Recently, I was asked by a woman named Violet Fenn if I could answer a few questions about sex and sexuality for an article she was writing about the subject and how autistic people relate to it. I think this is brilliant, and you can see the article here:
The reason I say this is brilliant is because so many people out there assume that anyone who’s got any sort of disability is asexual. While there are certainly asexuals out there, it’s ridiculous to think we all are. Just because I struggle socially doesn’t mean I don’t have biological urges the same as neurotypicals. And since I’m a pretty open-minded person when it comes to this stuff, I thought I’d share with you the entire article I wrote on the subject, of which there was only room for a few paragraphs in Violet Fenn’s wonderful piece. Mom and Dad, maybe stop reading here? Warning – I don’t get too explicit, but I am very blunt, and the topic is sex. Read ahead at your own peril.
So, here is a discussion on sex and sexuality from the perspective of an autistic.
I started out being really shy and awkward about people and particularly about touching. If a stranger touches me, I still flinch. But sex itself has never been a real difficulty for me. It’s the getting to that point of having sex that is. I’m pretty sexual in nature, so I love that side of me, but I don’t know how to flirt with someone new I’ve met. I have literally sent this text message to someone before: “I didn’t know you were bi… I am too, and I think you’re really pretty. Want to do something maybe?” Apparently this took her totally by surprise and is not considered legitimate flirting, though I thought it was. Ended up working out, funny enough, and we dated for a while. That was only real relationship I’ve had with someone I didn’t meet online, but in person. My other long term in-person relationship I met online, something that is much easier for me. We bonded over books, went on a few dates, and now we’re getting married on January 13, 2018, which is fantastic and I couldn’t be happier – post upcoming on wedding stress and honeymooning in a foreign country eventually!
With sex itself, it’s like it’s in its own box. Normally, I absolutely hate hugs from most people, with exceptions for most family, some friends, children, and significant others. But once I’ve decided I’m comfortable with hugging someone, kissing them, letting them be close to me, and we’ve decided “okay, let’s have sex”, it’s in a box of ‘it’s okay to be physically close to someone right now, and this is the person I’m going to be with for this,’ so there’s a comfort level in making that decision, then acting on it. I’ve never been with someone new spontaneously though, every time I’ve talked with them through texting or instant messenger before we did anything, so it was planned and I knew what was going to happen. Open communication is super helpful. Once I got past a sort of ‘you’re not supposed to like sex because you’re a girl!’ mentality and learned terminology for things, I got pretty forward with everything. I know how to put into words what I like, don’t like, want to do, don’t want to do, and that clarity is very helpful. With most of my partners – at least, the good ones – I’ve had conversations about the sex afterwards. So, questions would be like, “What did you like the most? Was there anything you didn’t like? What do you want more of?” and things like that back and forth. It can be a bit sexy to talk like that, so it’s not super clinical, almost like reminiscing and then getting excited for the next time. Most of the time – we talk via messenger or text, which is just easier for me in any situation. It lets me get my words right.
With sensory issues, sometimes I get easily distracted. Like, we have a metal bedframe and if it starts squeaking it can just ruin everything. Sometimes my mind wanders a bit, though I haven’t really told my fiancé about that because I don’t want him knowing that I might be thinking about a sewing project while we’re having sex. Sometimes I get too hyper focused on sex itself and tense about it, and then I can’t orgasm because I wear myself out and just don’t have the energy to try anymore. This is really frustrating, and sometimes leads to me crying and apologizing for having a malfunctioning body because I get worried I’m disappointing him in bed. My fiancé has been really supportive about it though. Whenever I get upset over it, he just tells me its fine, we cuddle a bit, and then he might suggest we watch some Netflix or something to relax together, which helps.
A sensory issue I definitely have is with the fan or air conditioning when we’re naked. I don’t like feeling cold air blowing anywhere down there, and that’s where the apparently stuck vent points. So most of the time I just try to make sure he’s between me and the vent, or we have the covers on over us. I use the heavy comforter like a weighted blanket, and having it draped over us makes me very comfortable so I can focus on what we’re doing.
I like some eye contact during sex too, since it’s all very intimate. But there’s different positions so if I’m not in the mood to focus on eye contact, there’s a bunch of alternatives. Even if it is missionary, I can just close my eyes sometimes, which helps focus on what I’m feeling rather than things around the room. My fiancé thinks it looks sexy, so win-win.
Something that I think helped me get comfortable with the concept of having sex, before I had an in-person boyfriend, was writing about it a lot. I guess you could call it erotica. I’d write what I thought it would be like, that it would be enjoyable, things I thought I’d like or wanted to try one day. So I had it at least a little mapped out in my brain as to what the concept was, making it less foreign.
I used to be really shy and awkward about anything sexual at all (my nickname in high school was ‘virgin ears’ because I’d blush and clap my hands over my ears when people started talking about anything too intense for me), and I wasn’t always capable of saying words related to sex, like there was a block in my brain. Once I was more familiar with it, I think I’ve become pretty sex positive and much more open to talking about things than most people are – which I have to remember to reign in sometimes so I don’t make others uncomfortable. I think being autistic means that I don’t see the strict lines that the rest of society puts in place. I don’t want to be completely open about everything, since it is a private matter between my partners and me, and I don’t want to discuss that without permission, but I’ve seen a lot of “society says this is how you perform sex and relationships if you’re a girl” and I just sometimes throw that out the window and go with what feels good.
For example, realizing I was bisexual was strange. I’d always liked guys and had crushes on them, like society’s narrative says I should, but I only ever had one real crush on a girl before I figured myself out, and I hadn’t been completely sure what it was I was feeling. I brushed it aside and didn’t think about it for years, deciding to just focus on boys because it was a lot easier. Then someone pointed out to me that they saw me looking at girls and I realized, oh, they were right. I didn’t have to just like guys or girls like the boxes society likes people to fit into. I could like whoever was attractive. Guys, girls, trans, and anyone else who happened to catch my eye.
Same with sex itself – it something was fun, there was no reason to feel a taboo over it once I got used to it (though that’s all the details I’m giving about that!). I guess, I just don’t understand society very well, and that gives me freedom because I realized my hang-ups didn’t make any logical sense. While being autistic makes it difficult for me to find someone to have sex with, I think it ultimately gives me more enjoyment and freedom with the sex I do have.
If you like what you’ve read, like, share, comment, and/or follow to show support! You can also find me on facebook as Some Girl with a Braid, or on Twitter @AmalenaCaldwell.