Sexual Fluidity

Let's talk about sexual fluidity! If you're asexual, and maybe if you're not, you've probably heard the phrase "sexuality is fluid". I'll be open about the fact that I don't really understand it in a lot of ways-- that's actually the point of this post. "Fluidity" can imply many different things, but no one ever really goes into what exactly they mean when they use the term. If someone asked me how sexuality is fluid, I'd probably say something like, "Well, I guess it's common to not be 100% asexual, 100% heterosexual, and so on for any other orientation." There are, as we hopefully all know by now, many gray areas.

However, I'm not sure that's what most people using the term mean by it. The idea of someone's sexuality changing a lot over a lifetime isn't something I can personally relate to, at least not yet. My feelings towards sex, romance, and whatever else that comprises a sexuality (or lack thereof) have always been about the same. Only my ability to understand and explain it has changed. And from my brief time on Earth, I can't say that I've noticed human beings to be especially fluid. Most of us seem pretty stubborn and set in our ways. Even people who are constantly seeking the new can be stuck in their own rut, where they have trouble changing enough to stick with one thing.

Another issue I have with the term is that it seems like it's mostly queer people who ever mention it. Maybe queer people are just next-level when it comes to this stuff, but if sexuality in general is fluid, then heterosexuals are just as fluid as everyone else. There's this idea among asexuals that in the future, there's some chance of us becoming sexual. However, no one ever says that one day, sexuals could become asexual. It seems like kind of a double-standard, sometimes.

And last, "sexuality is fluid" is a very absolute statement. If asexuals have taught us anything, we should know that there probably isn't anything that sexuality is for everybody.

So that's my confusion; let me show you it.

If you comment about sexual fluidity (and I hope you do), please include in your comment what the concept means (or doesn't mean) to you. Thanks in advance!

White Blackbirds: Reviewed

So I got the White Blackbirds zine (about "women who aren't married and don't want to be"), and it was really cool. One thing that surprised me was that most of the women profiled were in romantic relationships, or had even been married in the past. I know that being in a romantic relationship isn't the same as marriage. However, if you're been with someone for a long time and live together, certain aspects can become similar. So most people in the zine aren't talking about the everyday experience of marriage, but its legal/religious/social connotations on a broader scale. Katie, the zine's editor, wrote in her introduction that unmarried women, in her opinion, need role models (one of hers is Morrissey!). And I definitely agree with that.

The interview I could relate to the most was with Hannah, age 21, from the UK. She talked about Boston marriages and when asked what she was passionate about, had this to say:

Creating community and community feeling-- it's become a cliche to say, but it's true: there's a lot of distance in modern life. We've never been so connected via e-mail, phone, the internet and on and on and on, but the biggest malaise of our time seems to be how we feel isolated from everyone. Community isn't automatically there because of family, heritage and roots anymore. It has to be built and worked on and thought about, and people are busy and absorbed in their lives- which have a gap. Generally a community-shaped gap. Whether it's a community of people who happen to share the same sexual orientation, religious beliefs, political beliefs or an interest in baking, gardening, or BDSM, that sense of community is important to our lives.

A lot of other people made interesting comments as well, like one woman, Nine, who observed that "...I don't think men get quizzed quite so much about whether they want kids, and if they don't want them, I don't think they're so likely to get that patronizing smile and 'You'll change your mind, once your biological clock starts ticking...'". There was another interviewee, Ciara, who got "Spinster" tattooed on her knuckles to "remind myself to continue to be critical of traditional romantic myths. i feel that these concepts are especially damaging to women, encouraging us to postpone other significant parts of our lives for love and romance." I thought that was a pretty badass tattoo idea, however, I decided to take my cue from Queen Christina:

Although with these Paint skills, I agree, it's astounding that I could still be single.

Apparently, there was so much interest in the zine that there's going to be another volume. I'm going to be in it! Which is pretty exciting. Doing my interview brought up some thoughts that I'd actually never considered before. For awhile, I've had a vague suspicion that marriage may not be "for me", however, no one had ever asked me to articulate why this was, until now.

How About We...

It's a waste that I don't date, but not for the reason most people might think. The truth is, I often have what I would consider good ideas for dates, but no romantic interests to try them out on. Then I read in the New York Times that there's a new online dating site where people are "matched" by suggesting date ideas. It's called How About We. I think that at the moment, it only covers New York, and even if it didn't, I am rubbish at online dating. However, I have to admit that this is one of the better mainstream dating-site concepts that I've seen. One issue is that when I chose to search for "women and men", it automatically put "Bi-sexual" on my profile (yes, with a hyphen). But aside from that, focusing on an activity might be beneficial to asexual daters. Your date might not get laid, but hey, at least they didn't have to play miniature golf and eat fondue alone. Online daters can be really intense, and meeting over an activity just seems a lot more casual to me.

Anyway, I entered a New York zip code so that I could view some of the dates that people were suggesting. Here's a selection:

• "How about we... go to the botanical gardens and try and spot people that look like their dog." A man after my own heart.
• "How about we... do something super active/healthy and then completely negate it with leisure/gluttony." Someone figures themselves a study in contrasts.
• "How about we... wander around all the bad neighborhoods in the city until we get mugged and/or assaulted and then we can bond in the police station as we file a report." So...ladies?
  
• "How about we... paint watercolors on the brooklyn bridge at dusk." Actually, that sounds kind of cool.
  

However, even I know that dates aren't exciting because of the activity, but because you might encounter someone you have chemistry with. Under the surface of How About We is the certainty that a lot of these really cool date ideas will end up being snoozefests at the best, because the people involved didn't end up getting along. Knowing that, maybe I should try to make my dream date activities a reality with some of the people in my life who I already know and like. While meeting mysterious strangers for "bocce ball and drinking wine from paper cups" might have a unique appeal, doing that activity with a good friend can have advantages of its own. And it sure beats my usual activity suggestion: "I dunno, whadda you wanna do?"

5 Years! Count 'Em! Five!

It was Spring of 2005 when I first started to question my sexuality in earnest, coming to the conclusion that I was asexual. So since it's been five years (a weighty number, I guess) I thought I'd write a bit about how my attitudes have changed since then. I don't remember the exact moment when I realized I was ace, but I think that if I really reach for it, I can remember the exact moment I realized I was not the same as heterosexuals. I think I was in my infinitesimally small dorm room, oddly situated in the most beautiful neighborhood I'd ever seen: Chelsea, London. A guy had asked me out (I think my friends were more excited than I was) and I found my thoughts wandering to: "Would I ever want to have sex with him?" My answer was an emphatic "no". If I'd just stopped there, I wouldn't have dug up anything unusual. But I continued on with, "Who would I have sex with?" Away from my familiar routine, I felt free to answer: No one. At that moment, I had a realization. It wasn't that I was asexual (yet), but that I hadn't been separating sex in practice from sex in theory. Sex in theory sounded well and good, something I would do when I was "in love" with someone (which still hasn't happened). But sex in practice was something I never had any interest in. And in that moment, I knew that meeting "the right guy" wouldn't change that.

Since then I'm pretty sure I've learned countless things, including:

• I don't have to engage in any sexual or romantic activity that I'm not comfortable with just to prove my orientation.
• And that I was a normal asexual, not a "failed" heterosexual.
• It doesn't matter when your first date or first kiss is, if they ever happen at all. Same with losing your virginity.
• Cake makes everyone feel more welcome.
• The gender binary is silly, and some people fall outside of it.
• A lot of people are really ignorant, but some are surprisingly open-minded.
  
• Asexuality has a long history, from Hippolytus to Kinsey's "X"s and beyond.
  
• The Doctor, whose name is not "Doctor Who", travels in a police box and this is the image you should use as your internet icon or avatar.
• Being married, or in a romantic relationship, is not an instant cure for loneliness. Plenty of people feel alone, regardless of orientation, and being asexual doesn't mean you'll be lonely.
• Indiepop is oddly asexual.
  
• To question everything. I'd like to think this will be a good thing in the long run.
  
• Heteronormativity is a problem.
• Community is one of the most important things to me in life.
  
• The language we use to talk about sex and romance, from "just friends" to "in a relationship", could do with some updating.
  
• It's okay to not be "in love" with anyone. And the love I do feel is just as valid as romantic love is.

Whether you came out as asexual yesterday or 20 years ago, I want to ask...what have you learned? And if you're not asexual (or if you like this question better), what are some of the most important things you've learned in the past 5 years?

Pride Recap!

Pride! I survived! And I'm experiencing ace withdrawal already. This year, I was prepared to feel a bit down after Pride ended, so hopefully I won't be having a replay of "Post-Pride depression". I need some other project to work on now, though...

I realized while trying to explain why asexuals would be in Pride that there are two distinct components to it. One is visibility/education, and the other is asexual community-building. Let's start with vis/ed, shall we? Merciless and possibly excruciating detail to follow...

As one marcher commented, it's really hard to come up with catchy slogans that actually explain what asexuality is to people who have never heard of it. We can get the word "asexual" out there, but we can't really explain who we are very well in a parade context. I'm sure at least a few people looked seriously at the flyers we handed out. And since we know asexuals are 1 in 100 people at the least, there must have been a handful of folks in the crowd who had been looking for the word "asexual" to describe themselves. However, I wouldn't have been surprised if a lot of people thought we were a bakers' union or something. Responses ran from a few obscene gestures from spectators (really, people?) to a woman telling me she loved my "Asexuals Party Hardest" shirt. One really nice response came from an employee of the Gay and Lesbian Task Force, who told some of us that his sister just came out to him as asexual.

Although we weren't actually shown on TV (not sure how that mistake happened), the commentators did talk about us, and actually gave accurate information this time. They said that "even though asexuals aren't in LGBT, they're still part of the community", which I thought was a cool thing to say. It's worth mentioning that while the Pride Committee claims to plan the parade order with great care, I have my doubts. We were between representatives from Jerry Springer: The Musical and some anti-circumcision activists sporting a "Foreskin is Fabulous" banner. The parade was moving so quickly that we had a hard time staying clumped together, and our cheers, which weren't that loud to begin with, were probably drowned out by the louder chants of "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!" Sigh.

(A brief note about the guys: Last year, the AVEN contingent was described as "a group of women" by The Chronicle. This year, it was fairly accurate, as our group of 20-something people only included two men (Hey DJ and my dad!). Someone did come up to our group when we were in the assembly area and asked us if asexuals were all women. I heard someone explaining that AVEN does most of its organizing online, and that online forums tend to be more popular with women. Usually, we have more women than men at meetups, however, the ratio is not usually quite this skewed. Do women just like parades more than men? I have no idea.)

As for the asexual community-building aspect, that was awesome. It was, as usual, great to meet all the aces who had traveled from near, far, and very far. It always makes me really happy to hear people say, "I've never seen so many asexuals in one place before!" At meetups, people often say, "This is my first time meeting other asexuals" and I think that's a really powerful experience. Honestly, if we just had some sort of big, special asexual meetup without the parade, I might even enjoy that more. The parade is a cool experience, sure (as well as a hot, crowded and tiring one), but it's not a good place to really talk to people and get to know them. That's not the point of a parade, I know, but it's just so rare that this many asexuals get together...I wish we could get even more mileage out of it, somehow.

I want to thank everyone who participated, as well as everyone who was there in spirit! I was very proud to march (and skip and dance and whistle incessantly!) with all of you.

More Zine Action!

More zines! But here's one you (yes, you) can get involved with. A zine about asexuality and feminism is in the works, and you can see all the information about it here. Submissions are being accepted until July 16th. I submitted something myself; I think it'll be a very interesting zine. If you're not familiar with zines, here is article about them. Wow, I said the word "zine" too many times in my head, and now it's starting to sound really weird.

PRIDE APPROACHES. Oh my goodness. If you're just hearing about this now, which I somehow doubt, all the info is here. Expect a recap! And if you really like to plan your blog-reading schedule in advance, more thoughts on romance after that.

Sigh...Binaries.

Binaries? Yeah, I'm generally not a fan. That's one thing I've come to learn since identifying as asexual. For a while now, I've been wondering if I really had an "affectional orientation" that I would be able to coax out with enough thought. A lot of other asexuals seem to know so easily whether they're romantic or aromantic (and beyond that, which gender(s) they are attracted to if they are romantic). But I recently realized that the reason I couldn't figure it out was because the romantic/aromantic thing is a binary I don't fit into. I'm neither, both, or somewhere in the middle. I am, for lack of a better word, grayromantic. No, it's not a term I'm looking to popularize, but I think it's one that will make sense for those who are familiar with asexuality.

Like the gender binary in mainstream society, the romantic/aromantic binary seems to be intuitive for most people in the asexual community. That it informs so much of our internal dialogue on asexuality can make people who don't fit into it feel like their experiences are even further outside of the ordinary. Just like there is no clear demarcation at the end of "asexual" and the beginning of "sexual", there is no such clear line for affectional orientation, either.

It's a uniquely asexual issue, I know, and maybe not a very important one. But it gets me thinking about our labels-- do we define ourselves by a dictionary definition, how we feel about ourselves, or what most affects our lives? I think that is an important question, for any orientation (or other label), although it might only be able to be answered by the individual. If you went by what asexuals would call a "dictionary definition", I guess I would be hetero-romantic, since I experience romantic attraction towards men (I also like long walks on the beach, candlelight, etc). However, I don't feel hetero-romantic, probably because my romantic attraction towards men has not influenced my life very much. I'd like to be in a romantic relationship, but not just for the sake of being in one. If I ever had a hetero-romantic card, then it has truly expired due to lack of use.

So since I don't try to date men and never really have, what real difference do my fleeting attractions make? Putting a romantic orientation in front of "asexual" would also just sound strange to me, when the "asexual" part is so much more important to my life. The most accurate term for me, I think, would be something describing my confusion with the whole concept of "romance". Now, what was I again?

This post has a second and perhaps even third part, so stay tuned.

(Also, one week until the Pride Parade! Eeee!)