Arrow ace
When does the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat set in? What makes your soul sing? Eros, ludus, and agàpe are just some of the many words coined by ancient Greek philosophers to expound on the convoluted concept that is human “love,” as well as its relative emotions.
To some extent, it can be said that they succeeded in this regard—in giving faces to the multitudinous forms of love that exist between the cracks and in the open. For indeed, love in its absolute abstraction, in its nuanced and many forms, is different for every individual.
And yet at times, it seems as if the only make of it that matters to the masses is the romantic and carnal kind. Or rather, that the said two forms eclipse the existence of the others. No man is an island, but on that island, must attraction always exist? To that, I say: No, not at all. I am asexual and aromantic, but that doesn’t affect my overflowing love for the many wonders of life.
I don’t remember most moments that transpired in the 18 years I’ve lived, but there are certain realizations that mark your soul’s past memory; this is one. It was on Aug. 9, 2020, a Sunday, when I finally, fully admitted to myself that I am asexual. We were tasked to write a paper on what makes us, well, us, and it pushed me to look back on my life, and what stood out to me was a lack, that though to me, is a nonissue, has affected much of my interactions.
It wasn’t a big revelation, really. It was just a part of who I have always been. Selen, the intelligent but homely girl who has never shown signs of attraction to anyone, who was as friendly as she was frigid. Growing up, I couldn’t relate to girls talking about crushes.
When my friends piled up in nooks and crannies around the school and discussed the attractiveness index of the people around us, I sat with them to fit in but found little to add to these discussions. Sparks for me were fireworks and electric shocks from the scraggly extension in my room that’s been there with me through the years, not infatuation, pleasure derived from the flesh, and mutual understanding. And so, that realization was a release, because it was tangible proof that I wasn’t born wrong, just different; not faulty, just wired differently. Yet in a way, it was also a chain—a shackle—that led to new uncertainties.
So … I can’t feel physical attraction, but I must be able to feel romantic attraction at least, right? After all, what would the rest of my life be like? I have plenty of friends, but what happens when they start building their own families? Would I be stuck as a second fiddle for the rest of my life? It’s frightful, the thought that not even my very best of friends will stay as we are right now, that we end up scattered to the winds, and then likely, they will manage to settle down. It will be just how it should be and it would be enough for them, but I will still be the same, just ever drifting. Mayhap, that is just the truth of growing up, but certain truths of mine—being aromantic, as well as asexual—certainly makes for an even foggier future, doesn’t it?
It is hard to be the odd one out because eventually, you get left out. It was not an uncommon experience for me to get told that I was lying or just being secretive when I say that I don’t like anyone in that way. I stopped being invited to select hangout sessions with acquaintances when they eventually got tired of me having the same nonanswers during spin-the-bottle games. And I got tired, too, tired of not having the answer they want, tired of not wanting anyone the way others did, tired of the empty acceptance when people took my nonanswers as secretiveness, or as a placeholder for a name that will never be uttered. Here’s a truth I only get to voice out through writing, I know there’s nothing wrong with how I’m wired, but neither have I ever been able to stop being affected when I’m left behind.
I love with all of my heart. I give my entirety, uncaring for pretenses and disapproving of tense, underlying silence that breaks friendships. I do declarations of affection all the time. My “I love you’s” aren’t something that gets stuck in my chest, never to see the light of the day; just not romantically, and … hopefully, that’s okay. There are moments I’m still nervous and afraid of the future, but my ardor is held by my ambitions. Does it diminish me as a person and a contributing member of society? No. For there is so much more in life to be had than relationships, marriage, and a baby. This is not to say that any of those are bad things, but they are not for me. I reject that unhappily ever after.
Ultimately, If I could love in the way that others do, I can’t say I wouldn’t take the choice. I could, and sometimes, I do want; there are days I yearn so much I ache. But in this lifetime, where this is how I was born, the truth is my truths make for a very uncertain future. And with all that is unsure, I’ll live by them anyway.
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Selen Salvador, 19, is an incoming second-year student of the Ateneo de Manila University. She is fond of various art forms, from writing to jewelry-making to cosplay, and is ever on the lookout for the newest craft she can try her hands at. Through art and other people, she fills her life with love, just not of two certain kinds, and she is so, so happy with the path she’s carving.
