One: the number of Google searches it took for me to go, "Oh my god. This is me. There's a word for it."

Two: the number of times I had to come out to my mom.

The first time, I thought I might be bi, or maybe gay. All I knew is that I maybe had a crush on a girl, now, and when I told my mom, she stood up and hugged me.

The second time, she said, "That's just how all girls are. You don't want sex until you really love someone."

Three: the number of siblings in most fairy tales I read as a child

and in most of them, the youngest would break the curse

and win the day

and get married

and have babies

and live happily ever after

My mother wants all this and more for me,

and more for her,

but I'm the middle child, so it probably won't happen

Four: the number of romantic or sexual partners I'd had by age twenty-five

and I'm not even sure one of them counts, since when I realized they were abusing me

they claimed the whole thing never happened, so anyway

in most cases I'm happy without a partner as with them,

and in that case even happier

Five: the number of syllables in demisexual

So sometimes I say demi

Or just leave it at ace

When I don't want to give an explanation

But even ace usually requires an explanation

And if I bring up aromanticism then I'm really screwed

Six: the number of letters in aroace, which Siri doesn't know how to pronounce.

She calls it ah-row-ah-chay.

Seven: The number of days in Ace Week.

Did you know that it's Ace Week?

I wish there didn't need to be an Ace Week

But there are fifty-one other weeks in the year that get to be Allo Week

So it's a semi-reasonable demand