For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me. My first time at the Jug, sober and unamused, I sat pensively as my friends began the traditional mating ritual. To my left, two of my friends, caught in the height of winter romance, begin voraciously eating each other’s faces. To my right, lay my only salvation. A new acquaintance brought along for the sole purpose of rescuing me from a night of perpetual third-wheeling. Before I can manage to initiate conversation, a man approaches from the shadows. He staggers up drunkenly. His move is deliberate. His craft practiced time and time again. Without a word, he places himself firmly against her backside. The trap is sprung. The most disgusting white people dance ensues. I walk defeated from the Jug, and pass out on the couches of the Colgate Inn... until it is time to return home.

Fig 1. Fake grinding vs. Real grinding
Face it white people, our hips have been lying to us.

Though I have grown accustomed to the grimy rituals of Colgate nightlife, they are still as difficult to understand as they were my freshman year. My tendency to have conversations at the Jug; my clear lack of interest in random hookups; my view of dancing as a flirtatious sport, rather than a sexual expedient. These weird idiosyncrasies; these peculiar dispositions; I thought they were the result of a strange nerd, or perhaps a southern boy still too attached to his Christian roots. Either way, they demonstrated to me that I was alienated from the campus' main social sphere.

Now, I know that my actions have nothing to do with my nerdiness or southernness. They have something to do with my sexuality. The truth is: I am a demisexual. Demisexuality "is a sexual orientation in which someone feels sexual attraction only to people with whom they have an emotional bond." The requirements of this emotional bond vary from person to person. For me, it could be as simple as a compassionate conversation about your family, or an intellectual conversation about Aristotelian Metaphysics. I simply need to know that anyone I am going to share myself with physically has a base level of human empathy. For others, this emotional bond could take years to develop, and may require a strong foundation of trust and intimacy. As is the case with all people, the way we emotionally bond ourselves with others can vary. This is no different with demisexuals.

Fig 2. I am essentially an Alien from Avatar

Demisexuals are often placed on the asexuality spectrum, but this placement can be misleading. It is not the case that demisexuals can't find others physically attractive. After all, there is a certain beauty (cultural or otherwise) to the human form. It's simply that we lack an innate sexual attraction to purely physical characteristics. For instance, I can admit that Angelina Jolie and Megan Fox are attractive, but I have as much desire to have sex with them as I do a bag of rocks. Meanwhile, I would walk over miles of hot coals to be with that compassionate, soulful goddess, Alicia Keys.

Fig 3. I want 'No One' but you Alicia

You may wonder: "Alex, why are you telling us this about your emotional problems? This is the reason I avoid you at parties." To be real, as difficult as it is to reveal this about myself, this article is not about me. It is about us. All of us. The Colgate community and campuses across the nation. Why? Because demisexuality is easy to understand. Most people feel a heightened physical connection once we've bonded with someone, and many of us feel isolated by the 'hookup culture' running rampant across college campuses. We understand this, but do we understand what it is like to be elsewhere on the spectrum of sexuality? Do we understand how isolating it must feel to be asexual on a campus where the main form of social capital is sexual relations? Do we understand the feelings of queer, gay, and lesbian individuals in a culture of overwhelming heteronormativity?

Honestly, I can't say that I do. In fact, none of us can fully understand what it is like to have a sexual orientation other than our own, but if we value inclusive communities, if we care about our friends, if we maintain a base level of empathy for other human beings, then there are starting points where we can begin to build a better campus community for all peoples.

First, we must do our part to become educated on issues of gender, and sexuality. You don't need to be a women's studies major (or LGBTQ minor) to have a simple understanding of other sexual identities. Sexuality has a real, concrete impact on our lives. Knowledge of basic sexual identities and issues arising from our views on sexuality should be as ingrained as politics, race, and religion. It is not enough to simply know about different sexual orientations. We have to listen. We have to understand. We need to be open to hearing the voices and stories of those who have different experiences of sexuality. It is from this starting point that we can build inclusive, caring communities. Once we acknowledge difference, while at the same time lending credence and understanding to marginalized voices, we can build a truly welcoming campus community. Otherwise, I can assure you that members of our community will continue to be left in the Colgate Inn lobby.

Fig 4. I take pride in my abilities.

Second, hook-up culture needs to end. I don't mean that you can no longer get your groove on at the Jug. I mean that we need to stop thinking that Colgate has a 'hook-up culture.' It is okay to have physical experiences without attachment if you so choose, but we need to put a stop to the belief that hook-ups are the only goal of a fun night out. The idea that a night is only successful if you bring someone home has an immensely damaging impact on the campus. People become objects for social climbing, and sexual gratification, rather than equal partners in a sexual experience. Those who choose not to/are not able to hook-up feel alienated and are consequently unable to identify with the rest of campus. The term 'hook-up' culture itself is damaging because it creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. If we agree there is a hook-up culture on campus, then we give credence to an invisible societal pressure to engage in hook-ups. Ultimately, we are better off without the term. There are people who enjoy hook-ups, and there are those who do not. To establish it as a culture is only to re-entrench the idea that everyone must hook-up to fit in.

Third, instead of engaging the social space with only our own goals in mind, we should consider the goals of our friends. While we might choose to engage in hook-ups, our friends might find other forms of physical and non-physical relationships more fulfilling. We need to recognize and accept the ways others choose to interact socially and physically. If you know one of your friends is constantly wing-manning you rather than hooking up, perhaps take a day off from the sexy times for a friend’s night out instead. Once again, this is only possible if we take the time to learn from and understand the desires of those close to us.

Fig 5. If these ladies can take a break from sex, you can too.

When I was a freshman, my girlfriend (at the time) was approached by a guy on our floor. He felt that it was his duty to go up to my girlfriend and tell her that I was gay. She chuckled to herself, looked at him, and told him that I was definitely not gay. Turns out that this man had been in my room and had seen that I keep a gay pride flag on my desk. He concluded from this fact that I must be gay and that he should be the one to tell my girlfriend. You know, I may not be gay, but I am proud. I am proud that we live in a world filled with so many different backgrounds, beliefs, and sexualities. I am proud of my friends who survive and succeed while suffering from discrimination on a daily basis. I am proud that we as humans have the ability to empathize with people from all over the world, even with people we have never even met. The true determining factor of moral character is whether or not we choose to exercise this empathy. If we really want Colgate to be the accepting, inclusive, diverse community that we know it can be, then we must take this crucial step. We must change the pressures of our social space, and we must learn to love difference.

Fig 6. I love my job.