‘I’ve never felt sexually attracted to anyone - and I’m not alone’
Caroline Cull always thought there was something wrong with her because she didn’t want sex. Then a “weird” Google search gave the answer.
Asexuality is relatively new to the public sphere and it’s thought less than 1 per cent of adults identify as asexual. Here, two Australians describe their experiences of being asexual in their own words.
Caroline Elisabeth Cull, 27, from Melbourne
I was on a date one night when my date moved closer to me on the couch. “I just need to go to the bathroom!” I blurted before quickly scampering off.
After succumbing to the pressure to come back to his place after dinner, I’d been chatting away and doing everything I could think of to stop him from making a move. But after half an hour, I’d run out of tactics. When he leaned in for a kiss, I had to ’fess up. “I’m not feeling this, sorry,” I said. Deflated and confused, I went home.
At 25, I’d never felt sexually attracted to anyone. Growing up, I’d thought it was because I was a good little Christian girl. But as I got older and moved away from the church, I just assumed there must’ve been something wrong with me. Back at home that night after my horrible date, I had a few drinks to drown my sorrows and found myself Googling for answers at 3am. Why sex bad, I drunkenly
typed. After scrolling through a few pretty weird search results, I stumbled upon an article about asexuality. That sounds just like me! I thought. I continued researching online and discovered a whole community of people who felt the same way. It helped me feel less awkward and made it easier for me to talk more freely about being asexual.
The asexual community were so welcoming that I wanted to find a way to make my own contribution and help spread awareness. As an aspiring filmmaker, I’d noticed a lack of
representation for asexuals on screen.
In June 2021, I started a Facebook group for asexual people in film. A week later, I received a message from US screenwriter and actor Mallie McCown.
She told me she’d found my group and asked if I’d like to help her promote a movie she’d written called Dear Luke, Love, Me.
It was a romantic comedy with two asexual lead characters that would be directed by Guillermo Diaz, the US actor who starred in the TV drama series Scandal.
I’ve since helped to find sponsors and fundraise more than $140,000 for Dear Luke, Love, Me, which is currently in post-production. It’s so amazing to finally see asexual people
represented in film. I know first-hand what it’s like to feel abnormal and I’m on a mission to keep spreading awareness so no-one ever has to feel as lonely as I did.
Sam Harkin, 29, Melbourne
I always felt uneasy talking about sex. Anytime a sex scene flashed on a screen or my friends discussed it over coffee, my skin crawled.
Why did anyone want to see or talk about something so private and intimate? Just listening to my mates discuss their bedroom antics felt like I was intruding.
I always knew I was different when it came to sex but I didn’t have a name for it. I just thought, due to my autism, it wasn’t something I was keen on.
At 20, I was sitting in bed scrolling through a blogging website, Tumblr, when one post caught my eye.
It was about asexuality, a term used to describe people who don’t experience sexual attraction. That feels like it fits me, I thought. As an autistic person, I knew I didn’t always
approach things in life like most people and had figured sexuality was the same. I’d had romantic crushes on people in my uni classes, but I couldn’t imagine kissing or touching them like my friends talked about. It was satisfying to discover that part of myself had a specific name. There was nothing wrong with me: my sexuality was that I simply didn’t experience sexual attraction.
Intrigued, I kept researching and found a community online and through uni. It was a relief to finally feel like I fitted in.
Sadly, I also found some negative stereotypes about asexuality when talking to people about it.
Men are so often pigeonholed as being the drivers of physical relationships, and if you want to sleep with lots of people, that’s fine. Just don’t judge me for not wanting that.
People may think I call myself ace (a shortened name for asexuality) to be different. But it’s just who I am.
In time, I’d love to fall in love and build a life for myself, and I hope putting my story out there will help others learn the true meaning of asexuality.
I want people who are questioning their sexuality to realise they’re not alone.
This story originally appeared in Take 5 magazine and has been republished here with permission.