João Felix-show, ecco Arnautović e Tchaouna: il weekend degli ex Serie A
https://www.derbyderbyderby.it/calcio-estero/lo-show-di-joao-felix-il-primo-gol-di-arnautovic-ed-il-ruggito-di-tchaouna-il-weekend-degli-ex-serie-a/?utm_source=flipboard&utm_medium=activitypub

Pubblicato su Calcio @calcio-Gazzetta

I want to be bad at sex

#ThingsYouCantUnsay #asexual #AsexualAwarenessWeek #vanilla

I want to be bad at sex. I am a low sex drive, sex-repulsed, vanilla asexual. I don’t like kink. I don’t need the most intense smut to get aroused. I don’t need to “have sex with the right person” to unlock my interest in sex.

It’s not quite that I dislike sex. I’m very sensual, I enjoy touch, I enjoy kissing and dancing, I’m very physical when I feel comfortable. I like affirming my partners. I like being desired. I like KNOWING that I am desired.

But I have a lot of trauma about performing sexually. My identity as a trans woman is the locus of substantial trauma, but my identity as an asexual woman contains at least as much, and honestly, I’ve shed far more tears about being asexual than I have about being trans.

The trope I find the most painful is the one I call allo-lite. It’s relating to asexuals like we are allosexual, just with some added step to unlock our allosexual-ness. We just need to be MORE aroused. MORE compatible. MORE emotionally invested. And then there will be some payoff. We’ll be unusually ravenous or freaky or satisfying to be with, intimately.

I’ve striven to be like that, in the past. I’ve tried to be kinky and full of praise for my partners bodies and reciprocal about pleasure and build up their egos and give them orgasms that surpass what they’ve had with any other partner. Even when I was in the closet about every aspect of my queer identity, I had internalized that there was something wrong with who I was, sexually, and therefore I had to perform better than everyone else so I could maintain long term romantic relationships.

I’ve had multiple partners tell me I’m the best sexual partner they’ve had. It even happened during a relationship that existed entirely after I was out as asexual.

I hate it.

It’s not about me. It’s not who I am, it’s not how I want to be. If I’m being “good at sex,” I’m being bad at being myself. I don’t try to be good at sex, anymore. I embrace being bad at sex. I am comfortable with the idea that my partners will view me as not even beginning to satiate their sexual appetites. I don’t WANT to be their only source of sexual contact.

I just want to be me. And I’m bad at sex, and most of the time, I don’t want to have it. And I love that for me.

“Last Time”

https://fed.brid.gy/r/https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2025/10/27/last-time-nick-laird-poem