So for some context, I’m a pretty unattractive trans fem, I have issues with autism and adhd. I’ve recently just kinda came to realization I think I’m gonna be a loner for the rest of my existence, I don’t blame anyone cause I’m autistic I don’t pick up on jokes or social stuff. I get wrong ideas. I sleep 24/7 to try to sleep it off
That’s a very sensitive and personal topic but I’m glad you’re feeling good enough to have it shared online!
To me one of the thoughts which helps me cope with the lack of romantic affection is to remind myself that affection is not just romantic. One can find this feeling in his or her relationships with family and friends; no one is really alone on this world, there is always someone caring for us; whether he or she be a family member or a member of our social group, we do matter to someone. Even a pet can give affection, sometimes even more than humans.
Romantic love is not the only kind of love we can receive but all kinds of love need a bit of effort to flourish and develop, just like anything living on this pale blue dot if ours.
Keep on trying to feel better everyday that goes by and don’t be afraid to be open to people about yourself and how you feel, if you can. Little by little and with some exercise you’ll get better at this game we call life that we are all playing.
Best of luck for your future and a big virtual hug <3
Its just hard since my family is pretty small, and I feel like I don’t want to open up to people cause of RSD, if hurts.
Okay, I’m going out on a limb here, hoping to challenge gently some assumptions about romantic love. I’m a 68 year old lesbian, on my good days a “5” (out of 10) in terms of attractiveness, and have been in a committed relationship for 26 years. Romantic love may start with hearts, flowers, percolating hormones, and all the trimmings. It’s important to keep the flame alive with tokens. But mostly, it’s a Disney illusion.
But my image of true love is a photo I took of my parents before they died, around the 68-year mark of their marriage. He’s pushing a rollator down the hall of their independent living center, probably muttering about hip pain. She’s clinging to the rollator, too proud to admit she could stand to use one too. They’re both hunched over, hobbling. Mom almost didn’t go on a second date with dad, because when they rode home together from their first date on the NYC subway, they got to her stop and he said “so long, it’s been real, see ya!” No goodnight kiss, no handshake, didn’t even get off the blippin’ train to make sure she got to her apartment safely. (I always suspected the man was autism spectrum.)
They made it as a couple because they gave each other a chance. I made it because despite my partner’s mental health melt-downs, I had promised to see the good in her. Not the pretty. Turns out it wasn’t mental health—it was the beginning symptoms of early onset Alzheimer’s. She’s now in what I call the Roach Motel nursing home, where I hate going because of the institutional indifference. But I keep going. Because I love her.
If you sleep 24/7, and don’t go out into the world, you won’t have the opportunity to meet anyone, find friends, see if there are any sparks that lead to more. Give serendipity a chance—my partner and I met at a local food coop, when the cook in the little restaurant there said to each of us “have I got a girl for you!” Each of us was volunteering (back in the day when coops had volunteers) in the kitchen, because we were two of the few people whom the head cook could tolerate.
Big hugs from another virtual stranger!