A Dentity

My life in the past 6 years has been weird.

Two weeks after my 35th birthday I told my then boyfriend I was gay. Before you feel too bad for him, he was also the man who had been forcing himself on me.

At 36 I got sober.

At 37 I moved across the country to Portland, where I knew hardly anyone and had no plans.

At 38 I came out to the world, while also having what would probably have been considered a minor nervous breakdown in times past.

At 39 I finally got diagnosed with ADHD.

And now, at 40 (almost 41) I got what I hope and believe to be the final diagnosis, and answer, to what’s always been “up” with me. Why certain things just never seemed to make sense or work for me the way they did for everyone else.

I’m Autistic.

Figuring out my identity has not been easy. I’m a very gay person who was deeply enmeshed in comphet (compulsory heterosexuality), who’s only understanding of romance existed in my fantasies, and I couldn’t figure out why I was unable to bring those same feelings of love to a live person. I did everything I was supposed to. Why wasn’t it working?

Realizing I am Autistic was the connection of every dot which had been darting around my head after seemingly unspecific destinations since childhood. There are so many pieces of myself that finally make sense. But there are a couple in particular I want to focus on.

I’m Asexual.

Technically I’m in the portion of the Ace Spectrum that could be considered demisexuality. What this means for me is that, while I do enjoy sex and have a libido, my sexual ATTRACTIONS are way less frequent than the average person, and almost always dependent on a deeper connection. This makes sense to me, seen thru a lense of Autism, because as an Autistic person, I very much require a framework of context. I dislike casual flirting because it doesn’t make sense to me, yet I respond to emotional intimacy and to much more forward sexual advances inside of emotional intimacy and trust, because I understand them. That’s a framework, a safe container for me to express and explore my sexual and romantic self. Without the safe container, I feel like I’m playing a game no one has given me the rules for. And the stakes are…entirely too high. This is, I believe, LARGELY why it’s difficult for me to simply look at a person no matter how attractive and feel a sexual response…I am missing the necessary CONTEXT. Context….it’s a thing. Which leads me to the next piece I want to discuss.

I’m Agender.

I came out as nonbinary last year, but am actually only very recently coming to this specific conclusion about my gender identity. I’m not going to get into a deep explanation on gender. I think by now anyone I know who may be reading this would agree that gender is not my clothes, my hair, my breasts, or my vulva. This I’ve all known for years now. But I never could answer for myself what gender WAS. A lot of folks will say, when speaking of their gender, that they have a deep knowing of what it is. I’ve been told it’s a sense of rightness that can’t really be argued against.

I don’t have this. When I really started to examine what my gender might be when removing clothing and body and social experiences….I don’t have anything. What I have removed is the CONTEXT that I had been socialized to believe gender was. And as an Autistic person, those rules were easy enough to follow because they made sense. I didn’t feel “wrong” by identifying and presenting as a cis woman, necessarily. But I also didn’t really feel like “me”. I enjoy all kinds of clothing, both “femme” and “masc”. I like having body and facial hair. I like wearing makeup. Since childhood I have enjoyed games and activities that got categorized into both ends of the shitty gender binary we are all forced into. I thought it was dumb that “girls” weren’t supposed to like playing in the mud or that “boys” shouldn’t like fairy princesses. Now that I understand that a true and deep sense of gender is something I just don’t have, I finally make sense to myself. And I love this about myself. But there is one thing that I have never really loved, and I think I’m ready to change.

I’m not Andrea.

It’s a beautiful name. But the truth is i have literally always felt a little silly when saying it. It feels strange being called it. Just a tiny bit, I think I have always cringed internally when using it or hearing it. As a child, “Andrea” sounded adult….a woman I was going to one day become. And it seemed something that I could never live up to, and had no real interest in ever trying. It wasn’t me. By high school I had adopted the name Drea. I loved Drea. I still do. In fact I started asking folks to call me Drea exclusively last year. And that is how I learned that Drea, much as I love the name, is also not me. Not anymore.

I have a name I’ve been trying with close friends. I like it a lot. I’m still settling on it and plan on speaking to family before I make any final decisions or a public change. And I may yet change my mind. Who knows?

But I do know that everything I have talked about would not have ever made sense to me in the way they do today if I’d never figured out the specifically unique and wonderful way my brain works. My Autism diagnosis gave me the key to myself. I am not Andrea, but I am an Autistic, Agender, Asexual, ADHD, recovering Alcoholic person. And I am so much more. I’m also an Artist, an Animal lover, an Activist (sometimes, when I have the energy), a new Aunt. And lastly, I’m tired and quite ready to be done Analyzing.

And that’s all perfectly A — OK!