Don’t Touch Me

I don’t like to be touched.

I can’t say why or when this started but it has been something that I have lived with for twenty or more years since I was 12/13.

When I say I don’t like to be touched, I am being slightly ingenious in how I am describing it. I can be touched by people but only after I have known them for a long time.

In a way, it is related to my sexuality. I have a weird sexuality in that I am demisexual. It is not a big deal, really, although nobody has a clue what I am talking about on the rare occasions that I mention it.

Basically it means that I am asexual but with shagging and kissing. Well, not quite but…what the hell, I will try to explain better…

It means that I have, usually, no sexual attraction to anyone, male, female, animal or mineral. But, and this is a biggish ‘but’, when I have known someone for a long time, I can and do develop feelings of a romantic nature that may/can lead to kissing and The Sex.

You got that? Good.

I have a mantra, or rather something I say whenever someone touches me.

“Don’t touch me.”

It is a Pavlovian response, I guess. And it offends nearly everyone. A lot of people take it personally as if I am implying that there is something wrong with them. So not the case, really really.

I have no idea why people get offended when I tell them that being touched by them is like having ants crawl all over my body. Ha, kidding! But there is a little truth in there.

And for all my jokes, it means that however lonely I am, I am more so because of the lack of human contact.

That is the long and the tall of it.

I am just a broken toy.


About greebohobbes

All-round irritant, expert swordsman (loves lopping off the heads of ghouls), professional charlatan and outrageous wearer of black cocktail dresses...
This entry was posted in asexual, asexuality, awkwardness, BekHobbes, Demisexual, demisexuality, depression, realife, reallife and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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