This is my submission for the July 2019 Carnival of Aces with the theme “Home.”
My asexuality has affected my living space in one major way: I have a single bed. It stands in a corner of my room – unassuming, unimposing, unimportant.
Home, to me, is where I can relax and be myself. A place where I can be alone. Having other people visit my place always feels like a bit of an invasion to me. I’ve never even considered getting a bigger bed, because I don’t plan to share it with anyone, ever. This was the case even before I knew I was asexual, or even that asexuality existed. I’ve always loved being alone. I love having no one else occupying my personal space, no one I need to take care of or be emotionally present for.
Since I live in a tiny one-room apartment, this gives me an advantage over my zedsexual neighbours, all of whom, despite being single, own massive beds that take up half the room. Just in case they meet someone they want to sleep with. They were all equally shocked and horrified when they saw my single bed, asking me whether I’d given up on life and love. But the truth is, having a single bed leaves me more space to dedicate to other things. Things I find more important, more fun, and more relaxing than sex anyway.
I love my single bed. It is awesome.