"I couldn't admit to them how desperately I wanted to be in a romantic relationship. [...] And the fact that I so desperately wanted a boyfriend - or a girlfriend, a partner, whoever, someone - was a sign that I was not strong, or independent, or self-sufficient, or happy alone. I was really quite lonely, and I wanted to be loved."

I was a fool for thinking this book would be a lighthearted read for me. Fully knowing it is about a teenage girl discovering asexuality. I think I was about the age of 15 when I first discovered the umbrella term asexuality. I knew about it, but I didn't dare put that label on me, because I was still young, just a late bloomer, who would find someone attractive someday. Who would also one day relate to gushing about the looks of some celebrity, who would one day have a type. And the reason I did not feel like gushing about boys my age or had crushes on them was because I was gay. I had to be a lesbian. Either straight or gay. That's how it worked. I outed myself to the same people more times than I have fingers to count with. I'm a pro in getting out of the closet. It's natural to me by now. At some point I stopped because I was changing my mind about what label fits me every second day. It was ridiculous. Confusing. Lonely. Nobody I knew as a teenager experienced the same internal struggle about sexual attraction I did. Then I learned about asexuality, and some things clicked into place. But I didn't want to be asexual. I wanted to love and be loved. Desperately. And love is always tied to sexual attraction, right? So I kept searching for another box I could fit in. Well, more accurately force myself in. I (thought I) had a crush on a boy my age during my exchange year when I was 16/17 years old. But the thought of confessing my feelings was terrifying. Because if he liked me back, we would do all those couple things, that I really didn't want to do. And romantic love is only true romantic love when you kiss and do other stuff. So I stayed quiet and got over my feelings. I'm still terrified of ending up alone. Of always being the second priority for people. Because I was told all my life that the only true love is the one involving romantic feelings and sexual attraction. I'm not sure whether I'm capable of having either of those. I can't bear the burden of life on my own. Loveless is the starting point for another journey regarding my sexuality. The journey of finally coming to terms with the fact, that love is versatile, that love looks different for everyone, and that the world won't end, should I never find that someone. It will take time until I can fully accept that part of my identity, but I felt seen for the first time in my life. For the first time in my life I can admit to myself, that I'm asexual and that the thought of me kissing other people or doing anything sexual with them disgusts me.