No Tale of Woe
*I have changed names to protect their privacy*
I had a director who had a hard-on for meetings. Seriously. In the three years I worked under her at the non-profit, I had never been to so many meetings in my professional life. Sometimes we had meetings before meetings to get on the same page. She specifically loved Staff Development Days. Our team of four, sometimes five, would go off-site and discuss plans and projects for our programs.
“That Barbara,” my manager said to me one day, “she knows how to keep a meeting going. She always finds something new to talk about.”
“Not really,” I replied. “We’re talking about the same thing only from a different angle.”
For one Staff Development Day, we traveled to my manager’s lake house, which she graciously offered for us to use. My director, thinking we all loved spending time together, scheduled a 9 am to 8 pm team building off-site. To say that was one of the longest days of my life is an understatement.
During this day, she planned several “games” to get to know each other better. We’ve been working together for almost two years. I knew them enough. But that wasn’t enough for her.
Barbara loved deep, thought-provoking questions. She was desperate to know you from the very depths of your soul. But not in a naturally inquisitive way. Oh, no. She used this shit against you if you didn’t agree with her, and she did that with me. Quite often.
I could usually avoid these heart-to-hearts, but on this Staff Development Day, I had nowhere to hide.
Toward the end of the day, we were each given a slip of paper with a question. We couldn’t look at it yet. The rules were we had 90 seconds to read and think about the question, 90 seconds to answer it, 90 seconds for the group to think of questions, and a final 90 seconds to answer questions people had.
What the actual fuck?
My question was, “Why are you here?”
I concealed my laugh after reading it. Because I’m forced to be. Because I have no choice but to go along with her stupid games.
Knowing those weren’t the answers she sought, I decided to be honest. What else could I do? When my “thinking” 90 seconds was up, I said, “To tell stories and reach people through my writing.”
“Why do you love writing?” Barbara asked 90 seconds later.
“I don’t consider myself an interesting person,” I replied. “I don’t have crazy stories to tell from my personal experiences because I don’t have many. I haven’t really traveled anywhere. My family all gets along. I have great friends. So I guess I write about fictional people getting into all sorts of trouble so I can live through them. I really do want to travel, but until then I’ll remain boring and uninteresting.”
As I spoke, it reminded me of the exchange between Jane Eyre and Edward Fairfax Rochester in Charlotte Bronte’s 1847 novel. Following Rochester’s return to Thornfield, three months after Jane has been a governess for his ward, he demands an audience with her. The two embark on a rather intense conversation in which they size each other up through words.
Rochester says to Jane after she tells him about her youth, “You have lived the life of a nun.” The 2011 film adaption starring Mia Wasikowska as Jane and Michael Fassbender as Rochester adds texture to this conversation by having Jane tell him she has “no tale of woe.”
When he hears about her awful childhood, he counters, “No tale of woe?”
That was what I almost offered to this group.
I have no tale of woe. My life may be boring, but I’m surrounded by love and support from my family and friends. Why do I love writing? Because it’s a part of me. A part I can share with the world to make me sound interesting.
The rise of social media has made it easy for people to share their stories in more ways than one. But by putting your story out there for others to hear, you’re opening yourself up to responses. Positive. Negative. Indifferent responses.
It took me some time to post about my asexuality. The bulk of my online presence was in the safety of the AVEN (The Asexual Visibility & Education Network) forums. Friendly and supportive were the primary moods on the website and I feared venturing outside of that. I knew that announcing my asexuality on my social media profiles would open me up to comments.
Asexuality is still one of the least talked about orientations. Many people still don’t believe it’s a real thing. In fact, there’s a new book releasing tomorrow called Sounds Fake But Okay, in which an ace and aro talk about relationships, sex, and more.
People believe asexuals had bad sexual experiences. Or they think we’re afraid to have sex. They say it’s a phase. These are common responses we get when we come out as ace.
Professor Anthony Bogaert writes in his book, Understanding Asexuality: “Why is sexual identity important to people in the first place? Why does a person need to locate, psychologically speaking, his or her sexual self, and perhaps express it, even publicly?” Later he adds,
“No one cares that you are not having sex, and no one will put you in jail for not having sex. So, what is all the fuss about?”
Identity is what the fuss is about. Identity is important to most people. But it’s also something that changes. Evolves. It’s constantly shifting. When I discovered I was asexual, I felt for the first time in my life that my identity was complete.
Going back to Jane Eyre for a second; Jane seeks independence throughout her story. It’s her ultimate goal. It’s what she identifies most with. Yes, she falls in love along the way, but independence is her priority. When she finally gets it, she is at peace and able to forgive and move forward. If Jane had not earned her independence, I don’t think she would’ve gone back to Rochester. The last thing she wanted to feel was dependent on someone, especially a man. When she returns to Rochester, she was more open to receiving his love.
So why do asexuals feel the need to come out?
Because like Jane, we seek to be proud of our full selves. But it’s difficult to voice. Anyone in the LGBTIA+ community will tell you coming out is one of the scariest moments of their lives. Because you never know how someone — especially a loved one — will take the news.
So, why am I here?
To stand proudly as an asexual and share my experience with others. To not let it become my “tale of woe,” and not let it define how others see me. The only person I need to validate this part of my identity is, is me.
