There are actual asexual burlesque performers out there, which is comforting and awesome. I want to get that out of the way first.
The reason why I love burlesque is that it's a celebration of self: of your body, your sexuality, your everything. That's why there's no reason asexual burlesque shouldn't be a thing. In fact, burlesque is the perfect medium to celebrate asexuality. Except that burlesque is seen as a sexualized event. I can't even break away from the inherent sexuality that I see in burlesque. And there's no reason why an asexual can't be sexy. Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction, not the lack of asexuality or the lack of being sexually attractive.
But why on earth would an asexual want to be sexually attractive? What on earth do I want to get out of that scenario? Cause it's certainly not sex. But something in me wants to be sexually appealing, sexually attractive, sexually...normal?
It's hard for me to wrap my head around it all because I've always felt like a bad representative for asexuality. All of the stereotypes fit me.
I was sexually abused, sexually assaulted. I'm clinically depressed. I'm a plant.
I'm all the things asexuals are constantly trying to prove they're not.
Which does not make my asexuality invalid.
I wrote that whole post about the difference between fear of sex and disinterest in sex, so I know the difference. I know I'm valid.
But I don't feel valid. And my love of burlesque seems to just make everything even worse.
And instead of quietly sorting all of this out in my own head, on my own time, on my own blog, I instead decided to publicly commit to researching it in grad school. Telling all my professors about it. Finding out they're super excited and have been talking to other professors about it. Finding an overwhelming amount of support for the project even from people who don't really know what asexuality is.
What I don't like about support is that now I can't just drop it. Which is good. I shouldn't drop it.
But I don't exactly know what to do with it either.
I feel the need to be blatantly obvious with my professors, my peers, myself. My experiences and biases towards sex make me distrust all of my own inclinations and feelings rather than seeming to help me find answers and information. I still have bad days and bad nightmares and wake up never wanting to think about sex or my own body ever again.
One of my professors mentioned the need to add in time for self-care when planning research, especially when the topic is emotionally close. I don't think she was talking about me, but it definitely applies.
The reason why I never tackled sexual assault in my undergrad work was because I was afraid I would just spiral into self-destruction. I managed to get through it all independently after I graduated, but I still wonder what would've happened if I'd been forced to talk about the process and the subject while doing it.
I can write graphic truths but I certainly can't talk about them verbally.
As usual, I've kind of been writing through lots of rabbit holes and dancing around topics, but if you've read a single blog post on here then you know that's nothing new. My head is always so jumbled with this stuff that I find it hard to actually lay it all out and look at it. Writing helps in that way.
I haven't found any real answers through writing this, but my brain feels a little less cluttered. That's all I can ask for, I guess.
Anyway, grad school is going about as expected. I still miss classes, fumble through assignments, panic and avoid responsibility. Still get way too drunk on bad days. Still am unable to figure out how the disability services works. But hey, I haven't hurt myself in a really long time. That's something, isn't it?
I'll take what I can get.
--Dexter
PS. Although I did actually book my own flight for a conference today. So somehow I'm still stumbling through life convincing people I know what I'm doing.
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