I don't like sex, but I still love to date. My dates rarely go anywhere, but I still think putting myself out there is worth it.

• I'm a homoromantic asexual, meaning I don't like sex but want a romantic partner of the same sex.
• When I date, people often show they don't understand asexuality or ask me inappropriate questions.

I went to an all-girls high school that was right across the street from an all-boys school. It seemed like every girl in my class was head over heels for these average-looking jocks. But I stood there and thought, why do they care?

For a while I thought I focused too much on my classes to care, but as time went on it became apparent that I simply wasn't interested in people that way. I had no desire to make out or hook up with anyone — the thought of that was unappealing. Nearly six years later, I'm still pretty much the same way.

I now identify as a homoromantic asexual. I don't go on many dates, but when I find a person I connect with — whether on a dating app or in person — I'll shoot my shot.

When I'm on dating apps, I'm looking for something specific

Asexuality falls on a spectrum including sex-positive, sex-neutral, and sex-repulsed. Lucky me, I fall toward the latter side, which means I have no interest in sex — none at all. However, I don't mind romance; I like holding hands, kissing on the cheek, and hearing or giving words of affirmation. I most enjoy all that with people of the same sex, making me homoromantic.

I plaster the fact that I'm asexual all over my dating profile and explain my interest in romantic relationships. But this drastically decreases the size of my dating pool. It's not every day I come across fellow homoromantic asexual people — or even one person who knows what that means. This is probably the most difficult part, because my preferences are very specific.

Being on the apps or on a date can sometimes feel less like dating and more like educating

When people read my profile, they often ask, "Why are you even on here?" or "Does that mean you're a plant?"

Surprisingly, I don't mind teaching people about asexuality. It's not a topic that's frequently represented in media, so it makes sense that people don't know what it is.

While it can be annoying to have to explain my identity, I'd rather them ask questions than blatantly insult me. I wish I could date without having to explain my sexuality every time, but at least I get to spread the word about asexuality to another person who didn't know about it.

I draw the line at unwarranted questions about my sex life

After going on a few dating apps, I realized that not everyone believes asexuality exists. I've noticed that some people take my identity and use it as a reflection of them. They often ask me if they aren't "good enough" or "attractive enough." I make it clear that that's not how it works and that my sexuality has nothing to do with them. Period.

But most worrisome is the number of people on a first date who've asked me about my masturbation habits.

The first time I was asked about this I couldn't believe my ears. Because I'm asexual, apparently all social norms go out the window. This leads to further questions about my apparently traumatic childhood and about whether I have something medically wrong with me, whether that's my brain chemistry or my hormones.

My dates usually don't go anywhere, but that doesn't mean they aren't worthwhile

I've been in only one serious relationship, which lasted six months.

My last relationship was probably my favorite and best one, even though it didn't last long.

We went on a few dates, and then we realized we were at different stages in our lives and had different needs in a partner. Instead of being upset about it — though it did sting at first — I developed a great friendship with my ex. It can be hard to make friends as an adult, so if dating can help bring new people into my life, I consider it a win.

Being asexual is hard, but I wouldn't have it any other way

There are days I wish I weren't asexual. That feeling was especially present when I was in high school because I really wanted to fit in with my classmates.

But as I've grown older, I've realized that being asexual is part of who I am, and that's a beautiful thing. Though I might not have a fruitful dating life, I feel like it's meaningful enough for me and those involved. I know it would be easier not to date or try to foster connections, and it sometimes feels like I'll never meet the right person who understands me fully. But I'd rather put myself out there and see what happens.