I Didn’t Expect This Side of Her — But I’m Glad It Was There 

The Version of You I Thought I Knew

You probably know people like this, people who almost come across as asexual.

My former housemate from my student days was one of them. For the sake of this story, I’ll call her Emily.

Whenever we watched a movie together, and a sex scene came on, most of us were at least a little intrigued.

And her? She would immediately look away, usually at her phone, as if she had just received a message she had to check.

I’ve also seen her watch movies by herself. As soon as an explicit scene came on, she would automatically skip ahead.

No boyfriend either. In the four years I lived with her, she never had one, at least not that I ever noticed.

Not because she wasn’t attractive, quite the opposite. If she had wanted to, she could have easily found someone. Everyone could see that. But she didn’t want to.

And if someone in the house was audibly having sex at night? When it occasionally came up later, she had no reaction at all. No irritation, no joke. She remained completely stoic. As if it simply didn’t exist.

She came across as quite prudish. Anything even remotely sexual, she seemed to avoid automatically. Or at least, it didn’t seem to interest her.

As far as I knew, it had nothing to do with religion or a strict upbringing. I knew her brother a little too, and he had a girlfriend.

It was just how she was.

The Moment That Didn’t Fit

One day, after finishing her studies, Emily moved out. The move happened somewhat quickly, and her bed, wardrobe, and nightstand were still there. That might be useful for the next tenant, she suggested. Fair enough. If the landlord had a problem with it, we could always get rid of it for her.

She handed me the key to her room. The next day, when I walked in, I instinctively checked the closets. The wardrobe only contained some sheets, but the nightstand was still full of small items: nothing special, just things like cream, tissues, and a few clothing items.

Until I found something in the bottom drawer, carefully tucked away among the rest of her belongings, that didn’t fit the image I had of Emily at all. I remember looking at it for a moment, not immediately realizing what exactly felt off. Only that… it didn’t add up.

It was one of those moments where your brain needs a split second to adjust. As if you suddenly see someone from a different angle and the picture is no longer quite the same.

After blinking a few times, it really sank in:

A vibrator, a tube of lubricant, and an erotic novel.

We Think We Know People — We Don’t 

What stayed with me the most wasn’t even what I found.

It was how quickly it clashed with the image I had built of Emily over all that time.

I had already placed her in a box:

She was “not like that.”

She didn’t need that.

She was above that kind of thing.

In my head, I had even jokingly labeled her “the nun” of the house. At least, that’s what I thought.

But that’s how fast it happens. We look at how someone behaves, at what they show, and we form a complete image. The rest, we fill in ourselves.

As if someone who doesn’t join conversations about sex must not be interested in it.

As if someone who looks away during an explicit scene doesn’t feel desire.

As if silence equals absence.

But that says almost nothing.

Because desire doesn’t disappear just because you don’t show it. It’s simply not visible to the outside world.

And maybe that was the whole point:

It wasn’t that Emily didn’t have desire. She just never showed it.

The Reaction I Didn’t Expect From Myself 

I remember looking at it and finding it a bit strange at first.

But not long after, I thought: good for you!

Really.

We often assume people have just one version of themselves. One line you can follow, one character that behaves the same everywhere.

But that’s not how it works.

Apparently, she allowed herself something that no one ever saw or expected from her.

Something she kept entirely to herself.

And actually, it made perfect sense. Just… a side of her that was hers alone.

And maybe that’s more human than we tend to think.

We all have parts of ourselves that don’t match how we appear to others.

Things we consciously don’t share, simply because they’re not meant for everyone.

And for her, this was one of those things.

Not an absence of desire, but a desire that remained completely private.

And the more I thought about it, the less it felt strange or contradictory.

And the more it simply felt like:

“Of course. That makes sense too.”

What People Hide Is Often More Real Than What They Show

What ultimately stayed with me wasn’t even Emily herself.

It was what this situation triggered in me and how I look at people.

A lot of people are very good at acting like certain things don’t exist. They avoid sex, in the broadest sense of the word, in conversations.

They become uncomfortable when the topic gets too close.

And they act as if it’s something they’re above, or at the very least, something they have nothing to do with.

As if it’s not really part of their life.

But that’s often not true.

I sense that most people continue to feel sexual desire and fantasize about it.

People just have their own ways of dealing with it.

Some are quite open about it, while others reveal almost nothing.

And especially in that latter group, there’s often a gap between how someone presents themselves and what happens in private.

And that’s exactly the point:

Most people don’t have a problem with desire.

Showing it is something else entirely.

And maybe that makes sense. From a young age, we learn what is and isn’t “appropriate.” What you share and what you keep to yourself. What’s normal to say out loud and what is better left unspoken.

So we become good at it.

Not at making desire disappear, but at hiding it.

And maybe that’s why I kept thinking back to it later.

Because it’s so normal. Not because what I found in that drawer was anything special.

We’re not necessarily prudish.

We’ve just become very good at hiding it.

The Private Space Where It Still Exists 

And then there is one place where that hidden desire does find an outlet:

Masturbation.

Because if there’s one way to fully be your sexual self, it’s there. No judgment from others, no expectations.

Just you.

And through masturbation, desire can fully come into its own.

You can completely immerse yourself in your own fantasies. You decide when and how often. And you can take your time with it.

And maybe for some people, that’s exactly why it works so well:

because it remains entirely out of sight of others.

When people have a partner, it’s often assumed they’re having sex.

And people are sometimes curious about that. It comes up in conversation.

But when it comes to masturbation, even though it’s just as much a part of someone’s life, it remains remarkably quiet.

Even people who are quite open about sex won’t easily ask:

“Did you have a nice time masturbating this weekend?”

What Was Left Behind

I never asked Emily that question. After she moved out, I never heard from her again, and I didn’t reach out to her either. I also didn’t tell my housemates what I had found.

It all just went into a trash bag after I caught myself smiling for a moment because Emily turned out to be a little more human than I had made her in my head.

And with that thought, it was simply time for a new housemate.