My favorite podcast is playing as I clean my room, a comedy podcast that distracts me from the endless mess I’m trying to work my way through. Above me, a cockatiel is happily chirping and tossing empty seed casings at me. It’s time for me to take a break, so I stop the podcast and go next door to a room currently functioning as Loud Bird Prison.
The first time I heard the word asexual it was an insult; someone who wouldn’t let a guy hit on them, someone who was a shut in. That was a few years before my best friend, while driving me from campus to their house, told me I might be asexual. I didn’t know what they meant, nor how to respond, so all I said was the word, "What?"