I met this lovely man once. Several times, in fact. We’d connected on Tinder and he just seemed so naturally kind and good natured that it didn’t take me very long at all to know that I’d like to meet up and see where things could go with him.

We first met up in a cafe. And we talked for hours about our jobs, our dogs. The end of our previous relationships. He was quick to smile and laugh and I love that in another person. He really listened when I talked and it just felt so easy to be around him.

He was tall, good looking and just incredibly sweet. He really left an impression on me and I remember thinking …I like him as a person, I could see myself hanging out with him. Talking about books, playing board games. Doing pretty much anything. When we say goodbye he gave me a hug and we went our separate ways.

But we met up soon after that for a walk around a local park with a big lake. I was hoping he was going to bring his dog and I think he was hoping the same about me but it was just the two of us. Despite him asking me to go on a hiking trip with him (which I couldn’t make) that felt perhaps on the borderline of being not platonic, everything between him and me had been platonic at this point.

We hadn’t talked about sex, we hadn’t talked about moving things further together into something where sex might be something we did together. Everything we said and did together was strictly above board. Very friendsy.

And I remember after the walk around the lake I started thinking … why do I not have any sexual thoughts about this man? He’s lovely! He’s nice! He’s very cute! He makes me laugh! I was really twisting myself about it, thinking he’s jumped through my demisexual hoops. We’re friends. We share things together, we’re vulnerable with each other, I feel comfortable with him. So why don’t I want to tear his clothes off? Why can’t I even picture myself taking his clothes off? Or even kissing him?

I started going through a list of dates I’d had previously. I starting thinking about other people I’d kissed, how I knew that I wanted to have sex with them. And I was looking for some kind of theme. Maybe it was something in their personality, something I picked up on? But cute, kind men who make me laugh are totally my type. On paper, I should be all over this man and I really struggled to know why there was just nothing between us.

And eventually I did sort of fall into the answer. I’d heard the term ‘reciprosexual’ perhaps six months earlier at a work diversity thing. I remember the name stood out as a term that I’d not heard before. Which sparked a curiosity. After thinking about it again I quickly looked up the definition of reciprosexual and my heart stopped reading it in the context of the situation with this man:

Reciprosexual is a sexual orientation on the asexual spectrum meaning someone who does not experience sexual attraction unless they know that the other person is sexually attracted to them first. 

I’ll tell you though. Even though when I read it and felt a pull towards truth I also felt a bit of annoyance. I didn’t want another thing. Another something that complicates matters, that stops things from being simpler. And it has taken awhile for me to really accept being reciprosexual. To accept that for me, sex and relationships are not simple.