Gail Chord Schuler is Demisexual Polyamorous

Gab Share

I figured out who I was by tuning into my subconscious while listening to the music playlist that I made for Jesus. It made me realize that Jesus and I have such a deep emotional connection that I could never divorce Him from my life, and want to continue my “relationship” with him platonically, which would fit in real well with me as a demisexual any ways. In the meanwhile, me listening to my subconscious may be helping Jesus to find himself as well and I’ve come up with some possible solutions for him in his sex life.

This picture sort of captures my idea with Jesus holding the hands of his goddess wife and the church bride offering her up to him during the wedding ceremony. I don’t think Jesus wants to give up his church bride. He’s polyamorous. I don’t think he’s demisexual though.
Jesus Christ playlist 1
Jesus Christ playlist 2
Jesus Christ playlist 3

If Jesus doesn’t want to give up his church bride, he can marry her platonically and marry for REAL his goddess wife, in a sort of polyamorous marriage to both, except he will save his sex for his goddess wife.

I mean we never expected Jesus to have real sex with us as his church bride any ways.

I always wondered how he planned to make love to his church bride and now I know. His original plan definitely won’t work, but marrying his church bride in a platonic, asexual marriage would work, then he could also marry a goddess and get his sex needs met through the goddess. It would mean he is polyamorous sort of.

A monogamous goddess shouldn’t mind the church bride, since he is committed to the church bride in spiritual and friendship love and plans to save his sex for his goddess only.

I mean Jesus did die for his church bride, so this obviously means a lot to him. He doesn’t have to give that up with what I suggested.

While sex is important in marriage, there are some married people who don’t have sex, believe it or not.

Like if the marriage partner is really sick or can’t have sex for whatever reason.

A marriage doesn’t have to have sex, it just has to have true love to be valid in my opinion. It’s the demisexual in me that feels this way.

So Jesus can have his cake and eat it, too. He can marry his church bride and have real sex with his goddess wife. He would be poly amorous and married to his church bride and to his goddess at the same time.

He definitely needs to give up on the idea of making love to humans in ANY FORM. But I think he truly loves his church bride and that’s why he’s been so conflicted. He just needs to get rid of the idea of having sex with her and save his sex for his goddess wife.

What’s cool about this is he could rework the prophecies, so that when he marries his church bride, he also marries his goddess wife at the same time and then he would consummate the marriage with his goddess wife and consider that also a consummation to his church bride in type.

He would do all the duties of a husband to his church bride, except for the sex part.

He would get to enjoy companionship with his church bride and have all the privileges of marriage to her except the sex.

We humans have always considered Jesus too deity-like to have literal sex with us and never expected to have sex with Jesus any ways.

He should be able to rework most of the prophecies to be fulfilled very close to the original plan with this idea. He could even have a 1,000 year reign married to his church bride and his goddess wife at the same time.

And then if Satan gets right and we have to cancel the whole thing any ways, we will just have a big party and CELEBRATE.

But to have a 1,000 year reign, we’d need to get God the Father’s cooperation, cuz that won’t work unless Satan gets locked up. But maybe God the Father would be open to Jesus marrying his church bride in a PLATONIC marriage, while Jesus is also married to a goddess in a marriage for sex.

I also like this idea, because Jesus is so worried about losing face with his followers because God the Father canceled his prophecies and this should solve that problem.

If some of the prophecies don’t get fulfilled the way they should, Jesus could just explain that Biblical interpretations can always be off. LOL

I think I’m demisexual. I definitely need to establish an emotional bond before I feel sexual attraction and have been this way my whole life.

This is why six pack abs don’t do a thing for me and never have.

And this is why when a man serenades me with the right kind of music, he can make me find him sexually attractive.

I think I am a demisexual polyamorous person, but when I do get that emotional bond, I can experience orgasms and arousals.

If it’s true I am a demisexual, you can imagine how horrified I was over the fact that my men put 25,000 men on my marriage list and they all got mad at me when I said I didn’t want to have sex with them.

I thought everyone was like me! Especially women. So I guess I am a demisexual. I can’t recall a single time in my life when I felt sexual attraction towards a guy without an emotional connection first. I thought EVERY GIRL WAS LIKE ME. This may explain why I was able to be a virgin when I married David Schuler (who is a gay pedophile), despite being poly-amorous. Zack Knight thought I was lying when I said I didn’t find him sexually attractive before he came to our side, but it’s true. But when he emotionally connected with me, I sometimes found him sexually attractive. That didn’t happen till he started getting real with me after he came to our side. Despite this, I currently only desire sex with Brent Spiner right now.

As a polyamorous demisexual, I would like to have a platonic relationship with Jesus. I am still only interested in sex with Brent right now.

You see, Jesus and I have emotionally connected. When He had sex with me, he bared his heart to me like deep music, and so I would like to continue my relationship with him like deep music, but no sex.

He may have made me demisexual subconsciously, since he put a lot of Lakshmi in me. But He did emotionally connect with me while making love to me (and revealed some of his deep desires and dreams to me in lovemaking through a vision of sorts) and platonic is what I want with him. Jesus may be very lustful and passionate in sex, but he has big dreams and a beautiful heart. I would get real compersion happiness when he has sex with his true love goddess though.

Jesus may have subconsciously made me demisexual because he wanted his polyamorous sex dummy to be open to him but also to save herself for him at the same time.

This may seem hard to believe, but a lot of the sex I had with Jesus was more out of duty than a burning passion. I’m kind of relieved that I don’t have to give him sex anymore.

Interesting article. I do think I’ve found who I am as a sexual person: demisexual polyamorous. Because I’m demisexual, I thought I may have been monogamous, but I think I’m demisexual polyamorous. https://poly.land/2021/01/04/most-of-the-polyamorous-people-i-know-are-some-degree-of-demisexual/

I found this online and it describes very well how I feel as a demisexual:

When and how did you realize you were demisexual? by ANONYMOUS

When I was young, in elementary school, I started reading books beyond my age. I finished all of the Laura Ingalls Wilder series while in first grade. I read Little Women in third, along with Eight Cousins and Rose in Bloom. By fifth grade, I’d finished Pride and Prejudice and all of the L.M.Montgomery Anne novels. I loved them. I loved the love stories. I’d read them over and over, imagining my own Almanzo, my own Laurie, my own Mr. Darcy. I knew I’d find my own Gilbert.

While girls my age all through the years got silly and giggled over this boy or that, laughing “he’s cute!” and “he likes you!”, I’d generally notice just one boy, and I’d notice him for a long time. I’d like the way he laughed. I’d picture us as friends, though I was far too shy to ever talk to boys in general, much less the one I liked. I’d picture us joking and laughing, being good friends, maybe rivals, until the day when suddenly, he realized the girl (woman) he’d been looking for along was right here, me!

In junior high and high school, I never developed crushes the “right” way, it seemed. I’d start liking a boy because of something he did — something funny or kind or some interesting thing he’d said in class. Then it’d go from there — I’d like everything. I’d picture somehow us coming to a point where we talked about things I’d thought about but never said, dreams he’d had but never shared, and then … a kiss. I tended to like the same boy for years. When people kept talking about “He’s so hot — I’d sleep with him” in high school, I played along, but while I could objectively agree that this or that guy was attractive, I never felt that urge to sleep with him. I couldn’t even picture it. If I liked someone, I just kept imagining long romantic scenarios first. I never imagined a sex scene, I only kept envisioning a relationship. I thought maybe I was broken, or asexual.

I read smutty romance novels as did most girls my age, but when it came to sex scenes, I’d skip through them to get back to the relationships. I didn’t understand these glorified descriptions of sex. Even after I finally had sex myself, I didn’t get it.

In high school, I finally sparked a friendship with a guy I’d gone to grade school with, but who hadn’t really remembered me (no surprise there). We were friendly, then a little flirty, and finally, when we were good friends, I realized I was attracted to him. We dated for a very long time — years and years after high school, in fact. In all that time, I never liked anyone else, never felt attracted to anyone else. I took that to mean I was in love. Although we were friends and had a lot of things in common, there were a lot of red flags in our relationship. But because I felt like I was in love, I kept going with it. Sex was not really physically satisfying — at best, it wasn’t painful and was mildly stimulating, but I never actually orgasmed. Because I loved him though and didn’t want him to feel bad (I thought I was just physically defective), I did learn to fake one really, really well. In the nearly ten years we’d be together, he’d never know (or, to be honest, really seek to care or find out) that sex wasn’t really physically appealing to me.

I thought I was broken.

I still wanted sex and liked it – I liked the intimacy, I liked the feeling of power and of pleasing him. I really enjoyed that, and I got to be fairly good at it. But it never really had appeal to me as a physical act alone. My girlfriends gushed about their sexual conquests, they raved about this or that hot guy at the gym that they just couldn’t HELP picturing… etc. I never did.

I still could only fantasize about relationships. About being loved and held, kissed and wanted.

I thought I was broken. Even with my partner, who I felt like I loved, I always felt mostly self-conscious and judged. He didn’t help – he wasn’t the most flattering or even reassuring, and he wasn’t very perceptive and in tune with the physicality of it, and he never really went above and beyond to try to please me, but I still got most of my satisfaction from pleasing him and seeing his reactions.

That relationship, the long one, was ending, on its very last few legs, when I made a different friend. We started out talking innocently enough, about a mundane subject that we both just happened to be interested in. We talked at length. We talked for years about more and more subjects. We talked about my failing relationship and how heartbroken and confused I was. But we always kept a distance. It was strange to me, because I’m a very affectionate person in general and I like being close to people, but when he and I were together and not just chatting online or on the phone, I kept a distance. It was like there was a charge in the air and if I so much as brushed his hand, I’d be burned.

I was really confused.

But he was my closest friend, and in fact, was closer to me than my partner at the time. My partner was making it clear he was done with me, and as he was, I found that I no longer could stomach sex with him either. Our relationship was over.

But my friend … he was still there. Now, it was clear to me that what was between us was a stronger rapport than any I’d ever felt with someone else. The things I’d been blocking, consciously and subconsciously, came pouring over me. One afternoon, I was crying as we talked on a park bench, after the demise of my relationship, when he hesitantly put an arm around me, touching me for the first time ever in our years long friendship.

It snapped me right out of the moment of sadness, because with his arm around me, I suddenly, for the first time, felt truly, incredibly physically drawn to someone. I wanted to lean in right there and press my lips to his neck, to his jaw, to this incredibly tempting point below his neck where his shirt lay open slightly.

I was shocked.

Having spent the better part of three decades thinking I had no real sex drive, it was terrifying to discover that it was there.

I said nothing.

More months passed; I did not want to ruin this, the very best friendship I’d ever had over something unknown and frightening to me. For me, sex had always just been about intimacy, about pleasing my partner, and as someone who identifies as very empathetic, for feeling the pleasure of my partner which was what brought me the most satisfaction personally. To suddenly realize I was capable of physical want was terrifying.

For the first time, I knew what it meant to be aroused as a woman — not during or in the moments leading up to sex, but actually just standing, walking around, being near someone. I knew what it was to want someone.

I also knew that what I’d felt before in my last relationship wasn’t the full extent of the love I was capable of feeling. Because for this man, who’d become the one person in this world I could tell anything to without fear of rejection, who I could share anything I thought of and have it discussed without judgement … I felt real love.

Things progressed though, as they often will, and despite my awkward personality and terrible tendency to say exactly the wrong things, we’d had A Talk. We’d acknowledged feelings. Attraction. We both agreed that our friendship was the most important thing, and that if we did, indeed, venture further down the path than that, we’d both work our hardest to preserve the friendship … If.

And we did. I was reading a Quora answer here one day this past year and came across this term. I hadn’t ever heard it, but the moment I read it, I knew it suited me exactly. I was glad to realize I wasn’t broken.

More, I was glad when we finally did indeed have sex to find that I was not physically broken either. With some combination of his experience and the level of feelings I had, I found that every single time there was no need to fake. Everything was so intensely good that I suddenly understood the sex scenes in the romance novels I’d read in late teenagerhood.

Even now, as an adult, friends will sometimes share pictures they’ve gotten from men they’re dating, and I can’t understand the allure of the shirtless random stranger or, god forbid, the errant dick pic. Without context and a relationship, these things are blank for me.

But this certain man … all it takes is a glimpse of his smile, the five o’clock shadow along his jaw, and my pulse races. There’s a light in his eyes that when I catch, I actually now know what it means to feel it all the way through me. Arousal like this is new to me. When we’re together, I feel completely accepted, desired, and cared for in a way I have never felt, and in talking to him day to day, we could be discussing concrete mixers, but there’s a spark. Now, just seeing him from across a room, my pulse races and every sense heightens. Now I know what it’s like to desire someone upon sight.

It’s so very good.

I used to be jealous of friends who could have a casual relationship, a one night stand, and gain great sexual satisfaction from it. Could have fun. Sex like that just isn’t desirable to me, not even a little bit.

Now though, knowing what it can be like for me … it’s so intense, it satisfies me on every level … I’d never trade being what I am, loving like I do, for anything else.




Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.