“At the forefront of the Asexual visibility movement is British Model Yasmin Benoit, who you’ve most likely seen online looking incredible whilst making ace-history. As the creator of #ThisIsWhatAsexualLooksLike, their work often brings light to many asexual misconceptions and shows you that being Asexual doesn’t look just one way. To celebrate Asexual Awareness Week, Yasmin has made history by collaborating with Playful Promises to create the first-ever Asexual theme lingerie campaign!” - Unite UK
What is a common misconception about asexuality that you wish to debunk?
A common misconception that I try to challenge when incorporating activism into my modelling is this pervasive idea that there’s an asexual way to look or dress. It’s a message I’ve received ever since I started being more open about my asexuality - people would say that I ‘didn’t look asexual.’ Because I was a young Black girl, because people thought I looked nice, because I put some effort into my appearance.
There’s this belief that if you’re not sexually attracted to anyone, then it’s either because you’re sexually unattractive and no one would want you, or you should make yourself sexually unattractive, as not to attract any kind of attention. It can be quite a dangerous mentality, because it means that asexual people looking attractive is somehow extra provocative and trigger more aggression in others. This strange, frumpy asexual stereotype can make asexual people feel like they can’t experiment with fashion and express themselves through it the same way as everyone else can. I don’t think your sexual orientation needs to determine the way you dress.
What is the significance of having an asexual lingerie model?
Lingerie is associated with sexuality, it’s seen as being a sex-positive thing and it’s associated with embracing your sexuality. It’s also associated with feeling sexy for other people. I think having an openly asexual model who loves lingerie, but not for sexual reasons, shows the many ways that you can appreciate these kinds of designs. It also includes asexuality within a sex-positive space, which I think is really important, as we’re often left out of those because of the assumption that we have no sexuality, no sexual interests, or that we’re inherently anti-sex.
It’s also really significant for me personally, because queer people - particularly queer racial minorities - are taught to dim parts of ourselves to stay palatable, employable and avoid stigma in our respective industry. Being openly asexual isn’t necessarily going to please everyone or make them want to work with you, it can have the opposite effect. To have the chance to to blend the theme of the asexual flag into the photo shoot for a well-established lingerie brand is amazing. I haven’t seen a lingerie brand ever do that before, so it’s great to be part of a historical moment. I hope it makes other asexual people feel seen and empowered.
How does lingerie help you express yourself?
I’ve always had quite an unusual style, I don’t like limiting myself to anything. Growing up interested in alternative and gothic subculture, I always saw things like corsets, stockings, big boots and things like that as being integral parts of a cool outfit. I also used to be really into video games and professional wrestling, where the women were always wearing something very akin to lingerie and kicking ass doing it. I guess it made me associate those looks with being powerful, and it was something I wanted to incorporate into my own style. So when I wear it, I feel like I’m channelling that energy. Lingerie is the closest thing you can get to a straight-up superhero outfit without going full Comic-Con. Unfortunately, you can’t walk around every day in lingerie but photo shoots give me the opportunity to experiment with it and feel like I’m capable of back-flip-karate-kicking a giant man out of an arena.
What advice would you give to someone who identifies as asexual and is yet to “come out”?
Other people’s reactions to you aren’t a reflection of you, it’s a reflection of what they don’t know. There’s a chance that people will completely get it and accept it right away, and there’s a chance that they won’t do that, but the latter doesn’t mean that it’s hopeless. It takes some people a while to understand. I also recommend that asexual people yet to come out prepare themselves for doing it often, as it isn’t the kind of thing you just have to do once. It can be helpful to have some resources you relate to on hand, as people sometimes understand and accept asexuality more when they can see that it’s a genuine sexual orientation that other people experience, not just a random word you heard on Tumblr one time. Finally, it’s important to know that coming out isn’t essential. You don’t have to share the intricacies of your sexuality with anyone, not everyone is entitled to that information. If you don’t want to use a label or tell people about it, or if you just want to keep it on a need-to-know basis, that’s your right too.
How do you wish asexual people were more included in events such as Pride?
For me, it isn’t just about including ace flags in the corporate side of Pride, it’s expanding our idea of what Pride is and how the asexual experience relates to it. Asexual people have always been part of Pride, we might not have experienced the same systemic oppression as other identities, but we have the similar experience of having a pathologised, stigmatised identity which has lead to us being taught that there’s something inherently wrong with us. It’s something we have to unlearn and Pride is all about embracing the parts of your sexuality that our society has taught us to be ashamed of. I wish that we could expand our understand of queerness outside of who wants to have sex with who and how. That way, there would be less debate about asexual inclusion and it’d happen organically, and people would put the same effort into representing the asexual community as all the others. Personally, I’d love to be able to do what I did in 2019 when I opened the first asexual bar at London Pride without our inclusion sparking questionable think-pieces about whether or not we should be allowed to be there.
Where do you want to see the Ace community in five years time?
I just hope that we get out of this weird groundhog day that we’ve been in for like…twenty years. Sometimes it feels like we’re making progress, and we are, but at a much slower pace compared to other identities. The way we discuss sexuality has expanded a lot but it hasn’t become very inclusive of asexuality yet. The kind of questions that I get as an activist now are strikingly similar to those I saw asexual activists getting in the early 2000s. We’re still in a 101 introductory stage as if this orientation is some kind of new fad. I hope that in five years time, we’re way past that and asexuality is more normalised. Then we can get into more interesting conversations and incorporate asexuality into how we understand sexuality in general, which will surely benefit everyone.
I was 10 years old when I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me. I realised I was asexual around the same time as my peers realised they weren’t. In late primary school, the boys and girls didn’t want to play together anymore - they ‘fancied’ and wanted to 'go out’ with each other. I watched girls fighting over boy drama in the cafeteria and wondered what had gotten into everyone.
That’s when I decided I’d attend an all girls’ school under the naive belief that, in the absence of boys, none of the girls would care about sex or dating. I quickly discovered that a same-sex environment had the opposite effect.
By the time I was a teenager, my peers started to wonder what was wrong with me. The sexual frustration was turned up to 100, which made it all the more obvious that I wasn’t reacting the same way as the other teens. While their sexuality was directed towards any nearby boy, a poster of a boy, or even each other, mine wasn’t directed anywhere. And other people wanted to work out why that was more than I did.
Before believing that it was just my innate sexuality, it was easier to assume that I was gay and in denial. Maybe I was molested as a kid and I’d forgotten about it, but been left with psychological scars. I could be hiding a hidden perversion – my dad asked me whether I was into inanimate objects or children when I told him that I wasn’t attracted to men or women. I might be a psychopath, unable to empathise with people enough to deem them attractive. The theory that held the most weight was that I was 'mentally stunted’, and I was treated as such. I started to wonder if they were right.
At 15, I learned the word asexual. It was during yet another analysis session of my sexuality at school. I described myself as not being attracted to men or women for the thousandth time, and someone suggested I might be “asexual or something.” With a quick Google search, I realised I wasn’t alone. Asexuality is a term used to describe those who experience a lack of sexual attraction and/or low levels of sexual desire towards others.
It wasn’t a mental or physical disorder, or a personality flaw, or anything related to my appearance or my life experiences. It wasn’t the same as being celibate, or anti-sex, or just being a ‘late bloomer.’ It was a legitimate sexual orientation characterised purely by a lack of sexual attraction or desire, meaning that it had no implications on whether an asexual could masturbate, or actually enjoy sex, or have children, or be in a romantic relationship. There were no limitations, just a way to bring a lot of people under one united umbrella.
I had finally found an answer to everyone’s question… only, no one else knew what the hell I was talking about. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop them from spewing the same ignorant views I had been hearing for years.
To an extent, I can’t blame them. It’s been almost 10 years since I discovered the term and it is barely part of public consciousness. It isn’t included in sex education or any conversations about sexuality. We’re left out of policies, pathologised in psychiatry and there is next-to-no representation for asexual people in the media. You can count positive examples on one hand. Most of the time, asexuality is either a fleeting reference, the butt of a joke, or a trait in a character that’s either an alien, robotic, or evil – a manifestation of their lack of empathy. Think your Sheldon Cooper, your Data from Star Trek, your Lord Voldemort.
Especially for women, it’s seen as a symptom of their prudishness, unattractiveness or overall blandness, which needs to be resolved by the end of the plot so they can be complete, appealing, lovable people. After all, being virginal is a good thing, perpetual sexual unavailability is not, particularly when you need a loving sexual relationship to be whole. Even our non-fiction portrayals tend to conform to stereotypes and perpetuate a ‘woe is them’ narrative. And among all of these things, they’re probably white, occasionally East Asian, but never Black. Black people are hypersexualised to the point where that would become contradictory and confusing for the audience. And that’s what I would end up being.
When I first mentioned on social media that I was asexual, I had no intention of becoming a voice for the asexual community. It seemed too unlikely to contemplate. After all, I was a Black gothic student from Berkshire who got sat on at school because I was that invisible. On top of that, my work as an alternative lingerie model meant I was far from the girl/boy-next-door like the asexual activists who had come before me. But, apparently, that’s what the community wanted. From there, my activism took off.
I quickly found myself becoming one of the community’s most prominent - but unlikely - faces. I used my platform to raise awareness for asexuality, empower asexual people, dispel misconceptions and promote our inclusion in spaces we’ve traditionally been left out of. From incorporating asexuality into lingerie campaigns, speaking at government institutions, being the first openly asexual person to appear on LGBTQ+magazine covers, and opening asexual spaces, my work has been intersectional if not a little controversial.
I had never experienced hatred online like I have since speaking openly about asexuality. Only through my work did I become aware of acephobia and the exclusionary discourse surrounding what at first seems like an inoffensive and discreet orientation. It’s shown me how important asexuality activism is, and it’s made me aware of just how diverse, powerful and unique the asexual community is. How they stand up for the rights of others even when we’re ignored ourselves, how they’ll never let their invisibility stop them from developing their own unique culture, history, and progressive understanding of human sexuality and love.
This week is Asexual Awareness Week, an occasion founded by Sara Beth Brooks a decade ago. It’s one of the few times in the year that the community demands to be seen and people start looking.
For Asexuality Awareness Week, model Yasmin Benoit answers the question ‘what is asexuality’, and busts some common myths about what it means to be asexual.
I realized I was asexual around the same time my peers seemed to realize that they were not. Once the hormones kicked in, so did a nearly universal interest in sex for those around me. I thought sex was intriguing, but never so much that I wanted to express my sexuality with someone else. I had no sexual desire towards other people, I did not experience sexual attraction, and that hasn’t changed.
I didn’t learn that there was a word for my sexuality until I was 15, after being interrogated for the millionth time at school about my orientation, or lack of it. After doing some Googling as soon as I got home, I realized for the first time in my life that I might not be broken, that I wasn’t alone in my experience, and that it wasn’t a defect I had somehow brought on myself. I had spent the entirety of my adolescent life trying to answer people’s invasive questions without having the language to explain that I was just an asexual girl.
But even after I found the language, I had only solved half of the problem. We are taught in grade school that we’ll become sexually interested in others, but never that not being sexually attracted to anyone is an option. Because we’re not taught about it, no one else knew what I was talking about when I tried to come out to them as asexual.
Many don’t believe asexuality is real, and that makes the experience of navigating our heteronormative, hyper-sexualized society as an asexual person even harder. I’ve spent my life battling misconceptions about it and so have many other asexual people. Now, I try to use my work as a model and activist to raise awareness and change the way our society perceives asexuality and asexual people. This Asexual Awareness Week, I’m busting some of those myths about my orientation.
Now, let’s separate fact from fiction:
Myth: Asexual people have no sexuality ✘
Truth: Asexuality is considered a sexuality, just like bisexuality, heterosexuality, and homosexuality. I often phrase it as being a sexual orientation where your sexuality isn’t oriented anywhere—because it isn’t actually the same as having no sexuality or sexual feelings. Asexual people have hormones like everyone else. It isn’t uncommon for asexual people to masturbate and there are asexual people who still have sex for various reasons and gain enjoyment from it. Some asexual people are romantically attracted to others, but not sexually attracted. Since asexuality is a spectrum, the ways in which asexuality is experienced can vary in different ways.
Myth: Asexuality is a lifestyle choice ✘
Truth: This misconception stems from the idea that asexuality is a choice and not a legitimate sexual orientation. Asexuality is often confused with celibacy or abstinence, probably because they can manifest in similar ways. In contemporary society, celibacy is often defined as being sexually abstinent, often for religious reasons. Sure, for many asexual people, their asexuality means that they aren’t interested in having sex with other people, but that’s a result of their orientation—not their beliefs about sexual behavior. Celibacy is a lifestyle choice, asexuality is not. Asexuality also shouldn’t be confused with being an incel. People don’t decide to become asexual because they can’t find sexual partners or because of any other circumstances. It isn’t a state of being when you’re going through a “dry spell,” nor is it a choice any more than being gay or straight is a choice. It’s just the way we are.\
Myth: Asexuality is an illness ✘
Truth: The assertion that asexuality is a mental or physical disorder is incredibly harmful to asexual people and has led to false diagnoses, unnecessary medication, and attempts at converting asexual people. For example, Female Sexual Interest/Arousal Disorder and Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder — which are characterized by low or absent sex drive — are in the DSM-5 and have been thought of as a medical diagnosis for asexuality. But the difference is that people who have HSDD are bothered by their lack of sexual drive, while asexual people are not. But even the inclusion of HSDD as a diagnosis is controversial — some argue that people who are asexual might feel distress at their lack of sexual desire because of lack of acceptance in society. Asexuality is not the result of a hormone deficiency, or a syndrome, or a physical or psychological ailment. Research has said as much. We don’t need to be treated or fixed.
Myth: Asexual people have anti-sex attitudes ✘
Truth: There are asexual people who are repulsed by the thought of sex, or by the thought of having sex themselves. I fall into the latter category. However, that feeling does not necessarily extend to what other people are doing. The misconception that asexual people are against other people expressing their sexuality, and that all asexual people can’t stomach conversations about sex, is quite an alienating one. It leads to asexual people being left out of important discussions about sexuality. It is entirely possible and incredibly common to have sex-positive attitudes and be asexual.
Myth: There are barely any asexual people ✘
Truth: Don’t let our lack of visibility and representation fool you. There are a lot of asexual people out there, but many of us aren’t entirely out, and some haven’t realized that there’s a word for what they’re experiencing due to that lack of visibility. While research into the asexual population is lacking, its estimated that around 1% of the population is asexual—but that’s based on a studies where the participants have likely known what asexuality was and been out enough to identify that way. It’s likely there are more asexual people than we know of, but even if we did only comprise 1% of the population, that’s still tens of millions of asexual people.
Myth: Asexual people just haven’t found the right person yet ✘
Truth: The idea that asexual people just need to meet the ‘right person’ who will unlock their sexual desire and ‘fix’ their asexuality is one I’ve always found quite perplexing. It’s an argument that seems to be applied to asexuality more than other orientations. You wouldn’t tell a straight guy that they just “hadn’t met the right man yet" as an explanation of why he’s attracted to women. I’d like to think that most wouldn’t tell a gay man that they “hadn’t met the right woman yet” either. It suggests that our sexuality is reflective of our company, that no one we have ever seen or encountered has met our standards, and thus we haven’t experienced sexual attraction to the extent that the term ‘asexual’ could be applied.
This assumption ignores and invalidates all of the asexual people who have found the ‘right’ person—the asexual people in happy, fulfilling, loving relationships or who have had them in the past. Because, yes, asexual people can still have romantic relationships, or any other kind of relationship. The validity of a relationship is not and should not be based on how sexually attracted you are to that person. This statement also plays into the notion that asexual people are “missing out” on something and haven’t truly discovered our entire selves, that we are incomplete because of our innate characteristics or our life experiences. This isn’t true either.\
Myth: There’s an asexual demographic ✘
Truth: Even though most people don’t know much about asexuality, they still have quite a specific idea about what asexual people are like. I’ve often heard that, as a black woman and a model, I don’t look or seem asexual. We’re stereotyped as being awkward white kids who spend too much time on social media and probably aren’t attractive enough to find a sexual partner if we wanted to. And if we are attractive enough, then we should tone that down as not to ‘give mixed signals.’ But there is no asexual way to look or dress. Asexual people have varying ages, backgrounds, interests, appearances, and experiences, just like those belonging to any other sexual orientation. So please don’t use the term “asexual” as an adjective to describe someone you think is sexually unappealing or as an insult, because that’s only perpetuating this harmful stereotype.
In celebration of #AsexualAwarenessWeek, I’m doing an #AskMeAnything with the anti-bullying charity @ditchthelabel!
So if there’s anything you’ve ever wanted to know, now’s your chance to ask! Send in your anonymous questions using the link below, and I’ll answer them all this Thursday!
To all acespec knights, this week belongs to you! I want you to know that you deserve to take space, to be recognized, and you deserve to be seen. This week is the ideal time to remember that asexuality is a valid and wonderful part of our world - shout it loud and clear! And, above all, stay proud ⚔️
In aid of Asexual Awareness Week, I’ve decided to make a post about autochorissexualityand just what it is.
The term ‘autochoris’ was coined by Anthony Bogaert, and essentially translates to ‘identity-less sexuality’. It is a sub-section of asexuality, which he describes as:
A disconnection between oneself and the object of arousal; may involve sexual fantasies or arousal in response to erotica or pornography, but lacking any desire to be a participant in the activities therein.
Essentially, we like the idea of sex, and/or enjoy reading/writing/watching sexual content, but don’t actually experience attraction or want to have sex with anybody.
You might be autochorissexual if:
You get aroused by sexual content but don’t actually want to engage in any sexual activities yourself.
You masturbate, but are neutral or repulsed by the idea of having sex with another person.
When you fantasize about sex, you envision people other than yourself, and/or you view it in third person, as though you’re watching it on TV, rather than imagining it in first person, through your own eyes.
You predominantly or entirely fantasize about fictional characters or celebrities, rather than people you actually know.
You identify as asexual and feel no sexual attraction to people, but enjoy masturbating, are aroused by sexually explicit content, and/or have sexual fantasies.
This isn’t an exhaustive checklist, and ultimately nobody can give you a label but yourself. But hopefully this post has brought you a little closer to understanding autochorissexuality, whether you are asexual, grey/demi, questioning, confused, or just wanting to raise awareness.
Here are some further resources if you want to learn more:
If you’ve found this post informative, please signal boost to help raise awareness and understanding about all the different aspects and subsections of asexuality!
for asexual awareness week i will share an interaction i just had today with my new doctor.
Dr: when was your last std screening
Me: never
Dr: are you sexually active?
Me: no
Dr:… ok i guess we can schedual that when you… get married?
Me, trying really hard to hold it together: k
I guess i could have explained it but it was funnier to watch her try to think of reasons why a 20-something isn’t sexually active. no hate tho she was very nice.
Can some wonderful ace/aro person please clarify to me that asexual means not feeling sexual attraction but it’s perfectly valid to be ace and also occasionally want to engage in sexual behaviours? Because that’s the only thing stopping me from realising I’m asexual
Disclaimer that you’re valid af if you’re sex repulsed or not and I love you
Hey y’all, with Asexual Awareness Week coming up (Oct 21-27th this year) here are a few things to remember!
•Asexuals are part of the LGBTQ+ community
• Asexuality is real
•Aces can choose not to celebrate/participate in any way
• Aces have every right to be proud of their identity
•Aces are lgbt+ regardless of their romantic orientation.
• Aces aren’t “basically straight” or any other complaint exclusionists have
•Asexuality is an orientation just like any other as well as a spectrum
• Greysexuals, Demisexuals, Cupiosexual, etc are all valid and also have a right to celebrate this week
•Ace Men exist
• Nonbinary Aces exist
•Not every Ace is Cis
• Exclusionists/Gatekeepers/etc are not welcome here
•AroAces exist
• Ace WLW exist
•Ace MLM exist
• Ace nblnb / nblm / nblw exist
•Poc Aces exist
• Disabled Aces exist
•Mentally ill Aces exist
• There are Aces of many different races/genders/ages/religions/etc
•Whether you’re an Ace still struggling with their orientation or an Ace who’s proud, or any other type of Ace, Asexual Awareness Week is for you and you’re valid regardless.
It’s the last day of Ace Awareness Week! Below is a roundup of my posts in the past week, along with resources and sites that I’ve found particularly helpful.
“You deserve someone who wants to have sex with you,” I tell him when we break up. “But I want you,” he replies. “I don’t want to compromise anymore,” I sigh. “But I love you,” he counters. “Yeah,” I say.
“We broke up because I really didn’t want to do…sex stuff…” I admit to my friend. “Oh,” he says, “but that’s expected in a relationship. The guy needs it.” “Yeah,” I say.
“Stick with me here, I’m going to use tumblr words”, I write to my friend. I tell him about “asexuality” and “aromanticism” and how they resonate with me. I type,
I’m kind of floundering on being like “Yes! I found my community!” vs worrying that I’ve compartmentalized and locked away something that’s integral to the human experience
Maybe you’ll experience sexual attraction one day, he tells me. “I wouldn’t self identify with tumblr folks…….” he writes, “you are not nearly as old as me.” “Yeah,” I say.
“I think I’m asexual,” I tell my friend. She’s skeptical. I spend the next half hour explaining the difference between romantic and sexual attraction. “I guess I kind of understand,” she finally says, “but maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.” “Yeah,” I say.
“I…I’m kind of asexual,” I stammer out to the boy I like. He accepts it. He surprisingly knows about cake.
“I’m conflicted,” I later admit. “I still feel like sex is something that I should like, or that I’m missing out on something important – something part of the human experience.” “But what’s ‘the human experience’?” he asks. “Yeah,” I say.
My friend and I are talking about relationships. “I have a bit of a different view on relationships because I’m asexual,” I slip in. “Oh, cool,” he says, and the conversation continues as before. “Yeah,” I say.
“I hate compulsory sexuality,” I tell my friend as we rant about the things we dislike about society, “because it took me so long to realize that I’m asexual and be okay with not wanting to have sex.” “That’s really crappy. I never realized how pervasive it is, ” she commiserates. “Yeah,” I say.
I’m on the phone with my mom. “If you’ve read stuff on my blog, you know I talk about asexuality…because I’m asexual,” I tell her. I answer her questions about it. “Are you okay with it?” she asks. “What do you mean?” I say. She explains, “You know, sometimes when people are different, they feel bad about it and wish they could change. Are you okay with being asexual?” “Oh,” I say. “Yeah. Definitely.”
In the first grade, my teacher asked us all what we wanted to be when we grew up. I don’t remember what I answered – dancer, probably, or pianist. One girl replied, “A mom.” The teacher beamed. The girl beamed. The entire class was awash in admiration and jealousy that she had arrived at the “best” answer. I simmered in envy and confusion because I wouldn’t have thought of that answer given a million years.
At Chinese summer camp, there was one girl who I thought was the coolest. I was too shy to talk to her. In dance class, we had to line up in height order; I tried to make myself shorter so I would be next to her. She hated dance class so I pretended to hate it, too. I’m frowning in all of the pictures my parents took of the final camp performance.
My church had a youth group sex education retreat for teenagers. They taught abstinence until marriage. We did exercises where one of us would ask another in the circle, “Would you like to have sex with me?” and they would reply, “No, thanks.” I found it amusing. They didn’t teach us that sometimes people don’t ask nicely.
I wasn’t interested in relationships in high school. I never really talked about crushes with my friends or parents. One day, my mom told me that if I was gay, she still loved me. I appreciated it, but I told her that I was not. I had thought about it, and didn’t want to have sex with anyone of my same gender. I didn’t want to have sex with anyone at all. I supposed that meant I was straight.
My first relationship began in college. I had started hanging out with this guy more and more, and we had become good friends in a short amount of time. He asked me to be his girlfriend. I said yes because I thought having a boyfriend meant having a best friend of the opposite gender.
I first encountered the concept of asexuality while watching House. There was an asexual couple who came into the hospital, and House bet Wilson that he could find a medical reason why they weren’t having sex. He did. The man had a pituitary tumor. The woman wasn’t asexual, either. She had been pretending for her partner, and was glad at the prospect of sex. She said, “A girl has needs.” I thought that maybe I should try harder to get in touch with my “needs”.
We broke up over sex. Sex and traveling. I hate both.
I started taking an ASL class at work, and along with that came surprisingly personal questions like “Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? A husband/wife?”, “Do you want to get married in the future?”, and “Do you want children?” I had no idea how to answer those in English, let alone sign language.
I thought about my past relationship and how I was so relieved when it ended. I thought about the types of relationships I wanted to be in. I ended up googling things like “Is it okay to not want to have sex?” and “Is it wrong to not want sex?” I ended up relearning about asexuality. I was so confused by all the new terminology – I didn’t even know what “sexual attraction” meant or felt like.
I came across the three-part series, Possible Signs of Asexuality, and kept reading it over and over again because I couldn’t believe that other people felt the same way that I did. I devoured other aces’ stories online. They weren’t broken, so…I wasn’t broken? It took me a while to accept that.
The agony and ecstasy of mixed allo/ace romantic relationships (or rather, romantic relationships in general).
Sex Is Not Love
At least, not for most asexuals. And not for many allosexuals, either.
Not being sexually attracted to their partners doesn’t mean aces love them any less. Not wanting sexual intimacy doesn’t mean aces love their partners any less. Not wanting to have sex doesn’t mean aces can’t love.
Compromise?
Compromise is part of any relationship, romantic or otherwise. Maybe you listen through that song you dislike because it’s your best friend’s favorite. Maybe you do the laundry and your significant other does the dishes even though you both hate doing either, but you hate doing laundry slightly less. Maybe your partner watches a show they find boring with you because you find it endlessly amusing. In mixed relationships, sexual intimacy may be one of the biggest compromises.
Some asexuals choose to have sex. Some allosexuals choose not to have sex. In my opinion, the latter happens much too infrequently, mostly due to internalized compulsory sexuality and the notion that allosexuals need to have sex. Asexuals – especially sex-repulsed, sex-averse, and sex-indifferent aces – need to be honest about how much sexual intimacy they can give; allosexuals need to be honest about how much sexual intimacy they require.
When I talk about compromise, I’m talking about the definition that means “finding a happy medium”, with emphasis on the “happy” part. I don’t think some allosexual people realize how important it is for some aces not to have sex, and it’s hard for aces to admit because the notion that sex is enjoyable or required has been told to us again and again. As someone who vacillates between being sex-repulsed and sex-indifferent and who “compromised” in a previous relationship, it wasn’t even how terrible sex itself was for me – it’s how soul-crushing it was to have to smile and fake being “sexy” when my partner expected me to look like I was enjoying myself. That type of compromise isn’t what I’m advocating. It can be hard for allosexual people to admit how much they need sex, too, because there’s another notion that a good relationship requires sacrifice, and that breaking up over sex is petty. It’s not. Different people require different kinds of intimacy, and sexual intimacy is very important for some people. That’s not wrong or bad. The bottom line is, if you can’t reach a happy medium, it’s not a good compromise at all.
Communicate your needs honestly, and value yourself and your partner greater than the relationship itself. The end of a romantic relationship doesn’t mean that it was a failure. And if you decide to stay together and compromise on sexual intimacy, you need to make sure both you and your partner are happy and okay with the boundaries that are set.
Consent
Consent is really important to understand. Even if you’re in a romantic relationship, you don’t owe your partner sex and vice versa. Even if you come to a compromise where you and your partner are sexually intimate, you can always say no. They can always say no. And at that point, nothing should happen. Consent cannot be given in advance – consent must be asked for each time. Asexual people can give enthusiastic consent. Don’t settle for anything less.
Open Relationships and Polyamory
Sometimes an open relationship where each partner is free to explore other relationships works best. Sometimes one or both partners are polyamorous and are able to fulfill various needs and desires with their other partners. Often, it’s valuable for the allosexual to have their sexual needs met by someone else, which takes the pressure for sex off their asexual partner. Monogamous, romantic relationships are often seen as the be-all and end-all, but hey, why not buck compulsory monogamy while we’re bucking compulsory sexuality?
In my post yesterday on being an ally, I mentioned that it’s important for allies to educate themselves for the benefit of aces. Today I want to talk about how learning about asexuality and aromanticism also benefits allosexuals!
Asexuality prompts us to think about relationships outside cultural norms. Society tells us that sex and love are intertwined; romantic relationships can’t exist without sex. For people who don’t experience sexual attraction, though, sex and love are decoupled. And aromanticism undermines society’s relationship hierarchy even further. The notion of a “romantic ideal”, or one relationship that is held above all others, is questioned. Challenging the concept that sexual and romantic relationships should be valued more than all others can be liberating for asexual, allosexual, aromantic, and alloromantic people alike.
If we stop defining our significant relationships only as those that are romantic or sexual, being single will take on a whole new meaning. If we broaden our emotional focus from the person we share bodily fluids with to the sum of our friendships, acquaintances, and colleagues, our communities will grow stronger. If we stop treating penetrative sex as the be all and end all of physical intimacy, we will experience greater heights of pleasure. And if we can accept that although sex can be ecstatic and affirming and fulfilling, it is not all those things to all people all of the time, we will relieve it of some of its cultural baggage.
Asexuality and aromanticism also lead to questions about what sexual or romantic attraction is in the first place. The asexual community has a plethora of words to describe different types of attraction, relationships, and orientations. This terminology becomes a powerful tool in self-introspection that can be used by both asexual and allosexual people.
Attraction
What does sexual attraction feel like for you? What does romantic attraction feel like? Aesthetic attraction? Sensual, emotional, or intellectual attraction? For most people on the ace spectrum, it makes sense to differentiate between sexual and romantic attraction because they only feel one or none. For some allosexual people, sexual and romantic attraction don’t feel differentiable.
It’s useful to think about what types of attraction you feel because they often correlate with expectations of intimacy. If you feel like sexual and romantic intimacy are interconnected, a reduction in the sexual intimacy in a romantic relationship might make you feel like the romance itself has been reduced. Having the terminology to describe these feelings to your partner is important, especially when discussing differing expectations.
Relationships
For asexual and aromantic people, the standard script of romantic sex-based relationships that society presents doesn’t work – and why should it? We should be able to define what relationships we want in our own lives outside of prescribed norms. We can ask questions like: If sex isn’t what separates a friendship from a romantic relationship, what does? When does platonic love become romantic? When does a sensual or romantic touch become sexual? If romance isn’t important, what do committed, life-long relationships look like? What does a nonromantic, nonsexual, emotionally intimate relationship look like? How can I best communicate my needs in any relationship that I have? What boundaries do I want to set in my relationships? How physically intimate am I willing to be? How can I express how much I care about the other person in all of my relationships, sexual, romantic, platonic, or otherwise?
These questions shouldn’t just be asked within the ace community. As an allosexual person, what separates a friendship from a romantic relationship for you? Do you require sexual intimacy in romantic relationships? What types of relationships do you want in your life? Do you want them because they’re culturally prescribed, or because you desire a certain mix of intimacies?
As an allosexual person (someone who experiences sexual attraction), you might feel a wide range of emotions and thoughts when you learn about asexuality. You may feel like asexual people are “missing out” on something that you think is important. You may feel like asexual people have an easier time because they don’t have to deal with sexual attraction. You may feel like sexual orientation isn’t a big deal. You may be skeptical that asexuality is a valid orientation. Whatever you may think, work through your feelings in private. When an asexual person comes out to you, it isn’t the time to air out all of your feelings and thoughts about asexuality. Educate yourself on asexuality so that you already know the answers to basic questions; it’s a rare and delightful experience when an asexual person comes out to someone who already knows what asexuality is.
Just like coming out with any other orientation, the person is telling you because they trust you, and being ace is a part of their identity that they want you to know about. Support them by affirming their identity and appreciating that your relationship is now a space where they can be a more whole version of their self. If you have lingering questions about asexuality or are curious as to what their experience is like, ask individualized questions like “What does it mean to you?” to avoid having them speak for the entire asexual community.
Don’t assume that they’re unhappy at being asexual – often, learning about asexuality and identifying as ace is liberating. If you’re concerned that they’re uncomfortable with their sexual orientation, you can always ask them how they feel about it. Ask supportive clarifying questions like “How did you feel when you first found out about asexuality?” or “How do you feel now that you identify on the ace spectrum?” Most of the time, though, coming out is just a way for someone to be more true to themselves. They’re not looking for advice, help, or validation – they’re looking for you to listen and understand.
The same advice applies for aromanticism. Something to keep in mind when discussing asexuality is aromantic erasure, especially because people often (wrongly) accept asexuality as an orientation as long as the asexual person is also alloromantic.
Call Out Ace and Aro Erasure
Our society has a pervasive notion that everyone needs sex or romance to be happy. The assumption that everyone is allosexual and should want to have sex is called compulsory sexuality. The assumption that everyone is alloromantic and should want to have romantic relationships is called amatonormativity.
Call out these assumptions when you can. Challenge when someone says that everyone needs sex. Challenge when someone says that all single people are lonely. Include asexuality in discussions about sexual orientation. Call out when asexuality or aromanticism is mocked or invalidated. Celebrate forms of nonsexual or nonromantic intimacy. You don’t have to go out of your way to do these things – prevent the spread of misinformation whenever you can, just like you would call out other hurtful or hateful remarks.
Talk About It
If you work in sex education, it’s important to emphasize that asexuality is a valid sexual orientation and that it’s okay to not want to have sex. Examine your teaching material for ace erasure and give your students the terminology available to express their feelings about sexual attraction, romantic attraction, and other aspects of their identity (I recommend the genderbread person).
Sometimes asexuality or aromanticism comes up in personal discussions with close friends. If someone tells you about intimacy or relationship trouble that they’re having, it’s never appropriate to dismiss their feelings or recommend ways to fix the problem (unless they specifically ask for help). Listen and support them. If it sounds like their feelings and experiences are similar to those of other asexual or aromantic people, bring it up. It’s important not to “diagnose” someone, but mentioning that asexuality and aromanticism are valid orientations not only demonstrates ally-ship, it can open a world of possibilities if the person has never heard of them before. It’s also important to say affirming statements like “It’s totally fine to not want to have sex”, “It’s okay to not want a person in that way”, and “You don’t owe anyone intimacy”.
Instead of saying, “Asexuality doesn’t exist,” try saying, “Asexuality is a sexual orientation just like bi, gay, lesbian, and pan.”
Instead of saying, “You will know when it’s time to have sex,” try saying, “Love doesn’t equal sex.”
Instead of saying, “Have you seen a doctor?” try saying, “There are many happy, healthy relationships that don’t have sex involved in them.”
Instead of saying, “This will pass, it is just a phase. Everyone wants sex sometimes,” try saying, “Sexuality is fluid and exists on a huge spectrum. There are many different types of sexuality.”
Instead of saying, “Sex is a natural part of adult relationships,” try saying, “Sex and sexuality are complicated to figure out. Give yourself time and space to explore what you are feeling.”
Note that behavior is different from orientation, and while asexual people don’t experience sexual attraction, some aces choose to have sex for other reasons (pleasure, physical intimacy, making their partner happy, etc. – the same reasons that allosexual people have sex outside of attraction). The important thing is that their ace identity allows them to freely make that choice, rather than it being forced on them through compulsory sexuality.
Asexuality is a sexual orientation. Other sexual orientations – heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality, pansexuality, etc. – are characterized by sexual attraction toward various gender identities. Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction. Just like sexuality is a spectrum, asexuality is a spectrum as well.
Asexuality is different from celibacy and abstinence – behavior doesn’t define an orientation. It’s different from reduced libido or sex drive – attraction is different from arousal. It isn’t indicative of an underlying medical or mental condition. The lack of sexual attraction isn’t related to a lack of romantic attraction, either. Everyone, asexual or allosexual, has a romantic orientation – they can be panromantic, homoromantic, aromantic, biromantic, heteromantic, etc. For most allosexuals, their sexual and romantic orientations align.
Why Asexual Visibility and Awareness Is Important
Asexuality isn’t as well known as other sexual orientations, which is why awareness, education, and visibility is important! When statements like “everyone wants sex”, “sexuality is healthy”, and “a relationship without sex is just friendship” are made, asexuals are marginalized and erased. The default assumption is that everyone experiences sexual attraction and that everyone wants to have sex. This makes many asexuals feel alienated and broken, especially when they haven’t heard of asexuality or have only heard “asexual” used in a derogatory manner.
Awareness of asexuality is important so that people are equipped with the knowledge and tools necessary to discover their orientation and make informed decisions about whether or not they want to have sex. It’s important for people to know that their feelings toward sex and intimacy are valid and not something that needs to be fixed. It’s important for people to know that they’re not alone.
((EXCUSE ME WHILE I FANFREAK FOR A MOMENT BUT I LOVE THESE BOOKS! I also headcanon Kaladin, Shallan, and Adolin as in a poly relationship, and Jasnah as ace!))
((This was the last entry! <3 Thank you to everyone who entered and I can’t wait to let you all know who the winner is!))
He headcanons Natsu Dragneel from Fairy Tail as asexual!
((When you send me Ace Content (headcanons/poems/art/shout outs/etc.) between NOW and October 31st, 2020 at 11:59 EST, you’ll be entered in a raffle for some Cool Ace Things (1 entry per user) I’ll send you a PM in November if you’ve won! Please remember you cannot enter if you send content on Anon!))
They wrote, “Before I realized I was ace, I was watching the Fried Green Tomatoes movie in English class and the teacher paused it at one point and asked why they cast the actor who played Buddy. And I was like “… idk” and the teacher was very confused by my lack of understanding. My best friend in the class stepped in to answer saying “it’s because he’s hot” and then I looked at him and was like “… I guuueeesss he’s attractive”. Anyways that friend never let me live that down. I should’ve known then“
((When you send me Ace Content (headcanons/poems/art/shout outs/etc.) between NOW and October 31st, 2020 at 11:59 EST, you’ll be entered in a raffle for some Cool Ace Things (1 entry per user) I’ll send you a PM in November if you’ve won! Please remember you cannot enter if you send content on Anon!))
They wrote, “I answer asexual questions every week! (And people can ask on anon!)”
((When you send me Ace Content (headcanons/poems/art/shout outs/etc.) between NOW and October 31st, 2020 at 11:59 EST, you’ll be entered in a raffle for some Cool Ace Things (1 entry per user) I’ll send you a PM in November if you’ve won! Please remember you cannot enter if you send content on Anon!))
They wrote, “I went through an evangelical phase in college, and after church my lil crew would go to breakfast together. One day, the sermon was on Lust (a seven deadly sins series, I think). I was MAD and said to my friends as we were walking, ‘WHAT A WASTE OF TIME. IT’S NOT LIKE LUST IS EVEN REAL. No one wants to have sex with anyone unless they’re really in love with them!!’ And everyone stopped dead in their tracks and turned to look at me. Eventually someone said ‘…ahopeful-undertone…what. Yes, they do.’
I spent a lot of time on the internet that day and mercifully found a bunch of ace resources, but it truly was cartoonish how quickly everyone stopped and stared.”
((When you send me Ace Content (headcanons/poems/art/shout outs/etc.) between NOW and October 31st, 2020 at 11:59 EST, you’ll be entered in a raffle for some Cool Ace Things (1 entry per user) I’ll send you a PM in November if you’ve won! Please remember you cannot enter if you send content on Anon!))
They wrote, “This song is largely about trying to understand your own relationship with attraction when you’re ace “
((When you send me Ace Content (headcanons/poems/art/shout outs/etc.) between NOW and October 31st, 2020 at 11:59 EST, you’ll be entered in a raffle for some Cool Ace Things (1 entry per user) I’ll send you a PM in November if you’ve won! Please remember you cannot enter if you send content on Anon!))
They wrote, “Hi there! I’d like to submit the story of my first asexual moment for the giveaway. I was in 6th grade, and during lunch one of my friends asked the table which fictional character they’d date. Being a table full of hormonal 6th grade boys, they unanimously said Jessica Rabbit. I was so confused lol, I couldn’t figure out why they said her. I understood she was attractive in some way but would she build snowmen with you? Or watch scary movies?? What about her personality? I told them this and they understood but were still all for Jessica Rabbit, and I was even more confounded. First sign of my ace-ness.”
((When you send me Ace Content (headcanons/poems/art/shout outs/etc.) between NOW and October 31st, 2020 at 11:59 EST, you’ll be entered in a raffle for some Cool Ace Things (1 entry per user) I’ll send you a PM in November if you’ve won! Please remember you cannot enter if you send content on Anon!))
They wrote, “I was beta reading a fic for a friend who headcanoned a character as demisexual. I googled it and it was like a lightbulb went off over my head. I started learning more about acespec identity and now I’m out as ace “
((When you send me Ace Content (headcanons/poems/art/shout outs/etc.) between NOW and October 31st, 2020 at 11:59 EST, you’ll be entered in a raffle for some Cool Ace Things (1 entry per user) I’ll send you a PM in November if you’ve won! Please remember you cannot enter if you send content on Anon!))
