After she died, the main thought that kept cycling through my head was Nothing Lasts. Well, this – such as it is – has lasted. Perhaps my crushing that need for her was the first step on moving on from it.
Thank you, STG, and yes, I would say the asexuality is a manifestation of her discomfort of intimacy. I think we’ll never know for sure.
I’d like to think that it’s noble and romantic to give up experiencing any other love, and sex, for 16 years (or the rest of your life) for one woman, even though you could never have her, but I really think that it’s too much for her to have (albeit silently) asked of you.
Are you happy that you’ve spent all this time as a platonic husband? Will you reach the end of your life content with the choices that you’ve made? If so, then I can’t condemn you, but gah… has it really been 16 years since you had sex, and you’re okay with that? That’s a choice that you’ve made for her? My mind is boggling over this. And where can I find a platonic husband- sounds pretty handy at times.
I agree with Alice. If you don’t feel you’re lacking anything in your life, then maybe this platonic thing is good for the two of you. However, I sense that you will (maybe you already DO) regret the lack of intimacy (both emotional and physical) with your roomie. You can care about her, but you have the right to your own happiness. If she cannot tolerate seeing you in a relationship, she has options and should exercise them. The way I see it, you are doing her a huge favor by continuing to allow her to live with you for free.
Do you mean to supplant a more conventional husband, or in place of one? Find one whose libido doesn’t burn too bright, I suppose.
About six months after we were married, out of the blue one of DW’s closest friends asked permission for a terribly nosy question. When I said to ask away, I could always refuse to answer, she blurted out “How often do you ‘do it?’”
I had to think about that one and said anywhere from twice a day to twice a month, but those extremes were rare, then finally settled on three or four times a week, mostly. “Oh,” she said and went on to something else. When I later asked DW what that was all about, she replied, “Oh, she’s lucky if she gets it twice a year. [Husband] loves her but just isn’t that interested.” It never occurred to me that I might wind up in a similar circumstance.
That would be exactly what I would tell her, should it come to that. One of the advantages of not being in love with her any more.
She’s not living for free, exactly. The house, like I said, belongs to the “Dog” family trust. I’m paying what amounts to rent into the trust, administered by my brother who’s a lot more money savvy than I am. When I’m in my dotage, I’ll be drawing a stipend from the fund, so the ‘rent’ is more of an investment in the future. Meantime, she’s paying the power bill, which can be substantial in the summer. That way she can crank the thermostat where she’s comfortable without my wincing. This, naturally, does not allow her any access to the trust. I pay the water (insignificant), phones (ditto) and internet access (more but still meh). If we ever get cable, she’ll pay that, since she watches TV more than I do.
She’s now an assistant manager at a convenience store/gas station chain (Valero if you’ve heard of it). Like assistant manager at a bank, it’s all title without as much money as you’d think. Managers earn a good amount and also get some profit sharing (along with a hefty increase in hours worked) and they’ve been grooming her for such. Her income took a bit hit when we came here, and it’s taken her a while to work up to where she is now, though.
Of course, but I hope I would be honest enough to bring that up in the Full Disclosure part of a blossoming relationship. Unlike the stereotypic male, Ive never been interested in sex for its own sake. I’ve cared very deeply for the few partners I’ve had.
I would be embarrassed to say that I am a Buddhist – that’s I said ‘Buddhist tendencies’ in my OP. The more I study up on it, though, the more the Theravada sect (school, whatever) mirrors my own internalizations.
I’m having to make my own way as there are no Theravada centers locally.
Will this phase last the rest of my life? time will tell.
Silver Tyger Girl, since you are asexual without the bent part, can I ask a question: Do you have erotic dreams? I vaguely remember the wet dreams I had long ago before I discovered masturbation. I have them (erotic, not wet) occasionally now, although not as often as you might expect from these posts. Oddly enough, only rarely do they involve someone I know (past lovers, DW, or DR) and are mostly an anonymous ‘female.’ Happily asexual when you’re awake, does your Id have its own ideas when you’re asleep?
Formerly asexual anyway. I had a few. I hardly have any now. I masturbate a lot more than I did then and now it actually involves thinking about guys (rather than just it feels good and helps me fall asleep faster).
Have you checked out the AVEN forums? You might be able to get better advice from a whole host of asexuals, especially since you don’t seem to be judgmental sort.
There is no such thing as formerly asexual. Asexual means that you are not attracted to anyone- not the opposite sex and not your own sex. And you never will be. It’s like being heterosexual or homosexual- you are born like that, and you will always be like that. A truly asexual person does not desire sex. Period.
Kinsey disagreed with you, for what it’s worth. His scale of hetero to homo (which included a rating of “x” for asexual) was only valid for a “period” of one’s life. You could score a 3 during college and a 6 in your 30s. I know that’s out of fashion now, but seems more reflective of people’s truly fluid sexual natures. That’s not to say that you can *willingly *change your orientation during any one period, but I’ve observed that something (hormones? chemicals in the environment? personal maturation?) has certainly shifted my sexual orientation at various periods in my life, and I see no reason why I should be unique in that.
So I DON’T want to have sex now? Really? And when I didn’t want to have sex I didn’t find men attractive? What about all those other people on AVEN who find a certain sex attractive? They aren’t asexual either?
From the AVEN website: An asexual is someone who does not experience sexual attraction.
I don’t know if you want to have sex or not- I’m just saying, if you’re calling yourself ‘asexual’, it automatically implies that you don’t. You can label yourself, or not- doesn’t matter to me and no harm to your feelings was meant. But by definition, an asexual person does not want to have sex.