This post is a response to the July Carnival of Aces, the theme of which was “sex-repulsion/sex-aversion.
I’ve written plenty on this blog about sex-repulsion/sex-aversion and its intersection with asexuality, and I will continue to spotlight those experiences and those particular asexuals because it is vitally important for sex-repulsion/sex-aversion to be supported, accepted, and represented both in and outside of the asexual community. I want sexual society to know that the majority of asexuals are sex-repulsed or sex-averse and do not want to have sex with anyone ever, and I want to live in a world where not having sex and not wanting sex are equally as acceptable as sexual activity. I want to dismantle compulsory sexuality and sex supremacy in our society, and promoting sex-repulsed/sex-averse asexuals is key to achieving that goal. I also want to contribute to an asexual community that supports, protects, and nurtures the sex-repulsed and sex-averse and celibate, because asexual spaces should be the one place where those aces are safe, heard, and empowered.
I read one of the other submissions to this month’s Carnival, and I have to respond to it because it raises a great point that is personally relevant to me. Sara K. over at thenoteswhichdonotfit pointed out how common it is for both asexuals and allosexuals to lump sex-indifferent aces in with sex-favorable aces, to the point where the sex-indifferent asexuals are expected to have sex, to enjoy it, or at least to be willing to have sex with any and every allosexual romantic partner who comes along. I confess that I’ve fallen into the habit of viewing self-identified sex-indifferent asexuals as categorically willing to have sex if they have to in order to be in a romantic relationship with an allosexual, and because of this view, I’ve generally felt like sex-indifferent aces are distanced from the experiences of sex-repulsed and sex-averse asexuals.
I think part of the problem is how we define “sex-indifferent” vs. “sex-repulsed” and “sex-averse” and “sex-favorable.” Taken at face value, “indifferent” indicates neutrality, which is very different from “aversion” and “repulsion.” Indifferent, to me (and obviously to a lot of other aces), means that you don’t have a problem with sex to a point where you would be unable to comfortably participate in it. I think of sex-indifferent asexuals as people who could certainly live without sex forever, who may prefer not to have sex, who would be happy to be in nonsexual romantic or nonromantic relationships if they get that chance, but who will pretty much always submit to an allosexual partner’s desire for sex rather than firmly refusing and who won’t be upset by sex emotionally or psychologically.
Sara makes a great point though, when she says:
“The point I do want to make is that, under compulsory sexuality, you need a *reason* to opt out of sex rather than a reason to opt-in in the first place, and the assumptions made about sex-indifferent aces are made because we have not provided a reason for opting-out.”
This is definitely true from the perspective of the average allosexual: if you can have sex without crying or having a panic attack or wanting to die, and certainly if you can have sex that is physically pleasurable/orgasmic, you should be doing it. That’s the gist of compulsory sexuality. There is no good reason NOT to have sex, as far as sexual society is concerned. Even asexuality isn’t a good reason, to a lot of people; it’s something to be “cured” and “overcome” because life without sex isn’t worth living.
I’m one of those semi-rare asexuals who tirelessly defend the asexual person’s right to reject sex, even within a mixed romantic relationship, and who thinks there is no good God damn reason why it should always or even mostly be the asexual’s responsibility to sacrifice on the sexual front to make a partner happy, instead of the allosexual partner becoming celibate to make their asexual partner happy. Sometimes, I feel like a lone voice howling in the void about nonsexual romantic relationships being possible and something that all asexuals have a right to ask for, no matter who their partner is. The default assumption is that romantic asexuals must date allosexuals because they outnumber aces and that “compromise” (I cannot express how much I fucking hate that word) amounts to the asexual having sex.
So, yes, sex-indifferent aces should be able to say “no” to sex just as often as sex-repulsed and sex-averse aces, and we shouldn’t–as a community–give sexual society the impression that you can fuck all the sex-indifferent aces.
I consider myself and have been telling the world for a while that I am sex-averse, because I think that’s a softer term than “sex-repulsed” and more accurate a descriptor for my attitudes toward sex. A lot of sex-repulsed aces can’t be exposed to any kind of sexual content, let alone be put in sexual or potentially sexual situations, without feeling physically ill or otherwise viscerally disgusted, horrified, etc. Some sex-repulsed aces experience dysphoria toward their own genitals or their sex drive and arousal. Some sex-repulsed aces can’t think about themselves having sex without feeling super uncomfortable. All of that is okay. I myself am nowhere near that uncomfortable with sex and sexuality, which is why I use the term “sex-averse” rather than “sex-repulsed.” I use that term “sex-averse” to communicate the fact that I am not willing to have partnered sex of any kind, and that I feel strongly about long-term celibacy. I am sex-averse because I would never remotely consider having sex to please or keep an allosexual partner.
But I’m also an asexual with an active libido, who masturbates on a regular basis, who is totally comfortable with my own body, my genitals, the fact that I experience arousal, etc. I’m an asexual who’s been using porn since I was a kid, in all of its forms. I’m an asexual who can be around other people engaging in sexual activity or who are talking explicitly about sex and not have a problem at all. I can talk about and think about and imagine sex in graphic terms and be comfortable. Even sexual or erotic type acts that I find off-putting—like open-mouthed kissing with tongue or blow jobs or BDSM sex—don’t make me all that uncomfortable, certainly not to the point of panic or tears or strong disgust. (Making out’s pretty gross, but I’m not going to freak out if I see it.) I can have sexual fantasies involving myself and enjoy them as arousal material for when I need to masturbate.
I’m also really, really interested in heavily sensual physical intimacy, in the context of intimate and loving friendships. I want to explore physical affection and touch to a point of nonsexual/nongenital eroticism. I don’t know what I’ll like or how much I’ll like it or what I’ll be comfortable vs. uncomfortable with, but I’m open to pretty much everything under the umbrella of “nongenital/nonsexual physical intimacy” except for making out. Hugging, cuddling, caressing, massages, co-sleeping, kissing the body, maybe kissing the mouth, nonsexual body worship, etc. I’m significantly more open and enthusiastic to sensual physicality than a lot of other asexuals and aromantics are, as far as I can tell. (Assuming, of course, that I’m with a friend I can trust not to pressure me into sex, either because they are asexual or not sexually attracted to me/my gender.)
Yet I won’t have partnered sex. And I have several reasons for this.
First and foremost, sex is obviously not intuitive to me because I’m asexual. I’m not naturally motivated to seek it out. I don’t need it to be happy or to feel connected to another person or to feel loved. It’s like any other activity that I have no interest in: why the hell would I say yes to doing something I’m not interested in? I wouldn’t go skydiving to please a friend, and I sure as hell won’t fuck to please a friend either.
Second, I can easily satisfy my libido through masturbation, and masturbation is infinitely easier, safer, and more comfortable than partnered sex could ever be. Masturbation happens on my terms, and I never have to worry about STDs/STIs or unwanted pregnancy. Not having sex with other people makes life easier. It’s also much safer, as far as I’m concerned, when it comes to avoiding sexual abuse and assault by partners; fuck if I trust sexual people on the whole to be consistently ethical and respectful toward asexuals in a sexual context. That trustworthiness must be proven on an individual basis, and until it is proven, I wouldn’t recommend any asexual who is less than sex-favorable all the time to give an allosexual the impression that they are sexually available in the same way that allosexuals are.
Third, there are definitely some sex acts I know I would not want to perform on another person or with another person, because they do gross me out a little bit. Making out, which isn’t even sexual, grosses me out, and there’s no way I would want to do that with anyone.
Fourth, having nonsexual relationships is really important to me. I’m somewhere on the aromantic spectrum, and friendship has always been the ideal love to me. I know sexual friendship is a thing that exists, but I’ve always conceived of perfect friendship as this nonsexual, nonromantic relationship that has the most passion, love, intimacy, emotion, touch, and commitment possible between two human beings. That, to me, is the most beautiful and desirable relationship that could ever exist. I would never want to be in a traditionally romantic relationship, and I would also never want sex to be part of the most important and emotional relationships in my life. The ideal friendship, in my mind, is special in part because it is nonsexual. To be profoundly connected and intimate with someone, emotionally and physically and spiritually and mentally, without wanting or needing sex (or romance) in that relationship is really special and unique. Romantic-sexual relationships are the most common in the world, but a passionate friendship is rare to the point that I don’t believe everyone capable of it. I don’t want to be friends with someone who loves me because they want to fuck me or because they do fuck me, and I don’t want sex to be a reason that my important friendship(s) are important.
Fifth, sex cannot be used as a tool to build the relationships I actually want. This ties in with my desire and definition of ideal friendship. Maybe if I wanted traditional romantic relationships, I would be more willing to use sex as a tool, because it is a tool for building and securing romantic relationships. But I want passionate friendship and other queerplatonic friendships. Sex is totally antithetical to passionate friendship, and while it can technically exist in other QP friendships, in a world dominated by alloromantic allosexuals only aware of and interested in normative romantic-sexual relationships, sex is only something you use to build those normative romantic relationships, not to build a QP friendship.
Basically, the benefits of celibacy far outweigh any benefits of having sex. There’s no good reason for me to bother having sex with anyone. Having sex can’t give me anything I actually want, that I can’t give myself anyway.
Now, given my reasons for celibacy and my feelings about sexuality, maybe “sex-indifferent” is a more accurate label for me than “sex-averse,” according to some people’s definitions. But the fact is, most sex-indifferent aces I’ve encountered in the last 8+ years are having sex or will have sex in romantic relationships, and most sex-repulsed/sex-averse aces aren’t having sex and won’t have sex ever, even if that means forgoing the relationships they want. So, I gravitate significantly to the “sex-averse” term and to the portion of the asexual population that’s sex-repulsed. There are a lot of reasons why I feel unable to connect or relate to large portions of the asexual community, and my celibacy is one of them, though not necessarily the most divisive difference. I just feel like there’s no way any sexually active ace, whether indifferent or favorable, can fully understand what it’s like to be a person who doesn’t have sex and won’t have sex and specifically wants nonsexual love and relationships in this hyper-sexual world. Even if sex-repulsed people, asexual and allosexual, are a lot less comfortable with sexuality in the abstract than I am, they know what it’s like to be celibate long-term and to want nonsexual relationships and attempt to form them.
That said, I do agree with Sara K. that people should understand a lot of sex-indifferent aces don’t want to have sex and won’t have it, and that for them the term “sex-indifferent” means being comfortable with sexuality as a concept or as content exclusive to the self, rather than “indifferent to participating in sex with other people and therefore open to it.”