The following article was sent to me by a dear friend. She asked to use this platform to share her story, and I happily agreed. This is her story.

Hi. I’m asexual. But you wouldn’t know that from looking at me, or speaking to me, because I’m not out to the great majority of the world. A couple weeks ago was National Coming Out Day, this week is Asexuality Awareness Week. I belong to the community, I identify strongly with the community, but I am not out, and because of this I am hesitant to take part in the festivities.

I want to tell you all my story, not that it needs to be heard, but I need to tell it. I thank Katie and the Odyssey for giving me this opportunity.

So-- who am I? Answering that would defeat the purpose of the anonymity BUT since you insist: I am in my early twenties. I attend college and participate on various groups and teams. I am a sociology major and a grad school hopeful. I love to cuss, rant about feminism, talk about Harry Potter, and pet dogs.

I always knew something was different about me (and not in the “I’m such a special fucking snowflake” way, the actual “holy shit I’m not like other people” way). In the years before college, I had mainly female friends, I was decently popular, I found boys cute… but I didn’t see the need to take those feelings beyond like “hey you aren’t a piece of shit like everyone else in this dump.” So I didn’t. My parents probably considered this a blessing -- dad never had to take the shotgun out to intimidate any dates that I had… because I never had any. But I watched my friends learn how to develop intimate relationships. I listened to them talk about who had said “I love you” first…. and I thought it was strange that “I love you” was such an important phrase. I loved my friends, and I told them that I did often. I wasn’t lying, but I was told repeatedly that it wasn’t the same. So I stopped trying to explain myself.

The feeling of “other” didn’t go away. By the time I turned 16, I was sure that something was wrong with me. Why didn’t I pursue relationships? Why did no one love me the way that they loved my friends? What was I doing wrong? I cried myself to sleep many nights, perceiving myself to be broken.

Fast forward to my sophomore year of college. I joined the speech team, I made incredible friends. But I still didn’t know what was wrong with me. Sick of this feeling, I finally did some Googling and discovered AVEN, or the Asexual Visibility and Education Network.

Asexual: (noun) a person who has no sexual feelings or desires.

Let me just tell you, Tumblr is a wonderful place. The more I read about the asexual community, the happier I became. Finally, there were textposts and comics and videos and journal articles that I could see myself in. There were poems, and fanfictions, and jokes. There were colors, and symbols, and words.

I had a secret now, one that I desperately wanted to share, but also one that I feared few people would understand.

Asexuality is still a fairly invisible sexuality. It isn’t the most invisible, by far, but few understand what and who we are. I’ve read several testimonials from asexual people who have come out to those they love, only to be told that their identity is not real. This is a legitimate fear that I have moving forward with my identity and exposing it to people. As I’ve tried to come out to people that I consider nearly family, I have been told that my asexuality is not real. That this is just a phase, that I’m giving up too soon.

Being closeted has been simultaneously a euphoric and trapped experience. Euphoric because I have a secret that very few people know, a tiny bit of myself that the rest of the world doesn’t get to see, a secret that only I can tell. Trapped—because I can’t share my experiences. It is difficult to simply be an ally to the LGBTQA+ community when you know what it’s like to not be understood. I could speak from a place of experience about my struggles and triumphs as an asexual person, and many days I wish that I could. But I can’t.

To my LGBTQA+ brothers, sisters, and non-conforming family: whether you are in or out of the closet, I stand with you. I admire your bravery every single day. I yearn for a day and a world in which every one of us feels comfortable and safe enough to come out and be proud… I’m optimistic that someday this will be a reality.

My identity is real. I am real. I am not broken, sick, or wrong. But for now, I’m staying in the closet.