the longest and most confusing and confused post ever.

I often get comments and/or messages from people telling me about how strong, how positive I am and how much it inspires them. And that's amazing. That's far more than I even deserve, that's such a great and extraordinary thing to hear or read; someone telling you you inspired them, in some way or another. Because life isn't just about oneself, at least I don't think it is. In the small or the biggest details and possibilities, helping and bringing positivity to others is one of the top things we should aim at. And so, receiving such messages is always heartwarming, and it is both very humbling and very great. Great as in YES! we can share, we can exchange, words and feelings can have an impact through a screen and make a difference. It sorts of erases all the walls we think separate each and everyone of us from one another.

And seeing that, I sometimes feel guilty or uncomfortable when talking about less happy things, less positive stuff, or events and facts that aren't lesson worthy. When I talk about my social anxiety, which I don't even do that much, it always ends with a positive note. Because that's the truth, it got better for me, it can and will get better for you, if you do seek for help. With time, love and baby steps.

I came on the Internet with no intention or goal, but now I can safely say that I want to exchange with others by documenting my life. I want to show a normal, daily life and make it useful and helpful for others. For all of those who feel lonely, strange, left alone, misunderstood or rejected. Because I've felt this way when I was younger and I had no one to turn to. I had no one talking about asexuality when I was lost and didn't understand what was going on in my body and mind, I had no one talking about how you should focus on pleasing you and doing you before pleasing others, how you shouldn't worry if you don't fit into your group of friends, or how it's okay to follow a different pace, or how your worth is not only to be found in your physical appearance.

The Internet gives me the possibility to speak and be heard, by many, and I want to use this opportunity wisely. I want to comfort, reassure, inspire and empower people by sharing my personnal experiences, my doubts, fears, dreams, worries and convictions, loves. Lately I've been starting to express myself about asexuality, and how it had affected my life until now.
And recently, after I started to come at peace with that, and embracing it even, something happened. Now, me vlogging and being so open online, this particular thing was made very 'public'. I met this guy, that I was really interested in. I had a crush on someone, for once! I was excited about it, I was happy about it, I was happy to see him twice a week where he was working, I was content with that and I talked about it online, and when things went further, aka us talking, meeting and getting closer I also talked about it online. And then obviously, when things turned wrong I talked about it online as well. I was debating whether to do it or not, because I was 1/ ashamed of feeling that down  2/worried people would think of it as pitiful and pathetic or think I was looking for sympathy   3/scared of the image I'd give to those people that tell me how joyful, inspiring and happy I am, and how much it means to them.
I still did. Because I had decided to start sharing it and didn't see any reason to suddenly pretend it had never happened, and also because I needed to get that out of my chest. I needed comfort, I needed some love. And as much as I do get love from my friends and family, I'm, I've always been and will always be an Internet person. It just is natural for me to share my life online.
I just want to be real, and I want it to be true.
I am a positive person, I am an happy person, I am strong and stay true to myself, yes. But I'm not that strong. I'm resilient, but I do get hurt more often than not, and I dare to say, more often than many of the people I know. However this time was quite hard and I'm still not over it, I'm still dealing with it, and turning it inside my head for hours, wondering how I could make that a positive experience. Because there's really not much to be found positive in that. That was me before the incident.

 

And that was me after the incident. It doesn't even look like the same person. I changed my hair in a rather ridiculous attempt to be more mature, more 'normal'. I cried every day, I almost fainted in the street, I decided I'd go for everything this person wanted from me, no matter how uncomfortable or scared I was. I begged for him to see me and talk to me. I literally begged him. I brought him more food and never stopped smiling when I was hurting so much inside. I couldn't sleep and stopped eating. I'm not super skinny on the picture below, but I'm definitely much skinnier than I normally am. I slept on the side of the bed and on the pillow he used, and I kept the bottle of wine he drank.For more than a month I didn't eat nor sleep, nor laughed nor felt happy or at least, not aching and hurting. And during these days that I spent lying on my bed, doing nothing, listening to nothing, thinking of nothing but him, replaying the scene over and over in my head, accusing myself, blaming myself for not having done this or that I felt so ashamed of who I was. I felt so ashamed of my asexuality, ashamed of the way I talked, baheved, looked, dressed, laughed, of what made me laugh, of the things I had said. I felt violated, after I had let someone enter my house, look at my books, pictures, memories and cupboards, lay on my bed, touch me and promise me things, I was now alone, ignored and with no answer. And when finally the story ended, it got worse. I couldn't stay alone at all, I let the bathroom door opened so that I could hear my sister talk, I called my mom as soon as I had no one with me anymore, I feared metro rides when I had no signal and no one to talk to.

 Even in videos, I look tired and older. I look exhausted. However I tried hard to control myself, to not let it show and while admitting my sadness I never really expressed it. Because I wanted to be strong and positive, because I didn't want to bother the internet with my pathetic heartbreak. But this is not only an heartbreak. It's rather difficult to put in words, and even more difficult to understand I suppose for people who aren't asexual, or have no issue with sexuality or intimacy. But to me, that's a turning point, something broke in me and I feel abnormal again. I look at people around me and it's as if someone were punching me in the face. I don't want to have sex with people, I don't really want to be in relationships either, but I can fall in love. I almost fell in love this time. And I cannot help but think of how sad that is. I've never heard anyone talk about that, I know very few asexual, I don't want to label myself, I don't want to enter a community, I don't want like some people suggested to try to find asexual people to date or hang out with. Because I've always been about mixing people, embracing differences and everyone's uniqueness. I don't want to be labelled and always have to be reminded about that part of me. But now I look at couples and people in love and it hurts. Because I know that if I fall in love, I won't get to live this love. I guess it's easy to understand how that's far more complex and painful than a regular heartbreak, those already being difficult to deal with.

So I might be slightly different, I might talk about it from time to time, I might cry online a few times, but I am not going to pretend that I'm fine or am just going on with my life easily. I'm not going to dwell into it either, but I needed to write that down. To be true to myself, and so that people know that if I don't forget about it or him easily, that is because of deep and very complicated reasons. And not only because a story ended. Which is anyway already a reason to be quite sad in itself.

If you've read all of that, thank you, that was quite long and I didn't really know where I was going with that. I'm not sure I expressed myself properly but really, I don't think I can on that topic. It's too confuse, confusing, painful and vast. But I hope I made a few things clearer, without destroying the image of the positive me, that is not only an image, but really me.

And to prove it, here's me now.