For my entire life, people have questioned my sexuality. I spoke, or, maybe, speak with a lisp. I speak with my hands. I speak a lot. I don’t follow sports. Etcetera. I never questioned my sexual orientation. My first crush was Heather. I asked her out three times in sixth grade until I moved onto Sabrina.

As a kid, I was teased for my affectations, but I learned to dismiss the assumptions. I knew myself. Of course, I couldn’t deny feeling frustration and disappointment when potential love interests misread me.

This past summer, I did a dating tour of DC that tapered into nothing. I gradually lowered my bar to go on second dates where I felt no spark, but I struggled to find zeal for anyone in particular. I declined two potential hookups because I didn’t feel attracted to them. What was wrong with me? Was I repressed?