Time to read: 7 minutes
Asexuality
Most people are alloromantic-allosexual. In fact, a popular statistic states that only 1% of the population is asexual (Bogaert, 2004), and even less can be extrapolated for aromantic people. The memorable nature of this figure has contributed to its prevalence. Bogaert notes the disbelief many show when confronted with this statistic and how “large” that 1% seems to be (Bogaert, 2012).
Prior to this, asexuality was (and partially is still) known largely in relation to the purely biological perspective in which organisms can produce offspring without needing a mate. However, asexuality has also been prescribed through race and leveraged against many groups including Asian men who have been emasculated and desexualized in the name if Western conquest, masculinity, and patriarchy (Chan, 2001; Shimizu, 2012); [white] women through their supposed docility, purity, and maternity in 19th and 20th century sexology (Kim, 2014); and Black women through the mammy stereotype, a docile servant free of reproductive burden thus able to raise and care for white children (Brown, 2022; Hawkins Owen, 2014).
Asexuality makes Black women “less threatening” while asexuality in whiteness connotes purity and reverence (Hawkins Owen, 2014, p. 122). Interestingly, asexuality operates in a contradictory manner when applied to race; it is simultaneously a dehumanizing punishment for racialized groups and a state of perfection only attainable through whiteness. This upholds a racialized social and political system that benefits white people allowing their asexuality to be agentive while making it restrictive for others (Hawkins Owen, 2014).
Prause and Graham (2007) note research that has used the word “asexual” as a negative, pejorative label against individuals (older people, young lesbians, and people with physical disabilities and severe mental illnesses) with an absence of sexual behaviors and desires or those that only engage in non-sexual romantic relationships. Disabled people have been falsely constructed as asexual because of presumed lack of physical or cognitive capability to engage in sexual activities (Lund & Johnson, 2015). Asexual people have been pathologized and stereotyped as dysfunctional, repressed, alone, antisocial, repulsive, unattractive, and inhuman (Cerankowski & Milks, 2014; MacInnis & Hodson, 2012).
However, asexuality is a sexual orientation just like any other. As it is distanced from its medicalized and pathologized past, research on asexuality emphasizes a “subjective” definition rather than one centering on physiological arousal/attraction by centering sexual attraction over sexual behavior, sexual identity, and romantic attraction (Bogaert, 2006).
The internet brought a new age for asexuality awareness. Not only did website launch of the Asexuality Visibility & Education Network (AVEN) and rapid growth facilitate this, but several media appearances of David Jay and other AVEN members in 2006 brought asexuality into the national spotlight. For better or worse, the existence of asexuality is falsely conflated with a sort of online inception.
What must be clarified is that though many may have discovered asexuality in recent years, its existence is not new. Only in this increased visibility were many asexual people able to find the words to describe their experiences and find communities on forums, LiveJournal, Tumblr, and other sites (Cerankowski, 2014). These sites can operate as counterpublics in which marginalized groups create their own space outside of dominant society (Renninger, 2015).
Aromanticism
In comparison to the already sparse research on asexuality, aromanticism has had even less scholarly interest. The available research still views aromanticism through a lens of asexuality and discusses the differences of romantic and aromantic asexuals (Antonsen et al., 2020; Carvalho & Rodrigues, 2022). Even so, the unknown natures of aromanticism and asexuality may lead researchers to conflate them and forgo their distinctions, as is also common with the general public.
Though the distinction between romantic and sexual attraction may not be important for most, it is helpful for the aro/ace community especially those that may identify as aromantic and not asexual. Or perhaps they do not label their sexual orientation at all. Non-SAM aros and aces are just as important in these discussions as those that follow the split attraction model.
Community research on aromanticism and asexuality are valuable and can fill some gaps in knowledge here; individuals within these communities hold a deep understanding of these concepts not easily available to outsiders. For example, both the aromantic and asexual community surveys are run by volunteers within their communities, and the Aromantic-spectrum Union for Recognition, Education, and Advocacy (AUREA) maintains a list of projects and research conducted by community members.
In addition to the systemic issues of allonormativity, amatonormativity, and compulsory sexuality, even just a general lack of sensitivity and knowledge of aromanticism and asexuality have contributed to its marginalization. When everything around us says normal people have sex, date, and fall in love, it becomes impossible to imagine people existing outside of that while still living a fulfilling life.
And contrary to the politics of queerness as anti-normative, much of it posited on its erotic capacities (Cerankowski & Milks, 2010), aromanticism and asexuality have again been marginalized. Where queerness has historically fought for sexual freedom from compulsive heterosexuality, neglect and hostility toward aromanticism and asexuality can occur because they can be perceived as contributing to sexual shaming. However, if queerness has been about freedom for different types of love and sex, then the right to not participate in love and sex should be just as queer.
In speaking of the astonishment towards the 1% statistic, Bogaert (2012) suggests three possible explanations that are also relevant to the ignorance surrounding aromanticism and asexuality as a whole.
- Their “as if!” reaction could be correct. The 1% figure may indeed be inaccurate and the actual percentage of asexuals even lower than estimated. If there truly were even less asexual (and aromantic) people, perhaps the lack of knowledge would be justified (p. 51).
- False consensus, or the idea that everyone is just like ourselves, may also be at play. “If I feel sexual, then everyone else must be sexual too, or just as sexual as I am.” It’s difficult to imagine experiences beyond our own, especially when you have not been exposed to them at all (pp. 51-52).
- For some gay people, justice sensitivity may be a cause for their lack of awareness or dismissal of aromanticism and asexuality. Gay people have fought their own battle for recognition as a sexual minority and asexuality may be seen as an encroachment on their status as the original [sic] sexual minority group (p. 52). Because of asexuality’s recent arrival to the queer soapbox, there may be reluctance to “share the spotlight.”
Of course, legitimate aphobia may also be a cause. As the pressures of allonormativity and amatonormativity prove, aro/ace people do suffer from marginalization and invisibility in our sex and romance-obsessed society. When alloromantic-allosexuals are largely unaware of aromanticism and asexuality, there are few places to find representation and visibility within media.
As such, people make the representation themselves. Visibility in today’s society is a necessity to reach goals of acceptance and awareness (Cerankowski, 2014). However, it is important to note that this request for visibility often comes with the attached notion of “we’re just like you” (p. 143). This plea for normalcy borders on tolerance rather than acceptance, and AVEN’s use of it shows a desire to at least be legitimated within the dominant culture if the dominant culture cannot yet be dismantled. These conflicting goals, disrupting normative understanding of sexuality while simultaneously placating them, are difficult to reconcile. They serve different purposes: to change society for future generations and to assure our wellbeing in today’s society by expanding what it means to “fit in.”
Fanfiction then becomes a space of reparation where people write stories that reflect a world more aware and accepting of aromanticism and asexuality.
Aromanticism & Asexuality in Fanfiction Writing 