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The drive for sexual release is kind of just there. It's power can vary from person to person and from moment to moment, but it is always there, fuelled by all kinds of hormones (I won't pretend to fully understand the science of it) that vary their levels over time, depending on age and even what time of the month it is (for half of us, at least). Whether or not it's a biological imperative to procreate, an urge given by God to procreate, an urge given by God because he loves us and wants us to feel good, whatever—that's all kind of irrelevant. My point is that there's this inherent and natural need to perform these various acts with (an)other(s).1
The fact that this drive is always present in some degree has an enormous effect on our psyches. To be completely honest, it does manifest somewhat like a dependency (but, then, so does hunger, albeit with drastic physical consequences if ignored). Try and imagine what it's like to have your brain and your body tell you constantly (and quite obviously, for men) that you want to do something, something that your body then tells you feels really, really good. Even if the voice itself isn't that loud, it's still there. You want to do this thing.
With that premise, asexuality is, I think, pretty easy to understand. If the sex drive is, for most of us, just there, then for someone who doesn't feel it, it just isn't there. It doesn't matter whether it feels good or not (I can't speak to how any asexuals might physically feel), it's just that your body and mind aren't telling you that you want it. (This is all, however, a psychological assumption, YMMV).
That said, I think that there is also a similar, constant drive for emotional closeness as well as physical. Now, we've arranged physical intimacy into a clear hierarchy—a handshake is not as intimate as a hug is not as intimate as a kiss is not as intimate as an orgasm—and the drive is to reach the top and get to that point where the most intense physical intimacy is. Similarly, I think we've arranged emotional intimacy into a similar hierarchy and the drive is likewise to reach the top and have one person we feel closer to than anyone else. Whether or not this quest for "love" is merely a result or manifestation or society-friendly-way-of-putting the quest for sex is also irrelevant. It's there.
So we have these two—maybe inherently related, maybe not—drives, both compelling us towards some kind of intimacy with another person. Maybe one of the two is much stronger in a given person, or at a given moment, whatever. The problem with intimacy is its exclusionary nature. If you have this intimacy with one person, you, by definition, can't share it with anyone else. Okay, physically it's a moment-to-moment thing, but our emotions tend to be more long-term than that. If we love someone, romantically, the intimacy of that love excludes other people from sharing it2 and we can be sure that if we love someone one minute, we'll love them the next, if not in a few months or whatever.
Thus, when you become emotionally intimate with someone, you feel that it's unnatural to exclude them from other forms of intimacy. When you have this other, similar drive for a different kind of intimacy, it seems only natural to combine them. Thus, physical intimacy becomes an expression of emotional intimicy; the very intimate nature of sex becomes a part of the intimate nature of love, because it's something you can't, in that moment, share with anybody else. This is only encouraged by the fact that sex feels so incredibly good; because it feels so good, you want to share it with someone you love, but because it's so intimate, you feel that this is the person you should be sharing it with.
Sex then becomes a way of expressing love. Not just any way, but the way, because "sex" and "love" are at the top of their hierarchies of physical and emotional intimacy. It's just like saying "I love you," but in the deepest, most intense, most intimate way.
Therefore, if I were to be in a relationship with someone I loved, someone with whom I felt we had reached the appropriate level of intimacy for sex3, and they didn't want to, I would feel not just sexually frustrated—there are, obviously, ways of releasing that tension—but also emotionally frustrated. They would be telling me that I would be unable to express what I feel emotionally for them in a way that I felt was deeper and more complete that any other way. It isn't "I think you're hot at want to do you," it's "I love you and want to share something very special with you." It would be like telling me that I wasn't allowed to even say "I love you." It would be taking away what I feel is an important element of a romantic relationship. Not the be all and end all, certainly, but a part of it none the less, and the relationship would feel less complete without it.
So, to sum up: I think that in most of us, there is a drive for intimacy, both physical and emotional, and to just cut half of that out doesn't feel right. But the dilemma is what to do if you feel the drive for emotional intimacy, but not the physical, when the rest of the world, including any potential SO, considers them inseparable. Like you said, bluewind, it would be a sacrifice on your part to go along with something with which you're uncomfortable—and, frankly, if I knew the other person wasn't feeling it, I wouldn't consider it intimacy of the sort I just described, because it wouldn't be sharing in the experience. It wouldn't even be like you're sacrifice meant anything. That's why I'd advise against trying an open relationship or anything like that. It doesn't mean that your hypothetical guy will be able to divorce the ideas of sex and love in his mind. In my experience, he probably won't4, which means he'll still be frustrated in his relationship with you, because he'll still think that you are the one he should be having sex with.
I hate to tell you this, but the fact is that for most of us (not all), sex and love are very, very related. A couple might be in love and not have sex, but most likely that's because they don't think they've reached the right level of emotional intimacy yet. Hey, that's their business, but if you have a guy and he thinks "we aren't ready yet" while you think "we would be, if I cared about it," you might start to think that he doesn't value the relationship as much as you do, and let me tell you, that is frustrating. And, obviously, what happens if/when he does finally get to that point where he feels he's ready?
So as far as advice goes, I have to honestly tell you that I think the best thing is to just look for someone who feels the same way you do, or who doesn't think quite as much of sex. That is...kind of hard, I understand. But you know what? I promise you that there are guys out there like that. I've met a few. Plenty of other people have met a few. Really, the problem you face is the same problem most of the rest of us have: finding someone you actually like who likes you back. :smallsmile:
And, finally, I don't think it's just because society tells us that sex and love are related. In fact, I very much resent that assertion, because that's telling me that the feelings I have when I make love to whoever I'm with aren't real, which, as according to the thought processes I just spent an ungodly amount of time explaining, is to me tantamount to telling me that I don't really love that person. Let me tell you, there is very little in this world that will make me as angry as someone else telling me how I feel. I'm sure an asexual person would feel the same way if someone told them "oh, you're just repressed." Annoying, ain't it?
1: Please note that this premise that sexuality is natural does not imply the assertion that asexuality is unnatural. That would be a false dichotomy.
2: I am not including those who consider themselves polyamorous, nor those with open relationships, because I can't claim to speak for that frame of mind. While I'm using a generalized "we" and a generalized "you," that's mainly a rhetorical thing. I can only speak for my own point of view. Again, YMMV.
3: I think it's obvious that what qualifies as "the appropriate level of intimacy" varies from person to person. There is no all-encompassing rubric by which to judge this, and what's appropriate for you may not be appropriate for someone else. Once again, YMMV (as it does with all sex-related things).
4: I'm sure there's plenty of people willing to tell me I'm wrong on this. Maybe in some cases, but be honest, not most of them.