We live in an overly sexualized world, and that always caused problems for me. People would mention how so-and-so was hot, and I wouldn't know how to respond. People would be in relationships or develop crushes, something I never understood. I turned an interest in a person of the opposite gender (usually because they were intelligent and we had similar interests) into a "crush" just to try and be normal. I felt...broken, somehow, because I couldn't fit what seemed to be the required mold of the American teenage girl.
Then, one day, as I was on the internet, I came across the term "asexual." And that was when it clicked for me. I wasn't broken or wrong in some way, like I felt I was--I just was asexual.
AVEN (the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network) says the following about asexuality and asexuals:
"An asexual is someone who does not experience sexual attraction. Unlike celibacy, which people choose, asexuality is an intrinsic part of who we are. Asexuality does not make our lives any worse or any better, we just face a different set of challenges than most sexual people. There is considerable diversity among the asexual community; each asexual person experiences things like relationships, attraction, and arousal somewhat differently. Asexuality is just beginning to be the subject of scientific research."
Roughly 1% of the American population is asexual, a slightly smaller number than those who are gay or bisexual. However, the number may be higher than previously thought, as it is rare for people to come out as asexual--it doesn't matter in the same way as being gay or bi does. That's not to say that it doesn't matter, because it does, but a lot of aces (the slang term for asexuals, the same as using "gay" for "homosexual") don't feel the need to come out, because sex is a private thing, and people don't necessarily need to know that someone has no sexual attraction.
For aces, their romantic orientation (which work the same as sexual orientations, just with romantic attraction, falling in love, as opposed to sexual attraction) is more often what they come out about, and have more trouble figuring out. For instance, I knew that I was ace as soon as I heard the term and knew what it meant, but it took me a lot longer, and a year in a relationship, to figure out my romantic orientation. I knew that I wasn't heteroromantic, but I didn't know any more than that. I thought that perhaps I was demiromantic, which is when you only fall in love with someone when you have a pre-existing emotional attachment with them, but, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that love outside of a platonic or familial sense was entirely foreign to me, despite having a boyfriend. That was when I realized that, in addition to be being asexual, I was also aromantic (the romantic equivalent of asexuality; often shortened to aro).
As with all other members of the LGBT+ spectrum, aces are subject to labels and untrue assumptions, although they are not encountered as often (the most common response I get to telling someone that I'm asexual is "what does that mean?"). It isn't always as pronounced, or, more importantly, addressed, as homophobia or biphobia or any other phobias found in the LGBT+ community, largely because fewer aces actually come out (although there is a list of eight things you should never say to an asexual). Take me, for instance. I am technically out, as I do not consider my asexuality a secret and will discuss it if asked, but it is not the same as cousin coming out as a lesbian--the difference largely lies in events such as my cousin bringing her girlfriend to family functions. I'm not saying that it's a problem; rather, it is harder to hide or deny sexual orientations (or romantic orientations, to be fair to non-hetero or -aro aces) that could include a relationship with the member of the same sex.
There are, of course, the jokes about asexuality and the comparisons to other sexualities. Many of these are not intended to be offensive, and I personally find them funny. My favorite is this one:
Others I like are the comparisons between sexualities (I am aware that these do not include all sexual orientations; I did not come up with them, just saw them online):
Heterosexual: door opens one way
Homosexual: door opens the other way
Bisexual: door opens both ways
Pansexual: door is a revolving door
Asexual: door is a wall
and
Heterosexual: All the hot people are gay!
Homosexual: All the hot people are straight!
Bisexual: All the hot people are taken!
Pansexual: Everyone is hot--what do I do?
Asexual: Shut up; I'm trying to rule the world here.
That's not to say that all aces want to rule the world or are criminal masterminds or something. It's more a reference to the amount of time and energy most people seem to spend thinking about sex and related topics, and I saw a post wondering where all that time, energy, and brainpower went in aces. The logical conclusion is, of course, that we are plotting how to take over the world (this does, however, lead to the unfortunate representations of aces in the media as being the bad guys, which simply isn't true. We're just as human as everyone else).
Finally, a big thing that people don't realize about asexuals is that they do experience aesthetic attraction or aesthetic recognition. This is the ability of aces to realize that someone is good-looking (not "hot;" that is a sexual term), and also the reason that I knew that I wasn't heteroromantic (from an aesthetic standpoint, I find females much more attractive; I am more likely to say a girl is gorgeous than even comment on how a male looks).
Just like other members of the LGBT+ community, aces aren't really all that different from everyone else. Our lack of sexual attraction really isn't that big a deal, as it has no effect on anyone and often isn't even noticed (although this has led to a covering up of the asexual community, as no one really knows that they're even there).
Further reading:
(This is a repost from my main blog)
