Explaining Asexuality, Without Wisdom Teeth

Right before the start of my senior year of high school, I had my four wisdom teeth removed. They say it’s better to do it earlier in life, before they’ve completely developed and when your body will best be able to handle the pain that comes with it. Apparently, there are some 86 year old patients who develop wisdom teeth, and their bodies are pretty feeble at that point, almost too feeble to handle the small removal operation.
It hurt. A lot. A lot. I went home with my face swelled all over the place, my mouth unable to open to its full extent (stitches) and my cheeks incredibly sore. However, I was excited. I was excited because I knew that after dental surgery, it is not only allowed, but encouraged to eat as much ice cream as you want. That’s what I planned to do. My mom had already been to the store and bought me a selection of my favorite ice creams, and as soon as I got home my greedy self grabbed a bowl and dished out three enormous scoops of Neopolitan. Oh, I was so happy taking my first bite of judgment free pleasure! Yet as soon as the ice cream was in my mouth, I knew that something was wrong. I couldn’t taste it! My cheeks and teeth could just barely feel relief from the cold substance hitting them, but my tongue was so numb from the surgery that my taste buds didn’t know what was hitting them. I ate half my bowl in denial of my situation, thinking that somehow the numbness would wear off and I would experience my delicious food, but it never happened. I finally had to stop when I realized that a lot of the ice cream was actually just sliding out of my mouth, and I had drool all over my face.
I was so upset. Not only could I not taste, but all the ice cream was making me sick to my stomach. And fat! I was experiencing all cost, and no reward! I was so depressed, I couldn’t think about ice cream for a long time after my mouth had healed.

That’s what asexuality is like, at least for me, when it comes to physically being with another person. I’m taking part in something that I know I’m supposed to enjoy, but I’m unable to feel pleasure from what is going on. If you can understand why I didn’t want to eat Ice Cream for a while, I hope that you can understand why I’m not exactly jumping into hooking up with anyone. Despite what my dancing might suggest.

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