As a kid, I cherished the outdoors and my friendships. I loved playing in the “woods” behind my house and setting up kickball games in the backyard when my friends would come over. I ran around every summer in my bare feet and would wear sandals in the winter as soon as the snow had melted and the weather was above freezing.
While I enjoyed playing outside with my sister, I could enjoy being alone. I would shoot baskets alone. In middle school and high school, I would go on long runs alone & love it. Not every time, of course, but I did need those times of solitude. They were essential for me and I craved them.
(As a side note, but as a teacher, I see now that kids have a real difficulty in being alone without technology. They don’t know how to be bored and enjoy their own company…and this worries me.)
I’ve also cherished many close friends in my life. Something I definitely do not take for granted. Many people over the years have been jealous of my friendships–becoming less jealous when they were dating or finally “found someone.”
I internalized from a young age from our culture that I needed to “find someone”–that to have many strong, close friendships is not the norm. So I dated a few guys-they were close friends first. That was the only thing that made sense to me. I went on blind dates here and there but nothing ever “clicked.”
Then I got very sick, and I wasn’t thinking about romantic relationships. I could barely get out of bed. I relied on the love and concern of friends: for coffee and conversation on good days, texts to remind me that I wasn’t forgotten, phone calls to check in. I had a friend who watched the same episode of Gilmore Girls from a different part of the country, a friend who let me sit in her office when she worked, just so I could have some semblance of a routine, an old boss who would let me wander into a Wednesday morning chapel service just so I could listen to a group of people singing together.
I dated one guy while I was sick. It didn’t make sense. I couldn’t give him that much attention and energy–and honestly I just wasn’t that interested.
And since the beginning of me and Chelsea’s friendship, we’ve been close. If you go back to the beginning of this blog, you will read about our time together, in what was expected to be the last few months of her life. I have loved her more deeply than any other friend at this point in my life.
This deep, sacrificial love, without a sexual of romantic component are key descriptors of what being asexual is like for me. The Divine shows me her/their goodness primarily through friendship: deep committed friendship.
The more that I’ve come home to my sexuality these last several months, the more honest I’m being with myself about how I connect with the Divine.
I connect in deep friendship, in solitude and silence, through breathing/energy work, in paying attention to my dreams, through exercise and movement, through liturgy and ritual, in greeting a stranger, through really incredible food. I connect through story and poetry.
For now, for me to show up as uniquely me in this world-I am apart of the institutional Christian church, the Episcopal church to be precise. And I’m also in regular conversation with those who are searching, exploring, wandering-and who consider themselves spiritual, but not religious.
For me to show up in this world-as the true me-I make sure that there’s margin to visit the sick. I make time for my friends with chronic illness who may go through a flare or end up in the ER.
And because I’m a sensitive person, work with students who struggle, and I show up for my friends–I must show up for myself. I must connect with myself meaningfully, and not just through traditional self-care, but through being aware of how I’m speaking to myself, aware of how much time I’m taking just for me, without needing to defend or justify my choices to anyone. How much time I let myself off the hook and just be bored.
I connect to Spirit so much more fully in my rest than in my work, though both are needed and necessary. Stillness and silence have become especially essential the more I understand who I truly am. Since I am in tune with my own energy, others’ energy, the energy of the earth-I must rest in order that this messaging or downloading can occur.
And above all, my illness, my greatest teacher, has taught me how to rest. That I must lay down my responsibility down and rest for the good of myself and the world.
For I must show up as my true self in the world.
The deeply spiritual, sensitive, asexual woman that I am.
May we all follow life and love and discover who we really are.