I’m fat, queer, and asexual. Here’s a thirst trap.

Scruff is my app of choice. I’m bored at work so I open the app. There’s a message waiting for me.

Blank profile. No picture. This never ends well. I open the message.

hey you lookin this afternoon?

There’s a picture: a fit white guy, probably in his thirties, shirtless. He’s showing his face (an act of digital courage for what I assume is a “discreet” fellow) and flexing his abs. Stone cold face. Gotta project that masculinity. One arm curled up to show off “the guns.”

This this not the kind of guy that hits me up on Scruff. I don’t think I’m ugly or anything, but Flexy Abs Guy is not my usual demographic. I test really well among the dadbod bears and young guys with daddy complexes. I can be hit and miss with “guys who look like your history professor who’s trying too hard”, but Flexy Abs Guy serving butch face is unfamiliar territory.

not really looking today. you’re hot tho.

thx bud. Then he sends me a picture of his dick. Unlock?

Why not? I unlock. My private album has a few of my favorite thirst traps in it. Showing off the belly. Showing off the tattoos. Getting the light just right to really spotlight the baby blues. I don’t have any intention of actually meeting Flexy Abs Guy, but if I get a little positive male attention out of it…

There are worse things.

Nothing for a few moments.

thx. don’t usually like fat guys but i’m real horny today. i’ll let a fat guy suck my dick. you down?

It doesn’t take me long to know I am not, in fact, down. I’m a sex-favorable asexual. The chances of me being “down” aren’t good on the best days under ideal circumstances. Flexy Abs Guy hitting me hard with the fatphobia, then having the gumption to act like he’d be doing me a favor by letting me have sex with him ensures that I am so very, very not down.

did you even read my profile? I’m asexual. dude if i’m having sex today, it’s gonna be with someone who digs my body.

so you’re fat and asexual? kidding me. why are you even here?

***

I inhabit a fat, queer, asexual body. On the average, this experience isn’t easy. Each individual piece is complicated, navigating the obstacles they present in world that prizes bodies that are not fat, queer, or asexual. And each of those pieces complicates the others, amplifies their challenge. It’s one thing to be fat and trying to get with a guy, but if you’re fat and ace, that’s a bridge too far. You can be queer and ace, but if you think you’re going to be tolerated not wanting sex while being fat, you’ve got another thing coming. And if you have the audacity to be queer at the same time…

You can really only be two of them at a time. Add a third, and you’re fucking up the matrix.

On good days, I can move through the world with a decent bit of confidence. On bad days…

On bad days, let’s just say when it comes to living in the skin I’m in, I’d rather be somewhere else.

When Flexy Abs Guy asks why are you even here?, I know he just means the apps. But for me — fat, queer, asexual me — that question is an existential pit.

Why am I even here? I don’t fucking know.

I inhabit a body society tells me I should hate. I inhabit a body society tells others to reject, to ridicule, to dismiss, to erase. I inhabit a body that’s not supposed to be here.

Fat, queer and asexual people (separately or as a package deal) are told every day to be ashamed of their bodies. We are told, in no uncertain terms, that our bodies occupy space that shouldn’t belong to us. If we don’t adhere to the program, we should get the fuck out. Our uncooperative bodies render everything about us invalid, and if our bodies can’t play by the rules, nothing about us is allowed to exist.

That’s why I have thirst traps.

I inhabit a body that is fat, queer and asexual. And those things can be desired. Those things can be admired and appreciated. Those things can be lusted over. The possibility exists, even if the world won’t allow that to be spoken.

If the world won’t tell me those things about my body, I’ll tell myself those things.

So here’s a thirst trap. Here’s another. Each one builds up a little of what the world wants to erase. Here’s another. Fill in the spaces.

I inhabit a body I choose not to hate. I am fat. I am queer. I am asexual.

I am desirable.