Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here
In the Middle — In The Gray
I’ve never been in a relationship — not because I couldn’t be, but because something about the way people talked about love, dating, and intimacy never quite landed right with me.
I thought maybe I was just “independent.”
That I was wired differently.
That maybe I had trust issues.
That maybe I was just too tired for all of it.
People projected their thoughts and fears onto me:
“You’ll change your mind when you meet the right person.”
“You’re just scared of being vulnerable.”
“You’re just picky.”
“You’re going to be alone forever if you don’t try.”
I got tired of explaining myself, so I stopped. I figured if I was going to be misunderstood, I might as well be quiet about it. For years, I stayed silent about what I wasn’t feeling — and tried to pretend it didn’t mean anything.
But two months ago, I found the word I didn’t know I was missing that described what I kept telling people with too many sentences:
Asexual.
Suddenly, I had a framework — not a label to box myself into, but a spectrum that felt like home. And while I’m still learning about it, still questioning and exploring, I finally understand something I’ve been living with my whole life:
I’ve always existed in the gray spaces.
And I always have.
Not Broken — Just Different
I used to feel like something was wrong with me.
- Why didn’t I daydream about love the way other people did?
- Why did romance in movies feel like background noise instead of a goal?
- Why didn’t I feel the “spark” that seemed to guide everyone else’s decisions?
I felt pressure — subtle and loud — from all sides:
Could We Talk About Relationships?
Like, seriously, could we?
- People coupling up just to avoid loneliness.
- Friends moving from one relationship to the next without breathing.
- Others settling down not because they were in love, but because they were tired of waiting.
One of my aunty’s asked if I’d ever cook for a (man), while we were watching “Gilmore Girls” during our weekly family dinners. I told her, “No, but cooking is an essential skill anyone should learn for themselves.”
Her question was very sudden, but I thought she was asking for something deeper than she let on, but I didn’t press after answering her second question of, “what can I cook?”
And I hated how this obsession to be paired up had been normal, had been the driving force that being in a relationship was all that mattered.
People weren’t going to “fix” my problems if they had their own struggles and insecurities to handle. Adding our crazy to their crazy? That’s a ball destined to drop and it’s a matter of “when”, not “if”, at that point.
I didn’t want to be with someone out of fear.
I didn’t want to be chosen because I was there — convenient, available, the “last resort.”
And I didn’t want to choose someone just to fill a silence I hadn’t made peace with in myself.
We’re all lonely.
And these relationships, in my opinion, never last.
What Queerplatonic Bonds Showed Me
Since learning about asexuality, I’ve also been learning about something called queerplatonic relationships (QPRs). They challenge the hierarchy that says romantic love is the only love that really matters.
They’re deeply committed friendships that blur the lines society forces on us — not romantic, not casual, not just “best friends.” Something deeper. Chosen. Defined by the people in it.
And when I learned about QPRs, something inside me clicked again.
That kind of intimacy?
That kind of intentional connection — that honors boundaries and still says, “you matter to me”?
That’s the kind of relationship I could see myself showing up for.
I don’t need the romance script.
I don’t need to be rescued.
I don’t need to follow anyone else’s timeline.
But I do need something that feels true, mutual, and emotionally safe. Something where I can offer depth and presence without pretending I’m someone I’m not.
I’m Not Against Relationships — I Just Don’t Want to Settle
The truth is, I’m not “averse” to relationships.
But I’ve also never been in one.
And I’ve never felt the urgency that so many others seem to have to get into a relationship so quickly.
If a relationship happens mutually, it happens.
But it won’t be rushed.
It won’t be forced just to avoid loneliness.
It won’t be rooted in fear or urgency or expectation.
And it definitely won’t be at the cost of who I am.
I’ve seen too many people get stuck in something they don’t even want, because they thought they had to. Because children entered the picture before they were ready. Because they didn’t stop to ask themselves:
“Is this what I want, or just what I’ve been told to want?”
For example, I don’t want children of my own.
I’m not against adoption, but only if life ever gives me the space, time, health, and stability to care for myself and someone else.
I know first hand how hard it is to care for a kid when parents were kids just fresh out of high school. No more prepared than a drop out; the year I was born was the year my dad graduated high school— my parents stayed together, they both did what they could even though they struggled, and my dad would remind me often that, “they made a choice, and they chose to own up to it,” rather than letting my grandparents adopt me.
So, I’ve witnessed it first hand why now isn’t in the cards to care for another person, except myself right now.
Speaking of right now?
I’m just trying to survive my 2 jobs.
I’m trying to sleep more than 3 hours a night.
Trying to hold onto the version of myself that doesn’t scream in exhaustion every day.
And even through all of that, I’m still showing up to write — because somewhere out there, someone might read this and say:
“Me too.”
What I Want Now: Intentional Connection
I want friendships where we really see each other — not just pretend we like each other because of what we can take from someone or give.
I want shared silence that doesn’t feel awkward.
I want loyalty that isn’t possessive or only from convenience.
I want support that doesn’t require me to sacrifice myself just to be worthy of it or beg for the bare minimum of care and basic human need.
I want to feel safe and known.
That’s all.
That’s everything.
I don’t need someone to “fix” me.
I just want to be allowed to exist in the gray — the in-between — and still be enough.
I’ve Been Let Down Too Many Times — Now I Know What I Value
It took years for me to figure out what my values and needs are from having so many friends treat me like I was expendable, worthless, useless, and not even their friend. I was only kept around out of convenience because I was loyal, supported my friends with my time, energy, with gifts my grandma made, and even with my own money.
It hurt when I was going through a rough time in my high school wrestling career and, where I wanted encouragement, my circle of friends told me to quit.
I didn’t want to quit, and I told them quietly that I didn’t want to quit. The two friends I followed into the wrestling room quit the first day. They said it was too hard, but I had a lot of fun, even though it was the first real sport I tried out, stuck with for 1 year, and it wasn’t purely academic either.
When I didn’t take their advice, one friend I knew since second grade yelled at me, she was the loud one in our group, for, “not taking their advice for my problem.”
Things were already like that where, in the “family dynamic” you have with friends, I wasn’t the “daughter, sister, or aunty.” Nope. I was the crazy neighbor with the bat. I used to just accept those labels, accepted that giving as much as I could without asking for anything in return, except to be included, would somehow let me be part of the group.
It was worse trying to make plans with everyone to walk around the mall or hang out after school and everyone would all be simultaneously busy. Every morning before class, without fail, they would all talk about how they had fun hanging out at the pool, at the beach, with each other, but no one invited me, not once.
So, I stayed silent, I kept myself small, hoping and waiting to be included, all just so I wouldn’t be alone either.
The Patterns Were Repeating — And I Didn’t See It Until a Decade Later
After I graduated high school, it was time for the next step with attending college. I figured, “new school, no one knows me, so I could be whoever I wanted to be.”
Yet the same habits came up again and again; because I didn’t know anyone, I would socially withdraw and keep to myself. I would speak to people, but no one really stuck around to exchange numbers with.
I made friends with 3 people at college who I hung out with the most, though 1 friend had been in my life for 10 years until very recently this year.
From my experiences with my high school friends and my supposed “best friend” from college who made me feel seen, who didn’t run or criticize me when my temper flared, who made me think things were going to be different, just ended up being the same.
It took another decade to see that the friends I made were only in it for the “fun time” and when things were convenient and not the “long and difficult times.” No different from any terrible relationship, huh?
They Hurt Me — But That’s How I Learned What Really Matters.
After everything I went through with each of my friendships, even my most longest standing friend of 10 years, I finally learned what I value in a friendship/relationship, even though it was hard to.
But What Good is “History” If There’s No Future? So, below was the start of my future going forward:
- Clear and direct communication
- Reciprocity
- Respect: as an adult, of my time and efforts, and my boundaries
- Accountability of choices and actions
- Authenticity
- Intellectual and physical growth
- Personal goals
- Peace of mind, not distress
- Shared direction
I’m not asking for perfection — I’m asking for depth. I’ve had enough of shallow relationships that only go as far as what I can give. From now on, I only build with those who want to grow beside me, not because they have to.
Too many have to’s never showed up for me or kept themselves accountable, so I had to learn to be the friend I wish I had, even though I hate myself.
An Invitation to Anyone in the Gray
If you’ve ever felt like you’re “not enough” for love…
If you’ve never seen yourself in the stories people tell about romance…
If you’re still figuring out your values, your boundaries, your wants and needs…
If you’ve felt pressure to settle just to stop being alone…
Then you’re not alone.
You’re not broken.
You don’t have to rush.
You don’t have to explain yourself to everyone.
Your way of loving — or not loving — is valid.
Your pace is allowed.
Your silence is sacred.
This is a gray space.
And it’s a safe space.
Thanks for sitting with me in it.
Gently, I ask:
Have you ever questioned the way you relate to love or connection?
What do you value most in a friendship, or in the people closest to you?
What are you still learning to accept about yourself?
I’m always open to hearing your thoughts — quietly, anonymously, or even just through reading. You can comment below, like, share, or subscribe for more stories like this, or just keep sitting with this post until you’re ready.
Take what you need.
Leave what you don’t.
You’re always welcome here.
Thank you.
— The Stratagem’s Archive
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