How I Finally, Blissfully Realized I Was An Asexual Lesbian In My 60s, By Dori Hartley

If there is one regret that I have as a later-in-life lesbian, it’s that I didn’t pursue my love of women when I had an actual physical sex drive. 

I have lived my life as a heterosexual woman, and the funny thing was — I never really liked or related to the title. It was just what I did, because I believed that’s what my life was all about: doing what the world expected of me, meaning, being straight, having sex with dudes, getting married and having a kid.

So straight was I, that I hated sex with men. I mean hated it. Men were so pushy and annoying, not to mention their nonstop masturbating and penis photographing — jeesh, enough already. I never once felt like I was anything but a vision for them to masturbate to, or a hole for them to ram themselves into, while grunting.

It was as if I had to make it convenient for them to feel good about being so lazy and mechanical in bed. They always had that attitude as well, where they seemed to believe that women really wanted this — and I’m sure some did.

I was, however, not one of those women.

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