Why Aromantic and Asexual Folks Belong at Pride
We deserve to celebrate our identities too.
Imagine you’re attending your first Pride parade. You’re excited to see people openly expressing their identities. You can’t wait to experience a community that embraces you when the rest of the world thinks you’re either broken or “haven’t met the right person yet.”
But your joy is soon interrupted by the noise of exclusionists in the LGBTQ+ community.
“You’re basically just straight.”
“Asexuals aren’t oppressed.”
“Why would you want to celebrate being alone forever?”
“‘Demisexual?’ So you just don’t like one-night stands?”
“Asexuals already have their own community.”
Suddenly, the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t feel so welcoming anymore.
Millions of asexual and aromantic people experience exclusion from the LGBTQ+ community when June rolls around. Sure, it happens all year round, but it’s especially volatile during Pride month.
As someone who is openly aromantic asexual online, I’ve experienced my fair share of exclusion from LGBTQ+ spaces. At this point, I’m used to it. I have my responses ready for questions and statements like, “But you don’t face discrimination!” or “Why would you want to celebrate not having feelings?”
It’s easy to let these statements from a loud minority dissuade me, but today I’d like to unpack why aromantic, asexual, and aromantic asexual people belong in LGBTQ+ celebrations.
But first, if you’re unfamiliar with aromanticism or asexuality, I’ll briefly go over what they mean.
Defining Aromanticism and Asexuality
Broadly speaking, asexual refers to someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction. Likewise, aromantic refers to someone who doesn’t experience romantic attraction. Alloromantic and allosexual are those who are not on either the aromantic or asexual spectrum, respectively.
When it comes to asexuality, it’s important to understand the split attraction model. Basically, those on the asexual spectrum use this model to identify their romantic attraction. For most people, their romantic and sexual orientations match. For example, I’m aromantic and asexual; I don’t experience romantic or sexual attraction. However, lots of asexual people are heteroromantic, homoromantic, biromantic, etc. They still pursue romantic relationships no matter where they land on the asexual spectrum.
Demiromantic/sexual is an often misunderstood identity on the spectrum, referring to people who need an emotional bond to experience romantic or sexual attraction to another person.
GLAAD explains why the spectrum is crucial for aromantic and asexual people.
It allows them to cast light on experiences that would otherwise be ignored or scorned, and helps them to find communities that they identify with. If someone finds a microlabel that fits the experience they haven’t been able to qualify or quantify, it can alleviate feelings of brokenness or unbelonging.
Now that you have a better understanding of aromanticism and asexuality, let’s delve into our exclusion from Pride.
Gatekeeping Pride
At the beginning of this article, I included arguments that I’ve actually heard used for excluding aromantic and asexual people from Pride.
The most common argument is, “Well, aromantic and asexual people don’t experience discrimination, so they can’t participate in Pride!” However, this idea orients the LGBTQ+ community around their systemic oppression rather than a celebration of their identities.
Bisexual and pansexual people in “straight-passing” relationships may face this invalidation. LBGTQ+ individuals do not have to look and act a certain way or maintain a certain relationship (and in the case of aromantic people, any relationship) to belong at Pride.
Plus, some aromantic and asexual people experience discrimination in the form of amatonormativity. Rice University Professor of Philosophy Elizabeth Brake coined this term to describe the social expectation that every individual wants a romantic monogamous relationship — often with the expectation of sexual intimacy. Amatonormativity can lead to feelings of isolation and alienation for aromantic and asexual individuals.
Though aromantic and asexual people don’t need to face discrimination to partake in Pride celebrations, it’s worth mentioning that we face unique social expectations compared to other LGBTQ+ folks. It can be addressed through wider acceptance of our identities and differences.
I’ve also heard, “Asexual and aromantic people can make their own community. Why can’t they be happy with that?” This invalidates aromantic allosexual and aromantic allosexual people as well as transgender and non-binary people on the spectrum. This argument overlooks intersectional identities to gatekeep aromantic and asexual orientations.
No, heteroromantic asexuals aren’t “basically straight.” No, most people aren’t demisexual. Yes, people of all genders can identify on the spectrum. Exclusionists can’t pick and choose specific parts of our identity to fit their distorted image of who “belongs” in the community. Why go through all the effort to exclude when you could just accept aro and ace people? Only we get to decide whether we want to be a part of the broader LGBTQ+ community.
I know I do.
I’m aromantic, but I share similar experiences with alloromantic aces. I’m asexual, but I share similar experiences with aromantic allosexuals. I may identify differently from other LGBTQ+ individuals, but I can promise you that my experiences are not heterosexual.
The online campaign This is What Asexual Looks Like encourages people on the aromantic/asexual spectrum to celebrate themselves and their queerness. UK-based model and asexual activist Yasmin Benoit describes the purpose of This is What Asexual Looks Like:
When you’re battling these stereotypes, being unapologetically YOU is a triumph and a statement. My modeling has always been an instrument for change. Whenever I do a photoshoot as an openly asexual person, I expand people’s ideas about who we are.
I don’t experience romantic or sexual attraction, but that doesn’t mean I lack identity. We deserve to celebrate our identities too.
Perhaps the most famous slogan in the LGBTQ+ community is that “love is love.” In my case, it’s valid for that to include self-love.
But I acknowledge there are millions of LGBTQ+ individuals who already welcome me. Despite any exclusion I experience within the community, I refuse to let it discourage me from celebrating Pride every year.
And if you’re aromantic, asexual, or aromantic sexual, you shouldn’t let it either.
