Fifty Shades of Ace & Love (My Experience with Asexuality & Homoromanticism)
Growing up surrounded by a culture obsessed with heterosexual sex, drugs, and endless partying, I always knew that I didn’t fit in. That ideal life, a timeless celebration of youth, was never desirable to me. Yet the media was adamant in shoving that lifestyle down my throat with countless sexual pop songs, films, and shows that dramatized a typical Friday night for the American teenager--lost in strobe lights and marijuana smoke while making out with a lover. If the teen is not partying, they’re probably a loser with pent-up libido who masturbates wildly in the bedroom while watching hardcore porn to distract themselves from the fact that no one will ever take their virginity. From the looks of it, it seems like everyone is a sex-crazed animal. Sex has always been portrayed as a physical necessity, but in reality, it’s simply an act of pleasure. No one is going to die from the lack of touch on their genitals. Sex is also seen as an emotional necessity, an act that will surely solidify the bond between a couple for it is the ultimate expression of love and passion. Yet there are people who have one night stands with insignificant people. Despite the messages our pop culture sends, sex does not have to be a part of everyone’s lives.
Now, here’s where I come in. Hi, I’m asexual. Yes, that’s what the “A” in LGBTQIAP stands for (the A can also stand for aromantic and agender). Whatever you have been told, THE A DOES NOT STAND FOR ALLY! For once, can heterosexuality take the back seat?! Allies are so important, don’t get me wrong, but the “A” never stood for ally. Asexuality is a sexual orientation for people who do not experience sexual attraction. Time and time again, people confuse celibacy with asexuality when they are two very different things. Celibacy is a choice, while asexuality, as mentioned, is a sexuality and therefore, not a choice. Similar to gender and sexuality, asexuality works on a spectrum. Every asexual’s experience with sex is different. There are some asexuals who do engage in sexual activities, but simply for the benefit of their partner. There are some asexuals who are repulsed with sex altogether and instead seek an emotional or romantic connection with their partner.
My feelings toward sex are complicated and ever-changing. I’ve grown more indifferent towards the manner as I am continually exposed to it every second of my life through mainstream media. When I see random unwanted porn on my Tumblr dashboard, I don’t even flinch and keep scrolling. When I was younger, however, I had sex nightmares. My fear and disgust for sex manifested itself into my dreams as a giant octopus sucking my face, latching onto me with its tentacles, in and out every crevice. (No, I never watched tentacle hentai.) Sex no longer scares me, but I still cringe at every sex scene in the movies and shows I watch, whether or not my parents are in the room. I have no desire to watch porn or read erotica or masturbate. (Though there could be asexuals who engage in these activities, which doesn’t make them any less of an asexual.) Being a teenager with raging hormones, I acknowledge that this may be hard to believe. But I swear this isn’t “a phase” and I highly doubt my attitude towards sex will drastically change.
In so many young adult books, movies, and shows, a person’s virginity can make or break their reputation. If you’re a virgin, you’re a prude, but if you’re very sexually active, you’re a slut. This illogical way of thinking has been plaguing young minds for decades. The very concept of virginity is pointless and simply another heteronormative patriarchal social construct aimed to pressure human beings. Men who are virgins are emasculated and women who are virgins are “pure,” but if they reject sex, they’re “man-haters.” This is, of course, under the assumption that sex can only happen between a man and a woman, which is obviously utter bullcrap.
Now that I’ve discussed my sex life (or lack thereof), I’ll give you an insight on my love life. (I actually don’t have a love life either, but I do experience romantic attraction). My disinterest in sex has no effect on my romantic orientation. I identify as homoromantic, meaning I am romantically attracted to people of the same gender. Sure, I can find male celebrities attractive, but I don’t ‘fall in love’ with them. The only boys I’ve fallen for are either fictional characters in my books or anime boys because no actual boy will ever look that perfect (to me). On the other hand, I’ve found many girls attractive and crushed on them for their looks and personalities. Though I could fantasize about kissing girls, I don’t dream of sleeping with them. I don’t ogle at women’s bodies. There are other ways people can be intimate and enjoy each other’s company without being sexual. I always emotionally connected better with girls, both friendship-wise and relationship-wise, simple as that.
Accurate and respectable LGBT+ representation is already limited in film and television. However, there is little to no asexual representation whatsoever. As long as the saying “sex sells” rings true, asexuals have a long way to go to achieve visibility and respect in society. Furthermore, the differentiation between romantic and sexual attraction needs to be properly addressed because most people tend to equate lust with love, which is the root of many relationship problems.
I always knew I was different, but I could never pinpoint my true feelings. The shows and movies I watched growing up, High School Musical and Victorious to name a few, only ever showed heterosexual relationships. My friends would never believe me when I said I never had a crush on a boy before. Relatives and family friends would persistently ask me whether or not I had a boyfriend and continue to ridicule me when I said I didn’t. One family friend who claims to be a “foreseer” of some sort told my mother that I was destined to marry a rich man and have four children. (Could she be any more wrong?!) My parents would be paranoid and start getting ideas if they saw me even have a conversation with a boy. My friends would try to set me up with the guys who crushed on me in school and made fun of me when I said I had zero interest. I felt like there was something wrong with me because I didn’t have or want a boyfriend, which is absolutely ridiculous.
It wasn’t until I made a Tumblr account that introduced me to all the different, inclusive terminology of the LGBT+ community that I truly felt normal and less alone. I’m still figuring myself out every day, but if I know one thing for certain, it’s that there is no way in hell I am having sex with a boyfriend as my romantic partner. F*** that.
Happy pride, everyone. We’re all different, but we’re all human. It’s all about love and acceptance.
