An Academic Look At The Systemic Oppression of Asexuality
The Statistics Behind Asexual Discrimination
Little is known about asexuality, and even less is known about the discrimination that asexuals face. Few studies have been conducted evaluating the effect of compulsory sexuality, and those that have been done are qualitative rather than quantitative. According to a submission to the Royal Commission into Victoria’s Mental Health System, the study of asexuality is “thirty years behind other sexual minorities”. This paper is not meant to be a complete guide to compulsory sexuality, but rather the tip of the iceberg and the beginning of the field of Asexual Studies.All sources will be uploaded under the Works Cited page.
Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
What is Systemic Oppression?
Understanding The Framework Of Oppression
A common misconception is that institutional oppression (which is also sometimes called systemic oppression) is merely laws against a certain group of people. In reality it is often much more complex than that; institutional oppression takes form in various systems within society. This could be the legal system, the medical system, the educational system, and more. In order to understand the framework of oppression, many activists use “The Four I’s Of Oppression” by The Chinook Fund. The definition given of institutional oppression is “the idea that one group is better than another group and has the right to control the other gets embedded in the institutions of the society--the laws, the legal system and police practice, the education system and schools, hiring policies, public policies, housing development, media images, political power, etc”. The full document is attached below.Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
THE FOUR "I's" OF OPPRESSIONIdeological Oppression
First, any oppressive system has at its core the idea that one group is somehow better than another, and in some measure has the right to control the other group. This idea gets elaborated in many ways-- more intelligent, harder working, stronger, more capable, more noble, more deserving, more advanced, chosen, normal, superior, and so on. The dominant group holds this idea about itself. And, of course, the opposite qualities are attributed to the other group--stupid, lazy, weak, incompetent, worthless, less deserving, backward, abnormal, inferior, and so on.Institutional Oppression
The idea that one group is better than another group and has the right to control the other gets embedded in the institutions of the society--the laws, the legal system and police practice, the education system and schools, hiring policies, public policies, housing development, media images, political power, etc. When a woman makes two thirds of what a man makes in the same job, it is institutionalized sexism. When one out of every four African-American young men is currently in jail, on parole, or on probation, it is institutionalized racism. When psychiatric institutions and associations “diagnose” transgender people as having a mental disorder, it is institutionalized gender oppression and transphobia. Institutional oppression does not have to be intentional. For example, if a policy unintentionally reinforces and creates new inequalities between privileged and non-privileged groups, it is considered institutional oppression.Interpersonal Oppression
The idea that one group is better than another and has the right to control the other, which gets structured into institutions, gives permission and reinforcement for individual members of the dominant group to personally disrespect or mistreat individuals in the oppressed group. Interpersonal racism is what white people do to people of color up close--the racist jokes, the stereotypes, the beatings and harassment, the threats, etc. Similarly, interpersonal sexism is what men do to women-- the sexual abuse and harassment, the violence directed at women, the belittling or ignoring of women's thinking, the sexist jokes, etc.
Most people in the dominant group are not consciously oppressive. They have internalized the negative messages about other groups, and consider their attitudes towards the other group quite normal.
No "reverse racism". These kinds of oppressive attitudes and behaviors are backed up by the institutional arrangements. This helps to clarify the confusion around what some claim to be "reverse racism". People of color can have prejudices against and anger towards white people, or individual white people. They can act out those feelings in destructive and hurtful ways towards whites. But in almost every case, this acting out will be severely punished. The force of the police and the courts, or at least a gang of whites getting even, will come crashing down on those people of color. The individual prejudice of black people, for example, is not backed up by the legal system and prevailing white institutions. The oppressed group, therefore, does not have the power to enforce its prejudices, unlike the dominant group.
For example, the racist beating of Rodney King was carried out by the institutional force of the police, and upheld by the court system. This would not have happened if King had been white and the officers black.
A simple definition of racism, as a system, is: RACISM = PREJUDICE + POWER.
Therefore, with this definition of the systemic nature of racism, people of color cannot be racist. The same formula holds true for all forms of oppression. The dominant group has its mistreatment of the target group embedded in and backed up by society's institutions and other forms of power.Internalized Oppression
The fourth way oppression works is within the groups of people who suffer the most from the mistreatment. Oppressed people internalize the ideology of inferiority, they see it reflected in the institutions, they experience disrespect interpersonally from members of the dominant group, and they eventually come to internalize the negative messages about themselves. If we have been told we are stupid, worthless, abnormal, and have been treated as if we were all our lives, then it is not surprising that we would come to believe it. This makes us feel bad.
Oppression always begins from outside the oppressed group, but by the time it gets internalized, the external oppression need hardly be felt for the damage to be done. If people from the oppressed group feel bad about themselves, and because of the nature of the system, do not have the power to direct those feelings back toward the dominant group without receiving more blows, then there are only two places to dump those feelings--on oneself and on the people in the same group. Thus, people in any target group have to struggle hard to keep from feeling heavy feelings of powerlessness or despair. They often tend to put themselves and others down, in ways that mirror the oppressive messages they have gotten all their lives. Acting out internalized oppression runs the gamut from passive powerlessness to violent aggression. It is important to understand that some of the internalized patterns of behavior originally developed to keep people alive--they had real survival value.
On the way to eliminating institutional oppression, each oppressed group has to undo the internalized beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors that stem from the oppression so that it can build unity among people in its group, support its leaders, feel proud of its history, contributions, and potential, develop the strength to challenge patterns that hold the group back, and organize itself into an effective force for social change.Internalized Privilege
Likewise, people who benefit the most from these systems internalize privilege. Privileged people involuntarily accept stereotypes and false assumptions about oppressed groups made by dominant culture. Internalized privilege includes acceptance of a belief in the inherent inferiority of the oppressed group as well as the inherent superiority or normalcy of one’s own privileged group. Internalized privilege creates an unearned sense of entitlement in members of the privileged group, and can be expressed as a denial of the existence of oppression and as paternalism.It should be clear that none of these four aspects of oppression can exist separately. As the diagram [above] suggests, each is completely mixed up with the others. It is crucial at see any oppression as a system. It should also be clear that trying to challenge oppression in any of the four aspects will affect the other three.”
What Is Compulsory Sexuality?
The Systemic Privileging of Allosexuality
Compulsory sexuality (also call amanormativity or sexusociety) is "the assumption that all people are sexual and to describe the social norms and practices that both marginalize various forms of nonsexuality and compel people to experience themselves as desiring subjects, take up sexual identities, and engage in sexual activity" (Gupta). Several scholars have begun to take an in-depth look into this field of study.All sources will be uploaded under the Works Cited page.Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
Exploring the Experiences of Heterosexual and Asexual Transgender People (The University of Tampa And Vanderbilt University)
“Asexual organizing also presents a challenge to asexual discrimination. Researchers across fields have provided evidence for “asexphobia” or “anti- asexual bias/prejudice” such that asexuals are understood as “deficient,” “less human, and disliked.”28 Asexphobia exists at the level of attitudes that have negative effects on asexual people such as when they are interrogated and asked intrusive questions about their bodies and sexual lives, or when they are presented with “denial narratives” to undermine the validity of their asexual- ity.29 In figure 0.2, from the zine Taking the Cake, Maisha indicates the many ways in which asexuality can be undermined. For example, people might sug- gest that an ace person is repressed, closeted, incapable of obtaining sex from others, or in an immature phase. These dismissive comments are informed by ableist ideas, such as that disability prevents the capacity for sex and that ability rests on an enjoyment of and desire for sex as well as by compulsory sexuality, which suggests that sex is necessary, liberatory, and integral to hap- piness and well-being. Discrimination can also take on the form of social and sexual exclusion, including in queer contexts: through “conversion” practices in medical and clinical environments to encourage asexuals to have sex, with unwanted and coerced sex in partner contexts, through the misdiagnosis of sexual desire disorders in people who are asexual, and with invisibility, toxic attention, or the fetishization of asexual identity.31 Recognizing discrimina- tion is important because it refuses to see individual acts against asexuals as incidental, providing a systemic view on patterns of “dislike” against asexuals.“
Crisis and safety: The asexual in sexusociety (American Psychological Association)
"The ‘sexual world’ is for asexuals very much akin to what patriarchy is for feminists
and heteronormativity for LGBTQ populations, in the sense that it constitutes the
oppressive force against which some sort of organizing and rebellion must take 4
place.To be quite a bit more specific, what are sexusociety’s favoured repetitions? Despite the diversity of feminist articulations on this topic (in other words the topic of what patriarchy ‘wants’ us to do), most feminists would likely give a similar answer: coital sex, sex with a purpose (be it reproduction or male orgasm), heterosexual and heteronormative sex, sex within marriage or coupledom, the importance of two, and a sexuality that amounts to little more than the sum of these. Gayle Rubin deems this a ‘hierarchical system of sexual value’, outlining textually and pictorially which acts are privileged and which collectively feared and despised (2006 [1984]: 529). Most relevant for this discussion of asexuality, however, is the favoured repetition of sex, understood mostly in a coital and heteronormative sense, and the compulsion to repeat sexually, as opposed to say intellectually (though I am not saying that the two do not overlap and interlace).These snippets of our cultural necessity to have sex, most prefer- ably heterosexually and coitally, are relevant to this discussion of asexuality because it is against such normative scripts of sexual repetition that pathologies of non-sex are constructed.In a certain sense, the absence of sexual ‘urges’ becomes more problematic
than an overabundance of them, as is strangely crystallized by a triad of sexologists in 1998 who ‘plead for the introduction of a category on excessive (or hyperactive) sexual desire’, whereas the addition of new and varied sexual lack pathologies does not need to be pleaded for (Vroege et al., 2001: 239). And as Gavey suggests, the problem may not lie in disordered women, so much as in a lack of interest in the sex that is being repeated as ‘normal’, ‘the kind of sex on offer’ (2005: 112). Leonore Tiefer reminds us that we should be wary of regarding the DSM as a neutral source indexing reality, but remember instead that it is itself a cultural production invested in a gendered and heterosexist system (1995: 97–102).This impetus to pathologize those who are not sexual enough, or who do not repeat sexuality faithfully to ‘the norm’, is indicative of which repetitions are favoured by sexusociety. But it also, and more relevantly, embodies sexusociety’s interest in maintaining a society that repeats along sexual lines.David Jay is subsequently coerced to reveal details of his asexuality, he is positioned as an object of sexual lack and is altogether bewildering for the hosts (Jay, 2007b). He must disclose details of his non-sexual past (‘do you masturbate?’) so that the hosts and the audience may assess to what extent his ‘non’-sexuality is ‘true’ (and of course, faithful repetition is impossible and any detail from the past may be fished out as counterevidence to his claims).It also demonstrates sexusociety’s employ- ment of the confession as a means to correct incorrect repetition. So while David Jay confesses absence, the hosts strive to reconfigure absence into a sexual presence that resembles the ideal, in this case, the sexual ideal. Improper sexual repetitions (or in the case of asexuality, the paucity of sexual repetitions) are remedied with the guidance of other sexual subjects who are more faithful to the norms of sexual acting (presumably the hosts of The View). The confession is thus one of those very special moments within sexusociety when wrongs may be righted, when faulty repetitions may be discouraged or made to appear fraudulent, and when difference or absence may be permutated into a correct presence. Sex, and now also its absence, ‘has to be put into words’ (Foucault, 1990 [1978]: 32).Asexuality would do well to recognize that there is no vacation away from sexusocial discourse; even the micro safe space of the asexual body is in fact embedded within sexusociety. "
Lessons from bisexual erasure for asexual erasure (University of Amsterdam)
"Bisexual erasure is undoubtedly powerful; however, certain points made within this essay could lead one to conclude that asexual erasure must be even more oppressive. Asexuality does not stop at changing the rules of the game of sexuality as bisexuality does, but broadly refuses to even play the game. It is not that sex is undermined because the asexual is simply sex blind (a blindness which, incidentally, is greater than that sex blindness found in bisexuals); rather, sex is undermined since the private erotic realm that produces and sustains it does not exist for the asexual. And it is not so much monogamy that is threatened by asexuality (though the sexual dynamics within it are), but instead intimate relationships in general – a threat presented most acutely by the aromantic asexual. Such is the more important destabilising power of asexuality for the norms allosexuality would have preserved, and consequently greater is the erasure asexuality ought to receive."
Asexual (GLOBAL ENCYCLOPEDIA OF LESBIAN, GAY, BISEXUAL, TRANSGENDER, AND QUEER HISTORY)
“Asexual organizing also presents a challenge to asexual discrimination. Researchers across fields have provided evidence for “asexphobia” or “anti- asexual bias/prejudice” such that asexuals are understood as “deficient,” “less human, and disliked.”28 Asexphobia exists at the level of attitudes that have negative effects on asexual people such as when they are interrogated and asked intrusive questions about their bodies and sexual lives, or when they are presented with “denial narratives” to undermine the validity of their asexual- ity.29 In figure 0.2, from the zine Taking the Cake, Maisha indicates the many ways in which asexuality can be undermined. For example, people might sug- gest that an ace person is repressed, closeted, incapable of obtaining sex from others, or in an immature phase. These dismissive comments are informed by ableist ideas, such as that disability prevents the capacity for sex and that ability rests on an enjoyment of and desire for sex as well as by compulsory sexuality, which suggests that sex is necessary, liberatory, and integral to hap- piness and well-being. Discrimination can also take on the form of social and sexual exclusion, including in queer contexts: through “conversion” practices in medical and clinical environments to encourage asexuals to have sex, with unwanted and coerced sex in partner contexts, through the misdiagnosis of sexual desire disorders in people who are asexual, and with invisibility, toxic attention, or the fetishization of asexual identity.31 Recognizing discrimina- tion is important because it refuses to see individual acts against asexuals as incidental, providing a systemic view on patterns of “dislike” against asexuals.“
Asexual Erotics
"Researchers across fields have provided evidence for “asexphobia” (Kim 2014) or “anti-asexual bias/prejudice” such that asexuals are understood as “deficient,” “less human, and disliked” (MacInnis and Hodson 2012, 740). Asexphobia exists at the level of attitudes that have negative effects on asexual people when they are interrogated and asked intrusive questions about their bodies and sexual lives, or when they are presented with “denial narratives” to undermine the validity of their asexuality (MacNeela and Murphy 2015). Discrimination can also take the form of social and sexual exclusion, including in queer contexts; through “conver- sion” practices in medical and clinical environments to encourage asexuals to have sex; with unwanted and coerced sex in partner contexts; through the misdiagnosis of sexual desire disorders in people who are asexual; and with invisibility and toxic attention or the fetishization of asexual identity (Ginoza et al. 2014; Przybylo 2014; Chasin 2015; Cerankowski 2014). Recognizing discrimi- nation is important because it refuses to see individual acts against asexuals as incidental, providing a systemic view on patterns of “dislike” against asexuals.Third, queer and feminist research definitions of asexuality also place asexuality in direct dialogue with larger power structures and patterns of injustice. Devel- oping the important term compulsory sexuality by drawing on the work of the legal scholar Elizabeth F. Emens (2014), Kristina Gupta (2015) elaborates on the ways in which compulsory sexuality is a system that encourages some people to have sex, even while banning marginalized groups from sexual expression through the process of “desexualization.” “Sexusociety,” or a society organized around sex (Przybylo 2011), partakes in desexualization, as Kim’s work explores, to render marginalized groups such as people with disabilities, lesbians and transgender people, children and older adults, people of size, and some racialized groups as “asexual” by default—misusing the term asexuality in the process. For example, transgender people have historically needed to feign asexuality and demonstrate disgust for homosexual sex in order to have their surgeries approved and their trans identities confirmed as “valid” by medicine (Valentine 2007). More broadly, desexualization ranges from discourses around people with disabilities not being capable of sex or not being desirable to eugenics-based initiatives for managing a population through controlling reproduction via methods of coerced sterilization.
Desexualization and compulsory sexuality are also linked to hypersexualization, or the branding of some groups and most especially gay men and racialized groups as excessively sexual and lascivious and thus in need of population management. Treatment of people with AIDS in the 1980s, for example, and the pivoting of the “AIDS epidemic” as “God’s punishment for being gay” demonstrate how the deployment of hypersexualization, in combination with homophobia, can have lethal effects on marginalized groups. Ianna Hawkins Owen (2014) discusses how compulsory sexuality has uneven racial histories, such that whiteness has tended to emulate an “asexuality-as-ideal” as demonstrative of a form of innocence, moral control, and restraint, whereas black people have often been positioned as hypersexual so as to justify chattel slavery, lynching, and other instruments of racism. Hypersexualization and desexualization have thus been used historically and are in the present used as forms of social control and oppression, toward the maintenance of a white, able-bodied, hetero- patriarchal nation-state. Feminist and queer research on asexuality thus invites examinations of the intersectional histories and present-day realities of compulsory sexuality."
The Violence of Heteronormative Language Towards the Queer Community
“ Asexuality is a spectrum that is characterized by a lack of sexual attraction to other people; asexuals might still experience romantic attraction to others, or they might not, in which case they would also be aromantic. In attempting to “explain” their sexuality in ways that fit heteronormative standards, asexuals can unintentionally contribute to their own erasure.
Common ways of trying to make asexuality accessible to a heterosexual audience include saying that “asexuals are just like everyone else, but without the sex” or explaining asexuality in terms of food— for example, some people like and crave cake, while others do not. This metaphor is problematic as it implies that asexuality is only a minor aspect of one’s personality, as easily removed or overlooked as one’s food preferences. Similarly problematic are discussions of sexual attraction in society at large (particularly in the context of masculinity) that assert that attraction is a necessary part of the human experience.
These kinds of definitions put asexuals in an uncomfortable spot. Under heteronormativity, they would not be considered “normal” and might not easily fit into other heteronormative categories (for example, an asexual could be transgender and homoromantic, and thus would not easily fit into the heteronormative mold). For this reason, asexuals feel the need to liken themselves to heterosexuals and prove that they are “normal” and can fit in. The implications of such statements are that everyone else in the queer community is somehow abnormal or not like “everyone else.”
Such analogies present asexuality as a watered- down version of another sexuality—heterosexuality lite, so to speak—erasing asexual experiences. This
is a form of heteronormative language violence, as it can cause asexuals to be pushed away from the broader queer community because their deviance from the heteronormative standard may not be as immediately obvious as, for example, a homosexual transgender person’s might. In addition, as a result of the language above, “gate-keeping” within the asexual community can arise, where some are excluded because they do not seem “queer enough”—for example, a heteroromantic demisexual (a sexuality on the asexual spectrum where one can feel sexual attraction to another ONLY after a strong emotional bond has been formed) could “pass” as straight, and thus might be seen as not needing the support of the community (Asexual 1). After all, if they were “just like everyone else” then why would they need a special community for support?
Though isolated from the LGBTQIA community (a community perhaps best suited to understand the experience of living in a world that sets a certain pattern of behavior and feelings that they do not share as “normal”) asexuals will not necessarily find the support they need in the broader heteronormative context of society.
Heteronormative language is violent, as it diminishes the identity of bisexuals and asexuals while limiting their ability to find support within the communities that are best suited to their experiences. Heteronormative language also denies asexuals the ability to express their experiences without being questioned, and invalidates the asexual identity—a form of violence. Similar to the argument that bisexuals are “confused” or “halfway in the closet,” the oversimplification of the asexual identity through cute analogies implies that asexuality is a quirk or a phase, rather than a valid identity and a major part of a person’s personality. Language that trivializes asexuality limits the ability of asexuals to express themselves, their experiences and their sexuality without fear of repercussions, whether that is not being taken seriously or being treated as an outsider. It normalizes the idea that heterosexuality is “normal” and preferable to any other orientation, to the point where those who identify differently must prove how like heterosexuals they are to be afforded respect. Thus, the erasure of asexuals and bisexuals is a form of heteronormative language violence. (Asexual 1)”
A mystery wrapped in an enigma – asexuality: a virtual discussion
“My general impression from the U.S. context is that the negativity directed at asexual individuals is similar in some ways to the negativity directed at other sexual (and gender) minorities: asexual individuals, like other sexual minorities, may be perceived as mentally or physically ill, asexual individuals may feel alienated in social settings organized to facilitate heterosexual coupling, and asexual individuals may be denied legal and/or social recognition of their most important relationships. On the other hand, to a perhaps greater extent than other sexual minorities, asexual individuals are often denied ‘epistemic authority’ in regards to their own (a)sexuality. In other words, asexual individuals may be met with the reaction that they can’t really know that they are asexual – maybe they haven’t met the right person yet, maybe they are ‘late bloomers,’ maybe they are unconsciously repressing their sexual desires, maybe there is a physical cause of their asexuality that simply hasn’t been found yet.”
Towards a Historical Materialist Concept of Asexuality and Compulsory Sexuality
Theoretical Issues in the Study of Asexuality
“Simultaneously, the unquestioned presumption of the sexual norm—of sexuality as the norm—dictates that asexual people will very frequently pass as sexual people in everyday lives whether they want to or not. Asexual people therefore live an analogous biculturalism to the one Brown described of lesbians and gay men, and so incorporating the perspectives of asexual people into the domain of sexuality research could have corresponding benefits, as would engaging in alternative forms of inquiry, including qualitative investigations (as is already beginning). This is particularly the case with research related to sexual behavior, identity, and intimate relationships, since these (for anyone) are complex phenomena where subjective experiences are meaningful. Exploring asexual people’s subjective realities will help researchers come to a better understanding not only of asexuality, but of sexuality more generally. Doing so through the use of qualitative methodologies will permit researchers to begin exploring the pervasiveness of the sexualnormativity12 that would otherwise remain invisible in sexuality-related research.”
Why sexual people don’t get asexuality and why it matters (A personal essay written by Mark Carrigan, an allosexual researcher of asexuality)
“ I had three initial aims with my asexuality research: mapping out community in a ideographically adequate way, understanding the role the internet played in the formation of the community and exploring what the reception of asexuality reveals about sexual culture. There’s still more I want to write in relation to the first two points but I’ve basically drawn my conclusions at this point. Which means that my interest in asexuality has basically transmuted into an interest in how sexual people react to asexuality. This sounds much more obscure than it actually is.
In essence I’m arguing that the reactions of sexual people to asexuality reveal the architectonic principle of contemporary sexual culture, namely the sexual assumption: the usually unexamined presupposition that sexual attraction is both universal (everyone ‘has it’) and uniform (it’s fundamentally the same thing in all instances) such that its absence must be explicable in terms of a distinguishable pathology. This is instantiated at the level of both the cultural system and socio-cultural interaction: it’s entailed propositionally, even if not asserted outright, within prevailing lay and academic discourses pertaining to sexuality but it’s also reproduced by individuals in interaction (talking about sex, either in the abstract or in terms of their own experience) and intraaction (making sense of their own experience through internal conversation).
Until the asexual community came along, the ideational relationship (the logical structure internal to academic and lay discourses about sex) and patterns of socio-cultural interaction (the causal structure stemming from thought and talk about sex) reinforced one another. Or to drop the critical realist terminology: the sexual assumption got reproduced at the level of ideas because nothing conflicted with it at the level of experience. But when something comes along which empirically repudiates it (namely the asexual community) the underlying principle suddenly becomes contested. This doesn’t mean discourse ‘makes’ sexual people not get ‘asexuality’ but it does mean that, given the centrality of the sexual assumption to our prevailing ways of understand sexuality, being confronted with asexuality immediate invites explanation. One such explanation is to drop the ideational commitment but, given that its usually tacit, few people (including myself) can do this immediately – though many, it seems, do so once they’ve reflected upon it. Instead the usual response is to evade the logical conflict by explaining away asexuality: its a hormone deficiency, the person was sexually abused, they’re lying, they’re gay but repressed, they’ve just not met the right person yet (etc).
The empirical evidence of quite how pervasive, indeed near universal, this kind of reaction is seems increasingly conclusive. What I am suggesting is that the sexual assumption is what explains this being a ‘kind’ of reaction i.e. all the explanations, in spite of their superficial differences in content, involve a reassertion of the uniformity and/or universality of sexual attraction. I’m not saying people are deliberately or consciously defending the sexual assumption (though I’m not categorically saying no one will ever be doing this) but rather that it is this, as the foundational assumption ‘holding together’ the conceptual architecture of the sexual culture which has emerged from the mid/late 20th century onwards, which asexuality renders problematic. The precise content of any given individual’s attempts to explain away asexuality varies depending on the specifics of their personal and intellectual history within this sexual culture (i.e. it’s not a homogenous thing) but the shared form of the response is explained by the architectonic principle of that culture and the logical relation of contradiction in which it stands to the empirical observation of asexual individuals who are ‘normal’ (i.e. non pathological). Logical relations don’t force people to act (some people don’t try and explain it away) but everyone who has not experienced what David Jay calls the ‘head-clicky thing’ has the same initial reaction. The above is my first attempt to offer a convoluted social theorists explanation of what I mean when, in interviews, I talk about sexual people not ‘getting’ asexuality. If you follow my chain of reasoning then, I ask of you, test it out: go and read the comments on the Guardian article I linked to and think about the reactions of people on there and what they have in common. Or do the same with pretty much any news article which has comments that I’ve encountered. There is something really fucking interesting happening there.”
A research programme for queer studies
“But it is (or at least, it should be) clear that an asexual person’s relationship, both logical and existential, with the categories of sexuality and gender is deeply different from that of, say, a bisexual person: a bisexual person could find it difficult to affirm their own definition of their sexuality in a num- ber of social situations and relationships, and could as a consequence be a victim of marginalization, discrimination or violence; but for an asexual person the category of sexuality is simply not relevant: to compel an asexual person to position themselves along this category is, quite simply, nothing but a new form of oppression: and this form of oppression is even more insidious than the one which dominant heteronormativity exerts towards sexual minorities. First of all, because it is paradoxically justified as a form of liberation; but most of all because the “orthodox” and the “deviants”, in the field of sexuality and gender as in all others, share at least an orientation towards the world and a definition of priorities; both the inquisitor and the heretic place faith and dogma at the core of their self-definition. But that a person for whom the category of sexuality has no relationship to their lived experience and self-perception should be offered, as a form of liberation, the possibility to “integrate” in, and “be represented” by, a movement defined by the centrality and productivity of the category of sexuality and of all experiences (both positive and negative) which arise from it, is more or less equivalent to offering a person with no interest whatsoever in soccer the possibility to “integrate in society” by “coming out” as a supporter of some team, and of attending their games every Sunday.“
Sexual Violence
Rape And Sexual Coercion
Although there has been numerous qualitative studies and a wide berth of anecdotal evidence illustrating that asexuals are disproportionally affected by sexual violence, there has yet to be a quantitative study that has evaluated exactly how prevalent it is within the community. The Asexual Census provides some clue, but there needs to be a peer-reviewed study before any conclusions can be drawn.All sources will be uploaded under the Works Cited page.Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
Change the course:
National report on sexual assault and sexual
harassment at Australian universities 2017
"When incidents occurring while travelling to or from university are excluded:
• 19% of students who identified as straight/heterosexual
• 34% of students who identified as gay/lesbian/homosexual
• 36% of students who identified as bisexual
• 38% of students who identified as asexual, and
• 36% of students who identified as undecided/not sure/questioning.
were sexually harassed in a university setting in 2016."
"Students who identified as bisexual or asexual were the most likely to have been sexually assaulted in 2015 and/or 2016.
Students who identified as bisexual (18%) or asexual (15%) were more likely than students who identified as gay/lesbian/
homosexual (8%) or heterosexual (6%) to have been sexually assaulted in 2015 and/or 2016.
Those who identified as bisexual (3.8%) were also more likely than those who identified as heterosexual (1.5%) or gay/
lesbian/homosexual (1.4%) to have been sexually assaulted in a university setting in 2015 and/or 2016."
A Note On The Small Sample Size:
"The following caveats apply to the National Survey results reported in this report:
1. The survey data has been derived from a sample of the target population who were motivated to respond, and
who made an autonomous decision to do so. It may not necessarily be representative of the entire university
student population.
2. People who had been sexually assaulted and/or sexually harassed may have been more likely to respond to this
survey than those who had not. This may in turn have impacted on the accuracy of the results.
3. People who had been sexually assaulted or sexually harassed may have chosen not to respond to the survey
because they felt it would be too difficult or traumatic. This may also have impacted on the accuracy of the results.
An independent analysis of the data was conducted in order to assess whether any ‘response bias’ existed in relation to
the survey, by examining the relationship between university response rates and the extent to which people said they had
experienced or witnessed sexual assault or sexual harassment.
‘Response bias’ can occur where people who had been sexually assaulted or sexually harassed are more likely to respond
to the survey than those who had not. Conversely, ‘non-response bias’ can occur where people who had been sexually
assaulted or sexually harassed chose not to respond to the survey because they felt it would be too difficult or traumatic.
Either of these can impact on the accuracy of the results.
This analysis found that universities with a higher proportion of survey respondents who said they had witnessed sexual
harassment at university in 2016 had higher response rates. This indicates that survey respondents who witnessed sexual
harassment in 2016 may have been more likely to respond to the National Survey.
An examination of the responses from men and women revealed that for men, there was a positive association between
response rates and experiencing or witnessing sexual assault or sexual harassment.
This indicates that men who had experienced or witnessed sexual assault or sexual harassment may have been more likely
to complete the survey. Therefore, caution must be taken in relation to our results which are projected to the population of
male students. These may be an overestimation of the rates of sexual assault and sexual harassment experienced by male
university students.
No such ‘response bias’ was identified in relation to women and we are therefore more confident in projecting these results
to the population of female university students."
National LGBT Survey 2017 UK
The link above leads to the interactive data set. In the PDF library I have also included the analysis provided by researchers that the quotes arise from.
In the past 12 months, did you experience any of the following from someone you lived with for any reason?
In the past 12 months, how many family members that you lived with, if any, were you open with about being LGBT?
In the past 12 months, how many people you lived with, if any, were you open with about being LGBT?
Think about the most serious incident in the past 12 months. Which of the following happened to you?
Who was the perpetrator(s) of this most serious incident?
Did you report this most serious incident?
Why did you not report this most serious incident to the police?
In the past 12 months, did you experience any of the following from someone you were not living with because you are LGBT or they thought you were LGBT? For example, from a friend, neighbour, family member you don't live, or a stranger. Please only include incidents that you haven't already told us about in this survey.
In the past 12 months, how many people in the following groups, if any, were you open with about being LGBT - Family members you were not living with?
In the past 12 months, how many people in the following groups, if any, were you open with about being LGBT - Friends you were not living with?
In the past 12 months, how many people in the following groups, if any, were you open with about being LGBT - Neighbours?
Think about the most serious incident in the past 12 months. Which of the following happened to you?
Who was the perpetrator(s) of this most serious incident?
Did you or anyone else report this most serious incident?
Why did you not report this most serious incident to the police?
Have you ever had so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy in an attempt to "cure" you of being LGBT? Have you ever been offered this so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy? (*the study included corrective rape under this section, see note under each table)
Who conducted this so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy?
Who offered this so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy?
ACT Aces: Asexual
Experiences Survey
Handbook of Sexual Assault and Sexual Assault Prevention
The 2015 Asexual Community Census (N = 8663 people on the asexual spectrum, including asexual, demisexual, or graysexual) found similarly alarming rates of lifetime sexual violence victimization among asexual individuals, 43.5% of whom reported rape or sexual assault (Bauer et al., 2017).
2019 Ace Census
A STUDY OF TRENDS OBSERVED IN SELF- IDENTIFIED ‘ASEXUAL’ PEOPLE (A study that took place in India that was presented at the 23rd Congress of the World Association for Sexual Health)
“While 12% of the total reported having a medical/physical condition, 40% reported being diagnosed with mental conditions such as depression/
anxiety/PTSD/personality disorders etc. 15% of all reported a history of sexual abuse with or without PTSD.”
Expanding Use of the Social Reactions Questionnaire among Diverse Women (U.S. Department of Justice)
"To test links between the social reactions from community-based providers and
women’s decisions to report to law enforcement, we focused on a subset of 213 women who had
disclosed the sexual assault to a community-based provider (190, or 89%, of whom had also
disclosed to an informal support person). About half of women (119, 56%) had reported the
sexual assault to law enforcement, while 91 (43%) women had not. Chi-square analyses tested
associations between reporting (yes/no) and demographic as well as sexual assault
characteristics, revealing trends for sexual orientation (such that lesbian/bisexual/asexual were
less likely to have reported) and sexual coercion (such that women whose assaults involved
sexual coercion were less likely to report). Also, a trend suggested that women who reported had
greater fear related to the assault. Given these trends, sexual orientation, sexual coercion, and
fear were included in two binary logistic regression analyses that examined the contributions of
social reactions from 1.) community-based providers, and 2.) informal supports to whether
women had reported the assault to law enforcement."
Corrective Rape: An Extreme Manifestation of
Discrimination and the State’s Complicity in Sexual Violence (Hastings Women's Law Journal)
"Another population that is subjected to corrective rape is asexual
women.52 Asexuality—an identity for a person who does not experience
sexual attraction53—is an emerging concept in our society. Though it has
become increasingly normalized throughout the last few decades to have an
open attitude around sexuality,54 discussion of asexuality has been largely
ignored until recently.55 Research and discourse on asexuality have been
naturally overshadowed by the more prominent and more common sexual orientations—heterosexuality, homosexuality, and bisexuality.56
An unfortunate consequence of this inattention is that we have
overlooked the harm and threats that an asexual person faces. For instance,
one would not expect that an asexual individual would be the target of
prejudice and discrimination.57 After all, asexuality is marked by the absence
of something (i.e., sexual attraction, and often sexual behavior), and has thus
been characterized as “the least visible sexual minority.”58 In addition,
asexual individuals pose no sexual risk, they do not flaunt their participation
in deviant practices, they do not violate religious prohibitions in the way
homosexual or bisexual individuals have been condemned for, and, as a
group, they do not require any kind of costly accommodation.59 Taken
together, these facts would instinctively lead one to conclude that asexual
people would not be the target of animus, hostility, bias, and discrimination.
However, “outgroup hate” plays a central role in human beings’ social
identities.60 In a 2012 study, researchers revealed strikingly strong bias
against asexual people.61 Predictably, attitudes towards homosexual,
bisexual, and asexual people were more negative than attitudes toward
heterosexual people.62 The more groundbreaking result was that within
sexual minorities, asexual people were evaluated most negatively of all
groups, falling behind both homosexual and bisexual people.63 Further, of
all the sexual minority groups studied, asexual people were perceived to be
the least “human;” they were attributed with significantly fewer human
nature traits and were perceived to experience fewer human emotions.64Asexual people are dehumanized by being characterized as both “machine-
like” and “animal-like.”65 Because sex is so much a part of non-asexualpeoples’ lives, and because of the pervasive sexualization of our society,
those who reject sex are viewed as less than or not even human.66
As attention has increased towards asexuality, animosity towards asexual people has increased correspondingly.67 Beyond discrimination, the
most extreme form of this animus is sexual violence designed to eradicate
asexuality.68 Asexual activist Julie Decker reported that sexual harassment
and violence, including corrective rape, is disturbingly familiar to the
asexual community.69 She stated that people who carry out corrective rape
do so because “they believe that they’re just waking us up and that we’ll
thank them for it later.”70 Decker has received death threats and numerous
comments that she “just needs a ‘good raping’”—leading her to conclude
that when some people hear that a person is asexual, they see it as a
challenge.71 In recounting the sexual assault she personally experienced,
Decker said that after speaking extensively about her asexuality with a
friend, he tried to “fix” her by sexually assaulting her.72 She recalled that he
tried to kiss her, and when she rejected his advance, he pushed her against
the door, licked her face, and yelled, “I just want to help you!”73
Similar instances of corrective rape are seen in case law. For example, in
State v. Dutton, the complainant had approached a pastor to discuss her
emotional and psychological issues in counseling, including low self-esteem,
suicidal thoughts, grief over her daughter’s death, and her eating disorder.74
Though she had stated her desire to be asexual and to keep their relationship
platonic, the pastor persisted in discussions about sex, and told her that he
would be “‘working’ with her on her sexuality.”75 He subsequently engaged
in criminal sexual conduct with her multiple times, asserting that this sexual
conduct was “consistent with her treatment” because it would “remove her
inhibitions about sex.”76 He told her that sexual contact would “set her free”
and that he knew that she was “hung up” sexually.77 Though the pastor
claimed he had a right to engage in consensual sexual activity with another
adult, the complainant was a counseling patient unable to withhold consent to
sexual contact by her therapist.78"
The Co-Occurrence of Asexuality and Self-Reported Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Diagnosis and Sexual Trauma Within the Past 12 Months Among U.S. College Students (Archive of Sexual Behavior)
This is one of the few articles I don’t have a full copy of. I’ve linked to the abstract, of someone has access to it I would love the PDF!
“An increasing number of individuals identify as asexual. It is important to understand the relationship between a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder or a history of sexual trauma co-occurs with asexual identity. We aimed to assess whether identification as asexual was associated with greater likelihood for self-reported PTSD diagnosis and history of sexual trauma within the past 12 months. Secondary data analysis was undertaken of a cross-sectional survey of 33,385 U.S. college students (12,148 male, 21,237 female), including 228 self-identified asexual individuals (31 male, 197 female), who completed the 2015-2016 Healthy Minds Study. Measures included assessment of self-report of prior professional diagnosis of PTSD and self-report of prior sexual trauma in the past year. Among non-asexual participants, 1.9% self-reported a diagnosis of PTSD and 2.4% reported a history of sexual trauma in the past 12 months. Among the group identified as asexual, 6.6% self-reported a diagnosis of PTSD and 3.5% reported a history of sexual assault in the past 12 months. Individuals who identified as asexual were more likely to report a diagnosis of PTSD (OR 4.44; 95% CI 2.32, 8.50) and sexual trauma within the past 12 months (OR 2.52; 95% CI 1.20, 5.27), compared to non-asexual individuals. These differences persisted after including sex of the participants in the model, and the interaction between asexual identification and sex was not significant in either case. Asexual identity was associated with greater likelihood of reported PTSD diagnosis and reported sexual trauma within the past 12 months. Implications for future research on asexuality are discussed.“
Report on the AAU Campus Climate Survey on
Sexual Assault and Sexual Misconduct 2017
An important note on this source: The results of the study grouped Asexual, Questioning, and Other together, so take the data with a grain of salt.
A is Not for Ally: Affirming Asexual College Student Narratives (University of Vermont)
It should be noted that some asexual people who want to engage in romantic and/or sexual relationships may also experience difficulty and violence within these relationships, especially if their partner is not asexual. One asexual and heteroromantic-identifying person, Idra, explained her frustration in being unable to be fully honest with her non-asexual partner about her asexuality:
Having sex is something that we do because I succumb to peer pressure and want to be normal, so I go ahead with it. I just wish that I knew how to approach the subject with him and then even know what to say if I did. (McDonnell, Scott, & Dawson, 2017)
The aforementioned misunderstandings that many non-asexual people hold about asexuality, if they even know about it at all, has the potential to cause serious issues in relationships. Such issues often materialize as non-asexual partners becoming frustrated because they do not understand the motivations asexual people may have to engage in sexual behavior, or that some asexual people who do engage in sexual behavior might be comfortable with some sexual acts but not others.
Beyond misunderstanding, asexual people often face intimate partner violence and sexual assault. Instances of corrective rape in which an asexual person is sexually assaulted in an attempt to “fix” or “convert” them are alarmingly common, especially those instances in which cishet people, especially men, see asexuality as a challenge to their ability to seduce (Deutsch, 2018). The violence that asexual people experience related to their identity needs to be taken into consideration when reflecting upon and acting to improve the collegiate experience for asexual
students. Asexual students may enter the college environment already carrying trauma which may be attributed to their asexual identity.
Personal Agency Disavowed: Identity Construction in Asexual Women of Color (American Psychological Association)
“Identifying with a community supports the resolution of disso- nance (Carrigan, 2011), loneliness (Scherrer, 2008), and identity- related challenges (MacNeela & Murphy, 2015). Asexual people who have yet to find a community of like others may experience more isolation, distress, and confusion than members of other sexual identity groups (Brotto & Yule, 2009). Participants reported feelings of disconnection from their immediate peer groups, but significant connection with asexual groups online. The “birth” of asexuality as a social phenomenon on the Internet has been cred- ited as an important factor in allowing this population to grow (Scherrer, 2008). The Internet’s role in building community and helping people develop a communal identity is well documented in the literature (Carrigan, 2011; Pacho, 2013).
Stigma and visibility. As women, participants felt that they were subject to objectification, harassment, and gendered stereotypes. For example, participants described their physical appearance as “curvy,” “feminine,” and “attractive,” which made them feel more likely to be sexually propositioned. Being hypersexualized coincided with presumed accessibility as an object of sexual desire. In two cases, coercion and attempted sexual assault were discussed as conse- quences of objectification. Although one person shared that disclosing their asexuality was helpful in warding off advances, another person was accosted as a result of the same action. Findings align with much of the literature on WOC across sexual identities (Bowleg, 2008;
This document is copyrighted by the American Psychological Association or one of its allied publishers. This article is intended solely for the personal use of the individual user and is not to be disseminated broadly.Bowleg, Huang, Brooks, Black, & Burkholder, 2003; Greene, 2000). Frequent sexual objectification may contribute to low self-esteem and other indicators of distress (Moradi & Huang, 2008). Similar experi- ences have been noted among asexual men in the forms of social exclusion, isolation, invalidation of their asexual identity, and un- wanted sex (Decker, 2014; Przybylo, 2014). Regardless of perceived race or ethnicity, stereotypes of WOC were identified as a significant source of stress.
Attending to the nature of the source of distress for minority populations is paramount; here, distress may be induced by societal pressure to confirm to normative sexuality (Chasin, 2015). Disclosure as an anxiety-provoking task is also a recurring theme in asexuality research (Gazzola & Morrison, 2012; Foster & Scherrer, 2014; Jones, Hayter, & Jomeen, 2017; Scherrer, 2008). Participants reported that after disclosure, they have been objects of verbal harassment includ- ing suggestions that asexuality is illegitimate or a consequence of pathology. These stigmata contribute to macro level invisibility of asexuality. Stigma played a significant role in shaping comfort level, self-esteem, and community belongingness for participants. Explicit recognition of these stigma experiences may also promote healthy sense of self when the source of distress is externalized.“
“And Now I’m Just Different, but There’s Nothing Actually Wrong With Me”: Asexual Marginalization and Resistance (Study Published in the Journal of Homosexuality)
"A number of scholars studying asexuality have argued that although Western society is certainly “sex negative” in some ways, Western society also systematically privileges sexual identifications, desires, and activities while marginalizing different forms of non- sexuality, to the detriment of asexually identified individuals (for example, Chasin, 2013; Emens, 2014; Gupta, 2015a). According to some scholars, asexual commu- nity formation poses a challenge to this society-wide system of “compulsory sexuality” or “sex-normativity,” calling into question deeply held assumptions about sexuality and relationality (Chasin, 2013).A number of studies have explored one or more of the negative impacts of contemporary sexual norms on the lives of asexually identified individuals. According to this scholarship, asexually identified individuals can face pathologization (Foster & Scherrer, 2014; Robbins, Low, & Query, 2015), difficulties in relationships and social situations (Carrigan, 2011), and disbelief or denial of their asexual self-identification (MacNeela & Murphy, 2014).In response to a direct question about whether they had ever felt stigmatized or marginalized as a result of their asexual identity, more than one half of the interviewees answered “yes,” more than one quarter answered “maybe” or “in some ways yes, in some ways no,” and around 20% answered “no.” In addition, all the interviewees described at least one negative experience attributable to compulsory sexuality. Here I offer a typology of these negative impacts of compulsory sexuality: pathologization, isolation, unwanted sex and relationship conflict, and the denial of epistemic authority. It is important to emphasize that what follows should not be taken as direct evidence of marginalization, stigma, or discrimination but as the interviewees’ interpretations of and narratives about particular life experiences.Unwanted sex and relationship conflict
In response to a question about their relationship history, almost two thirds
of interviewees reported that social norms about sexuality and relationality
and the invisibility of asexuality had negatively affected their interpersonal
relationships. Ten interviewees (all female) described engaging in consensual but unwanted sex as a result of social pressure and pressure from a partner. Explaining why she had engaged in what she considered consensual but unwanted sex, Marcie, 19, said, “there’s not a lot of visibility for asexuality so when you’re young and you don’t really know that that’s a genuine orientation that you can embrace...you have all of society telling you, ‘You should want to be doing these things....’ So, it tended to get a little sexual but I was always trying to avoid that.” Christine, 21, described the following experience:
The guy I lost my virginity to, I had been in a relationship with him for about a year and I guess I just felt like, well, you know, I need to do this...And everybody was like, ‘Oh, you were raped and that’s awful.’ And like yeah, I guess. I should have said no. I could have said no, but I didn’t. I thought that this is what everybody did in their free time, and so I was trying to be like everybody else.
It is important to note that, according to a substantial body of research, a
significant percentage of both women and men report engaging in consensual but
unwanted sex for some of the same reasons as those given by the interviewees in
this study (e.g., Gavey, 2005; Impett & Peplau, 2002; Muehlenhard & Cook, 7
1988). Thus it is possible that the system of compulsory sexuality negatively affects asexually identified and non–asexually identified people in some of the same ways.
Overall, according to approximately two thirds of the interviewees, sexual norms and the invisibility of asexuality had made it difficult to maintain romantic relationships with sexual partners. For example, Clare, in her late 20s, talked about the fact that before she had found the word asexual, she did not know how to communicate her wants and needs, which made negotiation with a partner difficult. She said, “I’m not really like even opposed to [sex]—like I think I could do a long term relationship with someone if they understood that I was just not going to be into it as much, but like I didn’t know that at the time. So it was very hard to commu- nicate.” Kerry, a recent medical school graduate, talked about the fact that because potential partners maintain socially influenced expectations about sex and relationships, negotiating the sexual aspects of a relationship are more difficult. She said, “Even trying to like kind of negotiate that kind of thing, it’s like your partner knows that you’re not as into it as you should be or a sexual person would be...[your partner] can’t not be hurt by that because they don’t understand that it’s not that I’m [just] not attracted to [them]” (emphasis added). On the other hand, two interviewees reported that they had managed to successfully negotiate the sexual aspects of relationships with sexual partners in the past, and one interviewee was currently in a relationship with a sexual partner.
Finally, contemporary Western society’s privileging of sexual relationships over nonsexual relationships was perceived by some interviewees to have had negative effects on their ability to maintain long-term friendships. Two interviewees mentioned that it was hard for them to maintain friendships because their friends often wanted to turn friendships into sexual relation- ships. Three interviewees talked about their sense that their friends prior- itized sexual relationships with others over nonsexual friendships. Sarah described her sense of this as follows:
I feel like a lot of sexual people, they’re like, ‘Oh, you’re my friend,’ but then like maybe they start dating someone else and they lose contact with a lot of their friends. Like a lot of people become really invested in their sexual relationships. And then they’re like, ‘Oh,’ and your commitment with them sort of vanishes—this happened to me once. It was really hard because I had all this commitment toward the friendship and then the friendship just sort of evaporated on me.
Chris offered another example of this phenomenon: “I’ll be really good friends with someone, but I have to step aside whenever they get in a romantic relationship in a way that no one’s ever stepped aside because of a relationship I have with anyone.” Again, this kind of experience may not be unique to asexually identified individuals, as compulsory sexuality may effect sexual people in similar ways."
Asexual People’s Experience with Microaggressions (City University of New York)
(This study is a 45-page document detailing the types, sources, and effects of microaggressions. For space restrictions, I have only included the conclusion.To read the complete study, check out the library.)“This study was done to discover if asexual people experience microaggressions, and if so, how the microaggressions manifested, who they came from, and what mental health effects they may have. Information from this study was also collected to inform further research, as well as increase competency for mental health care providers that have asexual clients. This study supports the proposition that asexual people do experience subtle discrimination known as microaggressions. The themes found were similar to the themes found in other research on LGBTQ identities (Nadal, 2011). The microaggressions came from the expected sources similar to other microaggression studies, such as family, friends, and the media. They did report some more overt forms of discrimination in the form of attempted sexual assault and nonconsensual touching that appeared to intersect with their gender identity; the participants all identified as women and women report a 1 in 5 rate of rape in the United States (NSVRC, 2015).
Discrimination has long been associated with negative mental health outcomes and distress, and microaggressions are starting to be associated with negative mental health outcomes as well (Nadal, 2011). It is important to know that asexual people are facing this form of discrimination and how it affects them so it can be combated and access to support and needed mental health care can be provided. Microaggressions also can come from healthcare providers and even mental health providers, as indicated in this study and others (Shelton & Delgado-Romero, 2011). Providers should be able to recognize the common microaggressions against asexual people so that they can avoid perpetuating microaggressions in the future and they can provide more competent and compassionate care. Microaggressions and discrimination have been previously shown to have negative effects on the mental health of LGB individuals, and the asexual participants in this study reported that microaggressions caused them increased anxiety, relationship stress, discomfort, and depression. Considering LGB people also report higher levels of mood disorders and personality disorders compared to heterosexual people, it is important to know what may be contributing to this, as they may be a population at a greater risk of negative mental health outcomes and in need of greater care (Yule, Brotto, & Gorzalka, 2013). They also may be seeking therapy more frequently because of their mental health and it is important to be culturally competent and aware of what asexual people face as a population. If health providers become aware of the experiences of asexual people, these individuals would be spared the need to explain their sexual orientation and freed from experiencing microaggressions in a health care setting where they need treatment.”
Asexuality: A Minority in Need of Understanding (http://thewip.net/education/asexuality-a-minority-in-need-of-understanding/)
“Another all-too-common response is to suggest that people who are asexual simply have not had decent sex. This opens the door to rape culture, where sexual people believe it is okay to pressure asexual people to engage in unwanted sex because it might help “fix” the “problem.” CJ Chasin, a graduate student who researches sexuality at the University of Windsor, Canada cautions, “Of the two small groups of asexual and non-asexual women in my study (who had agreed to unwanted sex) with romantic partners who were men, participants in both groups generally had these experiences very frequently during the course of these relationships. And both groups actually experienced quite a bit of sexual coercion in those relationships overall. These asexual women as a group experienced particularly much [more] sexual coercion, including sexual coercion that was specifically related to their asexuality.” Clearly, for some asexuals, entering a romantic relationship with a sexual person can be riskier than for sexuals.”
When You’re An Asexual Assault Survivor, It’s Even Harder To Be Heard (Article on BuzzFeed)
This article only mentions one statistic but it is still quite relevant, so I went ahead and included it.
"Because public discourse often overlooks and even outright dismisses asexuality itself, it follows that ace stories of harassment and assault aren’t widely heard, let alone accepted or understood, among those who don’t identify as ace. But that doesn’t mean they don’t happen: In the 2015 asexual community census, a volunteer-run project, 43.5% of nearly 8,000 aces surveyed reported having experienced some form of sexual violence (including rape, assault, and coercion)."
"Conversely, ace women’s experiences can blend into those of other women’s generally. “Obviously, I can’t separate being a woman from being an asexual person, because I’ll always be both,” said Julie Sondra Decker, 40, the author of the 2014 seminal ace book The Invisible Orientation. “I do find that a lot of what has happened to me has happened because I’m asexual or partially because I’m asexual. ‘Oh, that just happened to you because you’re a woman,’ or ‘That just happened because of sexism.’ … I see a lot of downplay of how much being asexual factors into that.”"
"Aces often talk about the idea of the “unassailable asexual,” which is someone whose asexuality is begrudgingly accepted by the mainstream because there’s no other plausible reason for their disinterest in sex: someone who’s white, cis, neurotypical, not “too old” or “too young,” and with no disabilities and no history of sexual trauma. If someone who could seemingly have their pick of sexual partners abstains from sex, then they must not have “chosen” this identity after all. Aces from more marginalized backgrounds often have more difficulty finding acceptance, let alone becoming public faces for the community.Aces also fight the misconception that they can’t be assaulted because they’re never in sexual scenarios to begin with. “If you’re not sexually attracted to people, you’re not in those situations to be sexually assaulted. So you know, are there even asexual victims?” Devin said, parroting a generalization she’s heard. “Which, obviously there are, you don’t need to be in a sexual situation to be a victim or a survivor.” Plus, many aces do sometimes pursue romance and sex.“I feel that because asexuality is perceived as an entirely ‘nonsexual’ identity by many outside the ace community that it’s unfortunately easy for ace survivors of sexual harassment and assault to be left out or excluded from the conversation,” Paramo said."
Battling Asexual Discrimination, Sexual Violence And ‘Corrective’ Rape (Article in The Huffington Post)
This is another article that is more qualitative rather than quantitative that I decided to include.
"Sexual harassment and violence, including so-called “corrective” rape, is disturbingly common in the ace community, says Decker, who has received death threats and has been told by several online commenters that she just needs a “good raping.”“When people hear that you’re asexual, some take that as a challenge,” said Decker, who is currently working on a book about asexuality. “We are perceived as not being fully human because sexual attraction and sexual relationships are seen as something alive, healthy people do. They think that you really want sex but just don’t know it yet. For people who perform corrective rape, they believe that they’re just waking us up and that we’ll thank them for it later.”In April, a heated debate sparked online when an asexual Tumblr blogger wrote about corrective rape.“There is a real fear even among the asexual community that people who identify as anything other than heterosexual will be harassed and assaulted,” wrote “Angela,” a self-identified aromantic ace. “They have a reason to be upset and a reason to be afraid, it has happened to many people before.”"
"Asexuals and ace activists say the conversation about sexual assault in the asexual community is part of the wider societal discussion about rape culture generally and about corrective rape in the queer community specifically. They also say it speaks to a bias and an invisibility that asexuals face in everyday life.Indeed, aces have in the past been characterized by members of the mainstream and religious media as abnormal, unhappy and repressed.In a 2012 Fox News segment about sexologist Anthony Bogaert‘s book Understanding Asexuality, host Greg Gutfeld and a panel of guests mocked the asexual identity, treating it as something invalid or exaggerated.“[T]hey have a lack of ... sexuality, so they’ll be kind of treated as lepers — asexual lepers, if you will,” Gutfeld said in the segment.Yet few outsiders appear to know much, if anything, about the community.In the beginning of filmmaker Angela Tucker’s 2011 documentary “(A)sexual,” members of the general public try — and fail — to grasp or explain asexuality. While many quickly connect asexuals with organisms like mosses and amoebas, one man asserts with conviction that there’s “no such thing” as asexual human beings.Last year, the apparent bias against aces was corroborated by a landmark study conducted by Brock University researchers Gordon Hodson and Cara McInnis. The study found that people of all sexual stripes are more likely to discriminate against asexuals, compared to other sexual minorities.“Most disturbingly, asexuals are viewed as less human, especially lacking in terms of human nature,” the study authors wrote. “This confirms that sexual desire is considered a key component of human nature and those lacking it are viewed as relatively deficient, less human and disliked.”"
Medicalization and Discrimination in The Health Industry
A Lack Of Sexual Attraction Is Still Widely Seen As A Medical Problem
Perhaps the most common area of marginalization of asexuality is in the medical field. Until recently, asexuality was considered a mental disorder by the DSM 5, and even now most doctors have trouble understanding a lack of sexual attraction. Hormone therapy and psychological referrals are still common, which makes asexuals afraid to come out to their providers or, in worst cases, afraid to seek healthcare altogether.Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
LGB within the T:
Sexual Orientation in the National Transgender Discrimination Survey and Implications for Public Policy
This study examines sexual orientation and discrimination experienced by transgender people, an important step in analyzing the intersectionality of gender identity and sexual orientation.An important note about the data: Although only 264 asexual people responded, the researchers analyzed the data to make sure it was significant. The data with two asterisks are statistically significant, and those with one are statistically significant in the context of the complete study.
Age of Participants (Interestingly, asexual respondents skewed older)
Health
National LGBT Survey 2017 UK
The link above leads to the interactive data set. In the PDF library I have also included the analysis provided by researchers that the quotes arise from.
A Note On The Sample Size: “Due to the lack of data on the LGBT population, it was not possible to gross the survey findings to be representative of all LGBT people, nor was it possible to weight the data, for example for non-response, as it was not based on a sample. Similarly, confidence intervals and statistical testing were not appropriate because the data was not based on a representative sample.
The results presented in this survey nonetheless constitute the findings on the experiences and views of over 100,000 LGBT people, making it one of the largest collections of empirical evidence from this group to date.“
“Bisexual respondents were the least likely to have undergone or been offered conversion therapy (5%), and asexual respondents the most likely (10%) .”“ Amongst cisgender respondents, queer respondents (86%) were particularly likely to have accessed or tried to access healthcare services, whilst asexual respondents were the least likely to have done so (73%) (Annex 8, Q68).”“ Queer (23%) and asexual (21%) respondents were more likely to have experienced at least one of the listed negative experiences [with a medical professional] than gay and lesbian (14%), pansexual (14%) and bisexual respondents (11%) (Annex 8, Q72).”“ The most frequently stated reason for not having disclosed or discussed sexual orientation with healthcare staff was that respondents had not thought it was relevant (84%) (Annex 8, Q71). Amongst cisgender respondents, asexual (22%), queer (18%) and those identifying as having an ‘other’ sexual orientation (17%) were particularly likely to say that they had feared a negative reaction (Figure 8.7).““ Amongst cisgender respondents, those with less common sexual orientations were particularly likely to say that disclosing their sexual orientation had a negative effect on their treatment, with 26% of asexual, 13% of queer and 10% of pansexual respondents reporting this, compared to 7% of gay and lesbian respondents (Figure 8.10).”“Intersectionality is worthy of note in respondents’ perception of access, as trans respondents who identified as heterosexual were more likely to rate access to mental health services ‘very easy’ (18%) than trans respondents with a minority sexual orientation, such as trans respondents who identified as queer (6%), pansexual (7%) and asexual (7%) (Annex 8, Q76).”“ Amongst cisgender people, those with less common sexual orientations were particularly likely to say that they had been ‘worried, anxious or embarrassed about going’ to sexual health services ranging from 8% of bisexual respondents to 12% of asexual respondents, compared to 6% of gay and lesbian respondents. They were also notably more likely to say that their GP had not been supportive, ranging from 3% of bisexual respondents to 8% of asexual respondents, compared to 2% of gay and lesbian respondents (Table 8.2).“
Have you ever had so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy in an attempt to "cure" you of being LGBT? Have you ever been offered this so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy?
Who conducted this so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy?
Who offered this so-called "conversion" or "reparative" therapy?
In the past 12 months, how often did you discuss or disclose your sexual orientation with healthcare staff?
In the past 12 months, why did you not discuss your sexual orientation with all healthcare staff?
In the past 12 months, did being open about your sexual orientation with healthcare staff have an effect on your care?
In the past 12 months, did you experience any of the following when using or trying to access healthcare services because of your sexual orientation?
In the past 12 months, did you access, or try to access, any public healthcare services? For example, any services provided by the National Health Service (NHS) in England, Scotland and Wales, or Health and Social Care (HSC) in Northern Ireland. This includes in relation to your physical, mental or sexual health, or your gender identity, and includes routine appointments with your GP (General Practitioner).
Age of Respondents (relevant in analyzing access to healthcare)
In the past 12 months, did you access, or try to access, any mental health services? For example, talking treatments such as counselling and cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), eating disorder services, perinatal mental health services, mental health services accessed via your General Practitioner (GP), or other specialist mental health services.
In the past 12 months, why was accessing mental health services difficult?
On a scale of 1 to 5, how easy was it for you to access mental health services in the past 12 months? If you would prefer not to answer, please leave blank.
Overall, how would you rate the mental health services you used in the past 12 months?
Comparing Asexual and Non-Asexual Sexual Minority Adolescents and Young Adults: Stressors, Suicidality, and Mental and Behavioural Health Risk Outcomes (Journal of Psychology and Sexuality)
“ Asexual respondents reported greater internalised LGBTQ-phobia than non-asexual respondents for both age cohorts (adolescent: p=.046; young adult: p=.004).““ Among adolescents, several mental health outcomes (i.e., anxiety, depression, somatic symptoms), showed significant differences between asexual and non-asexual youth (p=.006 to p=.017), and between cisgender and gender minority respondents (p<.001 to p=.002). Among young adults, asexual youth reported significantly greater depression and somatic symptoms than their non-asexual counterparts (p = .003 to p=.033);”“While the difference between asexual and non-asexual respondents was not significant among adolescents (F=0.01, p=.914), asexual young adults experienced significantly greater suicidal ideation than their non-asexual counterparts (F=4.38, p=.037). ”“A comparison of self-perceived stress indicated that the asexual young adults experienced significantly greater stress than their non-asexual counterparts in the past month (p=.003); however, the comparison of the adolescent groups was only marginally significant (p=.056).““ Conversely, the asexual individuals in both age cohorts were more likely to experience internal stressors, including significantly greater internalised LGBTQ-phobia. Youth in the spectrum of asexuality were also more likely to report higher self-perceived stress, and a range of mental health concerns—including depressive, anxious, and somatic symptoms—though only certain stressors met the threshold of significance, with some discrepancies between age cohorts.”
“ Among asexual young adults, suicidal ideation was also significantly higher than among than their non-asexual peers. Results suggest asexual youth potentially struggle to a greater degree with self-stigma and identity integration. Internalised LGBTQ-phobia has been linked to mental health difficulties (Herek et al., 2009; Newcomb & Mustanski, 2010; Puckett et al., 2015), and individuals who identify as asexual may experience compounded stigma and marginalisation because of their lack of sexual attraction in a highly sexualised dominant culture (Sumerau et al., 2018; Yule et al., 2013). Asexual individuals tend to be viewed more negatively by society (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012), and asexuality is also frequently delegitimised by the social networks that individuals interact with. Therefore, in addition to general stigma associated with being a SMY, particularly negative perceptions and delegitimisation of asexuality could contribute to compounded structural and interpersonal stigma which asexual youth may internalise.”
Anxiety and Depression Across Gender and Sexual Minorities: Implications for Transgender, Gender Nonconforming, Pansexual, Demisexual, Asexual, Queer, and Questioning Individuals (Psychology of Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity)
“Further, consistent with H2, those identifying as gay/lesbian, bisexual, questioning, pansexual, demisexual, asexual, and queer demon- strated higher ratings of depression and anxiety when compared with heterosexual participants.”
Factors Associated with Health Care Discrimination Experiences among a National Sample of Female-to-Male Transgender Individuals
“In step 2, being 45 years or older (OR = 0.65), identifying as asexual or other (OR = 1.58), and hav- ing an annual income over $60,000 (OR = 0.67) were also significantly associated with health care discrimination. Participants over 45 years of age and those with an annual income of over $60,000 were less likely to experience discrimination; participants who reported a queer, asexual, or other sexual ori-
entation, those identified as Native American or multiracial, those with public health insurance, and those with a graduate degree were more likely to experience discrimination.”
ACT Aces: Asexual
Experiences Survey
Mental Health Implications of Sexual Orientation (The Journal of Sex Research, study completed in 1983)
“ Mean comparisons of clinical scores among the four sexual orienta- tion groups are presented in Table 3. As shown, the depression (GCS), self-esteem (ISE), and sexual satisfaction IISS) score differences among the groups were significant (p < .01). For the three clinical variables found to be significant, the rank order of the means of the sexual orientation groups is identical for each. To the extent that clinical dysfunction was indicated, the asexual group demonstrated the greatest degree, the homosexual group was next, the ambisexual group followed, and the heterosexual group evidenced the least amount. These data would appear to conform to the wellness con- tinuum described earlier with the addition of asexual individuals indi- cating even greater disturbance than the homosexually-oriented.”
Mental health and interpersonal functioning in self- identified asexual men and women (University of British Columbia, Vancouver)
“Summary of findings
Participants completed on-line questionnaires assessing mental health correlates and interpersonal problems. There were significant differences between asexual, non-heterosexual, and heterosexual men and women on multiple psychological symptoms, including anxiety, hostility, phobic anxiety, and psychoticism. More specifically, asexual men scored higher on measures of somatization, depression, and psychoticism than their non-heterosexual counterparts. Asexual women scored higher on measures of phobic anxiety and psychoticism than heterosexual women, and had scores similar to non-heterosexual women on these variables. Notably, asexual men and women scored significantly higher on items assessing suicidality than heterosexual individuals. Further, asexual women scored higher on several interpersonal problem domains, including vindictive, cold, socially avoidant, non- assertive, and exploitable personality styles than heterosexual women. Asexual men had scores indicating greater cold, socially avoidant and non-assertive personality styles compared to heterosexual men, and had higher scores indicating cold personality styles than non-heterosexual men.
Mental Health
The effect of external factors on mental health among gay men and lesbian women has been clearly established by a number of studies demonstrating that experience with stigma, prejudice, and discrimination are linked with mental health status (Bradford & Ryan, 1994; Brooks, 1981; Frable, Wortman, & Joseph, 1997; Herek, Gillis, & Cogan, 1997; Herek, Gillis, & Cogan, 1999; Meyer, 1995; Meyer & Dean, 1998;
28Otif & Skinner, 1996; Ross, 1990; Rotheram-Borus, Hunter, & Rosario, 1994; Safen & Heimberg, 1999; Sandfort et al., 2001). Scherrer (2008) has likened an asexual identity to that of other marginalized sexual groups, and paralleled asexual and queer sexualities, as both have had histories of medicalization and pathologization through inclusion in the DSM. Scherrer also noted that, like sexual minority groups, asexual individuals have been subject to discrimination, a feature often associated with mental and physical health (Conrad & Schneider, 1994). Thus, our finding of increased mental health problems among asexual individuals might be explained by the experience of discrimination due to having a non-heterosexual orientation, or may perhaps even be a consequence of lacking sexual attraction within a social environment that is arguably centered on sexuality.
Asexuality has only been the focus of empirical study within the last eight years, and the asexual community itself has only existed for the past decade or so, fuelled by the growth of Internet exposure, and expanding from its original primary venue (AVEN) to include a multitude of blogspots (e.g., www.asexualexplorations.net; asexualunderground.blogspot.ca), YouTube videos (e.g., Hot Pieces of Ace YouTube channel) and dating websites (e.g., www.asexualitic.com) discussing individuals’ experiences of asexuality. The preceding invisibility of asexuality was not due to a scarcity of asexual individuals, but more likely to the lack of a cohesive group or platform (i.e., the Internet) in which an asexual community could flourish and publicly self-identify as such. Brotto and Yule (2009) noted that asexual communities such as AVEN have been described as an important place in the identification process of asexual individuals. These online communities are represented as places where
29asexual individuals’ experiences are validated, where they can discuss their lack of sexual attraction, and where they can find a sense of community. Brotto and Yule went on to suggest that those individuals who lack sexual attraction, but have never heard the term “asexuality” are more isolated, distressed, or confused than those individuals who belong to an asexual community. Interaction with such a community, and the recognition of an asexual identity, may perhaps allow an asexual individual a sense of belonging. As the asexual community itself is relatively young, it is likely true that many of its members did not come into contact with the community until well into their adult life. It follows that throughout the majority of their formative years, due to their lack of sexual attraction, these individuals may have felt isolated from those around them, which might have increased symptoms of depression, and other mental health correlates. We note, however, the relatively young age of the sample being investigated.
It could be that asexual individuals may experience some difficulty in negotiating a lack of sexual attraction within a society that puts great emphasis on sex and sexuality. While the available research suggests that asexual individuals do not experience distress in direct relation to their lack of sexual attraction, it may be that they do experience some difficulty in response to negotiating their asexuality in a sexual world. In fact, Prause and Graham (2007) found that despite several advantages identified by asexual individuals (i.e., avoiding problems that arise in intimate relationships, decreased health and pregnancy risk, less social pressure to find a suitable partner, and having a greater amount of free time), there were several drawbacks, including difficulties establishing intimate relationships, being unsure
30what “problem” is causing asexuality, and negative public perception of asexuality. One of the most pervasive assumptions of our society is that all people experience sexual desire (Cole, 1993; Przybylo, 2011). Prause and Graham (2007) noted that asexual individuals may experience pressure to conform to this social norm, and may face challenges that are unrecognized by non-asexual individuals. It follows that distress arising from conflict with social expectations, from concerns that a potential physical abnormality may be causing a lack of sexual attraction, or from unique challenges faced by asexual individuals, could lead to psychological symptoms such as depression or anxiety. Furthermore, in recent qualitative research, asexual individuals expressed a sense of always having “felt different” than others, beginning around the time where their peers began to develop sexual interest (Brotto et al., 2010). A sense of belonging can be crucial in mental health development, and disruption or unrest during formative years has been indicated in several mental health problems, such as social anxiety (Hudson & Rapee, 2000) and depression (Ross & Mirowsky, 1999). Bisexual individuals have been found to have indications of poorer mental health than homosexual and heterosexual individuals (Jorm, Koren, Rodgers, Jacomb, & Christensen, 2002), and it has been speculated that, in addition to social pressure arising from having a non-majority sexual orientation, having neither a clear homosexual nor heterosexual orientation may pose an additional stressor on the bisexual individual (Jorm et al., 2002). The same may be argued for the asexual individual.
Relationship status has been linked to mental health problems (Berry & Worthington, 2001; Holt-Lunstad, Birmingham, & Jones, 2008), and it has been
31suggested that it may be a mediating factor between non-heterosexual sexual identity and higher prevalence rates of some disorders (Sandfort et al., 2001). Gay and lesbian individuals are less likely to be in a relationship compared to their heterosexual counterpart (perhaps due to unavailability of a suitable partner, or to social stigma and barriers to such a relationship), and Sandfort and colleagues (2001) suggested that this may lead to increased loneliness, which may in turn be linked to increased mental health problems. It follows that the same might be true for asexual individuals, who have consistently been shown to be less likely to be in a relationship compared to sexual individuals (Bogaert, 2004; Brotto et al., 2010; Brotto & Yule, 2011; Yule, et al., 2014), despite expressing interest in romantic relationships through online forum discussions and the existence of asexual dating sites. There has yet to be any academic research on the importance of relationships to asexual individuals.
Suicidality
Our finding of potentially increased suicidality among asexual individuals is novel and interesting. Lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth have consistently been found to have high suicide attempt rates (D'Augelli & Hershberger, 1993; Grossman & Kerner, 1998; Hammelman, 1993; Jorm et al., 2002; Remafedi et al., 1998). Factors associated with suicide attempts among adolescents, such as psychiatric problems, intense personal stressors and losses, and negative life events (Brent, Bridge, Johnson, & Connolly, 1998; Lewinsohn, Rodhe, & Seeley, 1994; Reinherz et al., 1995) have also been found to predict number of suicide attempts among non-heterosexual youth (D'Augelli et al., 2001). It may be that many of these factors are also intensified among asexual individuals, although this association has yet to be investigated. Evidence
32indicates that gay male youth who have attempted suicide frequently have not yet established a stable sexual identity (Schneider, Farberow, & Kruks, 1989). Due to the general lack of knowledge regarding asexuality as a sexual identity, an individual who lacks sexual attraction may have additional difficulty in finding a stable sexual identity; especially before coming into contact with the asexual community. This potential difficulty in establishing a sexual identity may in part explain the observed increase in endorsement of items indicating suicidality in this sample.
It is important to note that previous research on suicidality in non-heterosexual individuals reveals that this increased suicidality is not universal, but is linked with several risk factors, including self-identification as non-heterosexual at a younger age, substance abuse, family dysfunction, interpersonal conflict surrounding sexual orientation, and non-disclosure of sexual orientation (Remafedi, 1994). Thus, increased suicide risk seems to be in response to negotiating sexual identity within the larger social picture. It is also noteworthy that much of the research conducted on suicidality and sexual orientation has been done with adolescents, using samples of high school students. This study investigated a wide range of ages and utilized only a cursory measure of suicidality composed of two items embedded within a larger measure. However, this finding should be taken seriously and explored in more depth, particularly in light of previous research examining suicide attempts among gay and lesbian youth (Koureny, 1987).
Interpersonal Problems
In addition to the observation that a large proportion of asexual individuals had never engaged in sexual intercourse (Bogaert, 2004; Brotto et al., 2010) or been in a
33relationship (Brotto et al., 2010), researchers found that asexual individuals exhibited elevated social inhibition and cold/distant scores on a measure of personality problems. This lead the authors to speculate that asexual individuals may have had avoidant attachment styles (according to Bowlby’s (1969) attachment theory) as young children, which in turn might have lead to problems developing intimate relationships later in life (Brotto et al., 2010). Specifically, Brotto and colleagues (2010) wondered whether Schizoid Personality Disorder, which is characterized by disconnection from social relationships and a restricted range of emotions, might be related to asexuality. The qualitative portion of Brotto and colleague’s study confirmed that nearly half of the participants felt that they met criteria for Schizoid Personality Disorder, and that a number of members of AVEN were introverted, and thus had characteristics of Cluster A Personality Disorders. While the current finding that asexual individuals tended to have a socially avoidant and cold interpersonal style compared to non-heterosexual and heterosexual individuals supports Brotto and colleagues’ (2010) finding, it does not allow us to speculate whether or not Schizoid Personality Disorder underlies asexuality. This relationship between the current indications of socially avoidant and cold personality styles and asexuality requires more detailed exploration in future studies.
Combined, our findings do not provide support for the previous speculation that asexuality is a symptom of, or an expression of an underlying psychiatric disorder. On the other hand, our findings do not allow us to rule out the alternative view, which is that growing up feeling different from one’s peers due to the lack of sexual attraction, and experiencing stigma associated with one’s lack of sexual attraction may lead to
34difficulties developing social and/or intimate relationships, that might eventually lead the individual to self-identify as asexual. Though this interpretation cannot be entirely ruled out, our findings lend greater support to the other direction, which is that asexuality itself gives rise to others' distress in a manner that might impact psychological symptoms.
Limitations
Previous researchers have noted that asexual participants have, in the past, felt compelled to curtail their responses to queries about psychiatric symptoms, in an attempt to downplay any potential relationship between asexuality and psychopathology (Brotto et al., 2010). If this were true in the current sample, our significant findings may be under-representative of the severity of mental health issues among asexual participants. Further, this study used an Internet sample recruited from established asexual communities. This may limit our findings to asexual individuals who are members of such a community, as we did not assess individuals who lack sexual attraction, but have not yet come across the term “asexuality” or the asexual community (see Hinderliter (2009) and Brotto and Yule (2009) for a discussion on the limitations of recruiting samples from online asexual communities). Unfortunately, our sample of bisexual participants was not large enough to perform analyses on this group separately from homosexual participants. It would have been interesting to compare bisexual and asexual participants on these measures, and this is an area for future study.
352.5 Conclusion
This study provided evidence that asexuality may be associated with higher prevalence of mental health and interpersonal problems. These findings support previous research that indicates elevated levels of these mental health correlates among individuals with non-heterosexual identities. Importantly, this research suggests that tendency toward suicidality may be elevated in asexual individuals, warranting further research into this important topic. Clinical implications are considerable, and asexual individuals should be adequately assessed for mental health difficulties and provided with appropriate interventions that are sensitive to their asexual identity. Taken together, however, this study does not support the previous contention that asexuality is a mental health disturbance, or is a symptom of an underlying psychiatric condition.“
Understanding asexual identity as a means to facilitate culturally competent care: a systematic literature review (Journal of Clinical Nursing)
"This work uses a systematic review and qualitative analysis of the existing interview data from
self-identified asexuals, to construct features of the asexual identity. The findings will help practitioners
and health professionals develop an understanding of this poorly understood construct. Ultimately this
work is aimed at facilitating culturally competent care in the context of asexuality
Results:
Qualitative analysis produced 3 themes, which can be used, not only to frame asexuality in a
positive and normalising way, but also to provide greater understanding of asexuality
,
‘romantic
differences coupled with sexual indifference’, ‘validation through engagement with asexual communities’
and ‘a diversity of sub-asexual identities’.
Conclusions: Having some understanding of what it means to identify as asexual, respecting the choices
made by asexuals and can markedly improve the experiences of those who embrace an asexual identity
when engaging with healthcare.
Asexual-Identified Clients in Clinical Settings: Implications for Culturally Competent Practice (American Psychological Association)
“Examples provided by participants highlight the ne- cessity for increased educational resources for practitioners about asexuality. Although the interactions with professionals that par- ticipants described here proved to be not entirely negative, most were still not quite fully affirming. Moreover, the expectation of bias is evident among this sample and emerged as a potential barrier to treatment. Indeed, respondents in this sample described avoiding doctors all together or not visiting health practitioners for some time for this reason. These responses indicate that distrust of health professionals and preconceived notions about treatment contribute to apprehension of disclosing asexual identity in these settings.“
Asexual‐Identified Adults: Interactions with Health‐Care Practitioners (A study completed by two professors at the University of Minnesota)
“The participants provided valuable information that men- tal health and medical practitioners can use to improve the experience asexual clients have in health-care settings. Our results revealed that a large proportion of participants chose not to disclose their identity and felt uncomfortable discuss- ing issues related to sexual identity with their health practi- tioner. These findings suggest that many of our participants withheld their asexual identity in an attempt to avoid antici- pated negative interactions. This conclusion is supported by previous researchers who found that participants are cautious about disclosing their asexual identity because they expect
a lack of knowledge or understanding (Jones et al., 2017) and negative attitudes toward and dismissal of their asexual identity from health practitioners (Foster & Scherrer, 2014).
Participants were more likely to disclose their asexual identity to mental health as compared to medical practition- ers. Understanding why participants chose not to disclose their asexual identity provides some insight into this dis- crepancy. Specifically, more participants cited perception that practitioners were unfamiliar with asexuality and irrel- evance of asexuality to their care as reasons for not disclos- ing to medical as compared to mental health practitioners. Thus, a real or perceived lack of familiarity with asexuality among medical practitioners provides one explanation for the difference in disclosure. In addition, participants may view their identity as more relevant to their mental health care than their medical care due to different roles and job responsibilities of mental health and medical practitioners. For example, mental health practitioners often talk to clients about their relationships with others, and it would be difficult to do this work effectively without understanding that a client is asexual and what this identity means for them. Further, more participants reported disclosing their identity to mental health, as compared to medical, practitioners because they were asked a direct question about their identity. Thus, some of this discrepancy may be explained by a higher likelihood of mental health practitioners inquiring directly about sexual orientation.
The majority of participants who chose to disclose their identity reported having at least one positive experience fol- lowing disclosure. This finding may have occurred because many practitioners, who participants chose to disclose their identities to, were either knowledgeable about and sensitive toward asexuality or were able to apply their cultural sensitiv- ity and general knowledge about sexual minority identities to their asexual clients in effective ways. This interpretation is supported by the large number of participants’ qualitative statements which demonstrated either their practitioners’ understanding of asexuality and respect of asexual identities or how, despite a lack of knowledge of asexuality, practition- ers were accepting, nonjudgmental, and willing to educate themselves about asexuality. Another possible explanation for the large proportion of positive experiences after dis- closing asexuality may be that participants had low expecta- tions for what they would consider a positive experience. As shown in participants’ responses, many considered their experiences positive simply because practitioners were not overtly hostile or rejecting toward their identities. This infor- mation suggests that participants may have expected a level of pathologization, confusion, or rejection from practition- ers, the absence of which was interpreted as positive. This conclusion is supported by the fact that practitioners’ lack of knowledge was pointed out by participants who had both positive and negative experiences following disclosure. For many, the practitioners’ reactions to encountering new infor- mation (e.g., nonjudgmental and accepting, as opposed to inaccurate assumptions and dismissal) are what determined whether participants had positive or negative experiences. Taken together, these results highlight the importance of health practitioner’s developing cultural sensitivity because it allows them to value their clients’ and patients’ identities that differ from their own and respond to those differences, regardless of their level of familiarity or knowledge, with acceptance, caring, and a desire to learn.
Almost all participants who had positive experiences fol- lowing disclosure of their identity to their health practitioner reported being comfortable discussing sexual identity with their practitioner, whereas this was not the case for partici- pants who reported negative experiences. Participants’ rat- ings of their health practitioners help us understand some fac- tors associated with their level of comfort in discussing their asexual identity. Specifically, regardless of type of health practitioner, participants who had positive experiences after disclosing their asexual identity were more likely to indicate that their health practitioners were familiar with asexuality, accepted the participant’s identity completely, and reacted to the disclosure in a positive and affirming manner, whereas participants who had negative experiences were more likely to indicate that their practitioners were not familiar with asexuality, rejected the participant’s identity completely, and reacted to the disclosure in a negative and dismissive manner. These results do not allow for conclusions about the directionality of the association between positive and negative experiences following disclosure and feelings of comfort in discussing sexual identity, but they show an asso- ciation between these factors. Future research may explore whether participants disclosed their identities because they felt comfortable discussing their asexual identity with their practitioner, or whether participants became comfortable talking about their identity with their practitioner because they disclosed and had a positive experience.
The previous results suggest that continued efforts to increase health practitioners’ familiarity with and knowledge about LGBT+ individuals by including information about these communities in health curriculum and diversity train- ings are warranted (e.g., Hardacker, Rubinstein, Hotton, & Houlberg, 2013; Moll et al., 2014; Snowdon, 2010; Yingling, Cotler, & Hughes, 2016). Unfortunately, recent findings sug- gest that health-care education often overlooks sexual minor- ity identities and, as a result, likely contains very little or no information on asexuality (Dean, Victor, & Guidry-Grimes, 2016). Diversity trainings that increase general knowledge about LGBT+ communities, but ignore communities such as asexual or intersex individuals, may negatively impact asexual individuals’ experiences in health-care settings. For example, providers who believe they have sufficient knowl- edge about LGBT communities and hold equitable beliefs
may be less likely to evaluate or change their own behavior toward asexual individuals. This error is exemplified by a par- ticipant who described how her practitioner’s self-perceived competence about the LGBT community led the practitioner to conclude that her client was “making up asexuality.” To be effective, diversity trainings should include information about asexuality and aim to help providers understand and challenge their own biases.
Between one quarter and one half of participants reported that they were diagnosed with a mental, physical, or sexual disorder due to factors related to their sexual identity, such as lack of sexual desire, activity, or drive or had these fac- tors attributed to an existing diagnosis. The majority of these participants reported that they did not feel the diagnosis was appropriate. These findings support asexual individuals’ con- cerns about pathologization from health practitioners (Foster & Scherrer, 2014; Gupta, 2017). Further, this pathologiza- tion is not supported by research over the past decade, which has determined that asexuality is not a health problem, but a sexual orientation (e.g., Bogaert, 2006; Brotto & Yule, 2017; Van Houdenhove et al., 2014; Yule et al., 2015).
Some participants reported that because practitioners pathologized lack of sexual desire, activity, or drive, they felt forced to disclose their asexual identity in an attempt to explain their feelings and behavior. These results dem- onstrate that some health providers believe that not being “sexually active” is abnormal and needs to be explained in order for it to be believed and that “being asexual” func- tions as an adequate explanation for why someone might not want to have sex. This assumption is dangerous because it assumes that every non-asexual adult should want to have sex and disregards the fact that some asexual people have sex. This finding has implications for health providers with respect to challenging their assumptions, beliefs, and values. Specifically, health practitioners should know that asexual- ity exists, that it should not be pathologized, and that some people, asexual or otherwise, do not want to have sex and do not have sex. Additionally, it is important to understand that asexual individuals have a range of experiences and wishes with respect to having or not having sexual contact in their lives. This point is especially important since many of the participants who were diagnosed with a disorder related to their asexuality had not disclosed their asexuality. Clients and patients should not have to disclose their asexuality to avoid being pathologized.
Our results suggest participants were more likely to report their asexuality if they were asked a direct question, and participants recommend inclusive intake forms that ask questions regarding their asexuality. However, the results also reveal preliminary evidence that medical practitioners are more likely to pathologize participants’ lack of sexual desire, activity, or drive if participants disclosed their asex- uality. Thus, there is evidence both for and against health
practitioners asking about a client’s or patient’s asexual- ity. These conflicting results provide more evidence for the importance of health practitioners developing their cultural sensitivity. If health practitioners are accepting, validating, and seek out accurate information about asexuality, then the risk of pathologizing a patient’s asexuality is diminished and the benefits of asking about a client’s or patient’s asexuality, in an inclusive way and when appropriate, will materialize.
Some participants’ statements were consistent with Bogaert’s (2006) assertion that how a sexual orientation originated does not make it a pathology or any less of a valid orientation. For example, one participant wrote about how whether asexuality was their “natural/birth” orientation is not relevant because it is how they currently function and not something that needs to be “fixed.” Statements like these pro- vide additional support for the understanding that asexuality is a sexual orientation, and how someone comes to identify as asexual does not discount their identity.
The majority of the participants who had positive expe- riences and all participants who had negative experiences following identity disclosure made suggestions for how their health practitioner could change in order to better sup- port them and their sexual identity. Common participant recommendations suggest that mental health and medical practitioners should: believe their client after disclosure of asexuality and respond in a positive and affirming way; create inclusive intake forms that ask about sexual orientation; edu- cate themselves about asexuality and view it as a sexual ori- entation, not as a pathology or medical problem; understand how asexuality might change “typical” health-care protocols; and provide recognition and inclusion of sexual and gender minority identities in health-care settings. These suggestions are in line with Foster and Scherrer’s (2014) recommenda- tions for how practitioners can support their asexual clients. For example, Foster and Scherrer recommend that practition- ers should gain knowledge about asexuality, signal to clients via language on forms, questions in session, and educational pamphlets that they affirm and accept LGBT+ identities, and view asexuality as a healthy and viable sexual identity. Addi- tionally, the suggestions made by participants in the current study are similar to recommendations that have previously been given related to other sexual minority identities (e.g., Cook, Gunter, & Lopez, 2017; Fuzzell, Fedesco, Alexan- der, Fortenberry, & Shields, 2016; Kano, Silva-Banuelos, Sturm, & Willging, 2015). For example, gay, lesbian, bisex- ual, and pansexual participants indicated that inclusivity of health-care spaces (e.g., language use on paperwork and LGBT+ inclusive messages in office environments) played an important role in their feelings of comfort in these spaces. The similarities between the recommendations of previous studies and those made by participants in this study give an indication of how asexual individuals may be best supported. Of course, how exactly an individual practitioner applies
these findings with an individual client will depend on the client’s situation as well as the type of practice and level of knowledge of the practitioner.
As with other sexual minority identities, practitioners must consider whether asexual identity may be relevant to a particular health concern or situation, such as issues related to discrimination or relationship difficulties, rather than assuming asexuality is or is not always relevant (Fuzzell et al., 2016; Kano et al., 2015). Another similar element to working with other sexual minorities is the balance health practitioners must find between having a basic understand- ing of asexuality and not making assumptions about what an asexual identity may mean for a particular client or patient (e.g., whether a client has sex or does not).
Many of the results from the present study are similar to St. Pierre’s (2012) review of the experiences of lesbians fol- lowing disclosure of their sexual orientation to health-care providers. Similarities include choosing practitioners based on referrals from other sexual minorities, disclosing their sexual identities when they believed it was relevant to their health care, and being more likely to disclose their sexual identity if the health-care environment seemed to be a safe space for sexual minorities. These similarities, taken together with the parallel recommendations provided by participants in the current study and those made by previous sexual minorities (e.g., Cook et al., 2017; Fuzzell et al., 2016; Kano et al., 2015), provide further evidence for Bogaert’s (2006) assertion that asexuality is not a health problem but a sexual orientation and supports our call for health practitioners to stop pathologizing asexuality.“
Asexuality, the Internet, and the Changing Lexicon of Sexuality (From Sexuality And Translation in World Politics)
“Defining and Curing Asexuality
A variety of definitions of asexuality exists within academia. In Understanding Asexuality, one of the first and few books written on asexuality, Anthony Bogaert (2012b) explores the ‘true asexual’, that individual that has never felt sexual attraction or desire and never will. For Bogaert, this is the only way to experience asexuality, and understanding this type of asexuality, he claims, enables a better understanding of sexuality as a whole. In contrast, Mark Carrigan (2011) argues for exploring diversity within the asexual community. Recognising and understanding the commonalities and differences within87 Sexuality and Translation in World Politics
asexuality ‘is a necessary starting point for research that attempts to understand and/or explain asexuality and asexuals [sic]’ (2011, 465). Some disagree. Lori Brotto and Morag Yule (2009) argue that allowing for diversity within asexuality may attract people to identify as asexual when they are actually not, especially in academic research studies. Eunjung Kim (2010) disputes this by looking at lived experiences. According to Kim, ‘many narratives of individuals demonstrate that asexuality escapes monolithic definition, simple behaviour [sic] patterns, bodily characteristics, and identities despite some researchers’ efforts to draw a clear boundary for the “condition”’. (2010, 158). Concretely, individuals who self-identify as asexual understand themselves in a variety of ways which are not monolithic, but fluid and changing, and cannot be defined in static or rigid terms – as is the case with most identities.
In the face of definitions purported on asexual people by some researchers, Kim argues that asexuality itself escapes these boundaries and asexual people perpetuate diversity through attempts at understanding themselves. For Carrigan (2011), asexual community members transform these boundaries and definitions through their collective activity. Asexual individuals can shape the conversation about their identity by resisting current narratives and forming new ones about asexual identity inside and outside academia. This requires collaboration, such as when asexual individuals research asexuality in academia or participate in research studies. Asexual people can also create knowledge that the asexual community can then incorporate into educational and awareness efforts.
The most crucial struggle around asexuality is being named a sexual desire disorder, specifically hyposexual desire disorder (HSDD), and not a legitimate sexuality. While many of these discussions are theoretical (Bogaert 2008; Brotto 2010; Brotto et al. 2015), the resulting reality for asexual individuals is not. Andrew Hinderliter (2013) states that one of the goals for the asexual community is for asexuality to be seen as a legitimate sexuality like others, not something to be cured. For an asexual individual diagnosed with HSDD (Chasin 2013), treatments can range from low dose testosterone treatments (for women) that are not approved by the FDA (Snabes and Simes 2009) to sex therapy, cognitive-behaviour therapy, flibanserin (female Viagra), oestrogen therapy, testosterone treatments, and other alternative medicines (Simon 2009). Keesha Ewers (2014) explains that many females worldwide suffer from HSDD, and several of these cases are a result of past negative experiences with sexual activity that has altered the brain’s wiring. Using something called the HURT model, these women can rewire their brains to heal the trauma and continue with sexual activity. Alyson Spurgas (2015) recalls interviews with women being treated for low female desire with Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, part of which includesAsexuality, the Internet, and the Changing Lexicon of Sexuality 88
sexual role playing, which some participants realised was conditioning them for female receptivity (for male penetrative acts) instead of increasing their own desire for the acts. These merely ‘rational knowledge claims’ (Haraway 1988) become the justification for imposing potentially harmful and irrevocable ‘cures’ on individuals who have nothing wrong with them.
Taking back control of the narratives and the very definition of what it means to be an asexual person is not merely educational activism but a form of anti- violence activism. In The Beginning and End of Rape: Confronting Sexual Violence in Native America, Sarah Deer (2015) discusses the harm that sexual violence does to identity:
If our sexuality is part of that which defines who and what each of us is, then it is at the very core of our self-identity. I think this is because the very nature of sexuality represents the best of humanity – the creation of new life, or the sharing of deep mutual affection and attraction. When this manifestation of our humanity is violated, it has life-changing ramifications for one’s feelings about self, others, justice, and trust. (xvi-xvii)
Deer’s argument is for autonomy over one’s own sexuality as part of one’s own humanity, something that is violated with sexual violence. Likewise, the same logic can be applied to the asexual community. The denial of autonomy in defining one’s own sexuality is a denial of humanity that also has ‘life- changing ramifications’ such as suicidal ideations, interpersonal violence, lack of trust of others and medical/psychological practitioners, and lack of education around identity, an injustice in itself, as mentioned in the introduction.
While Deer articulates that sexual violence is a weapon of war and means of control and power, I argue that systematically denying self-definition and autonomy is also violence. Both are different and distinct types of violence, but violence nonetheless. Researchers who support the pathologisation of asexuality as a sexual disorder are building an institutional response to lack of sexual attraction that treats patients on the assumption that everyone should want to engage in – heterosexual – sexual activity. This institutional response is fuelled by interpersonal interactions – the idea that, within society, people interact with each other under the assumption that everyone should want to engage in heterosexual sexual activity. These interactions push people into seeking medical interventions and personal counselling, which attempts to ‘cure’ asexual individuals and which, in turn, further fuels the interpersonal responses, a revolving cycle that perpetuates itself. There is nothing new about curing sexuality with an interconnected web of violence.89 Sexuality and Translation in World Politics
Chasin (2017) notes that sexuality as a category exists as a divisive political
issue that separates people to discriminate, criminalise, and cure.”
“Defining and Curing Asexuality
A variety of definitions of asexuality exists within academia. In Understanding Asexuality, one of the first and few books written on asexuality, Anthony Bogaert (2012b) explores the ‘true asexual’, that individual that has never felt sexual attraction or desire and never will. For Bogaert, this is the only way to experience asexuality, and understanding this type of asexuality, he claims, enables a better understanding of sexuality as a whole. In contrast, Mark Carrigan (2011) argues for exploring diversity within the asexual community. Recognising and understanding the commonalities and differences within87 Sexuality and Translation in World Politics
asexuality ‘is a necessary starting point for research that attempts to understand and/or explain asexuality and asexuals [sic]’ (2011, 465). Some disagree. Lori Brotto and Morag Yule (2009) argue that allowing for diversity within asexuality may attract people to identify as asexual when they are actually not, especially in academic research studies. Eunjung Kim (2010) disputes this by looking at lived experiences. According to Kim, ‘many narratives of individuals demonstrate that asexuality escapes monolithic definition, simple behaviour [sic] patterns, bodily characteristics, and identities despite some researchers’ efforts to draw a clear boundary for the “condition”’. (2010, 158). Concretely, individuals who self-identify as asexual understand themselves in a variety of ways which are not monolithic, but fluid and changing, and cannot be defined in static or rigid terms – as is the case with most identities.
In the face of definitions purported on asexual people by some researchers, Kim argues that asexuality itself escapes these boundaries and asexual people perpetuate diversity through attempts at understanding themselves. For Carrigan (2011), asexual community members transform these boundaries and definitions through their collective activity. Asexual individuals can shape the conversation about their identity by resisting current narratives and forming new ones about asexual identity inside and outside academia. This requires collaboration, such as when asexual individuals research asexuality in academia or participate in research studies. Asexual people can also create knowledge that the asexual community can then incorporate into educational and awareness efforts.
The most crucial struggle around asexuality is being named a sexual desire disorder, specifically hyposexual desire disorder (HSDD), and not a legitimate sexuality. While many of these discussions are theoretical (Bogaert 2008; Brotto 2010; Brotto et al. 2015), the resulting reality for asexual individuals is not. Andrew Hinderliter (2013) states that one of the goals for the asexual community is for asexuality to be seen as a legitimate sexuality like others, not something to be cured. For an asexual individual diagnosed with HSDD (Chasin 2013), treatments can range from low dose testosterone treatments (for women) that are not approved by the FDA (Snabes and Simes 2009) to sex therapy, cognitive-behaviour therapy, flibanserin (female Viagra), oestrogen therapy, testosterone treatments, and other alternative medicines (Simon 2009). Keesha Ewers (2014) explains that many females worldwide suffer from HSDD, and several of these cases are a result of past negative experiences with sexual activity that has altered the brain’s wiring. Using something called the HURT model, these women can rewire their brains to heal the trauma and continue with sexual activity. Alyson Spurgas (2015) recalls interviews with women being treated for low female desire with Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, part of which includesAsexuality, the Internet, and the Changing Lexicon of Sexuality 88
sexual role playing, which some participants realised was conditioning them for female receptivity (for male penetrative acts) instead of increasing their own desire for the acts. These merely ‘rational knowledge claims’ (Haraway 1988) become the justification for imposing potentially harmful and irrevocable ‘cures’ on individuals who have nothing wrong with them.
Taking back control of the narratives and the very definition of what it means to be an asexual person is not merely educational activism but a form of anti- violence activism. In The Beginning and End of Rape: Confronting Sexual Violence in Native America, Sarah Deer (2015) discusses the harm that sexual violence does to identity:
If our sexuality is part of that which defines who and what each of us is, then it is at the very core of our self-identity. I think this is because the very nature of sexuality represents the best of humanity – the creation of new life, or the sharing of deep mutual affection and attraction. When this manifestation of our humanity is violated, it has life-changing ramifications for one’s feelings about self, others, justice, and trust. (xvi-xvii)
Deer’s argument is for autonomy over one’s own sexuality as part of one’s own humanity, something that is violated with sexual violence. Likewise, the same logic can be applied to the asexual community. The denial of autonomy in defining one’s own sexuality is a denial of humanity that also has ‘life- changing ramifications’ such as suicidal ideations, interpersonal violence, lack of trust of others and medical/psychological practitioners, and lack of education around identity, an injustice in itself, as mentioned in the introduction.
While Deer articulates that sexual violence is a weapon of war and means of control and power, I argue that systematically denying self-definition and autonomy is also violence. Both are different and distinct types of violence, but violence nonetheless. Researchers who support the pathologisation of asexuality as a sexual disorder are building an institutional response to lack of sexual attraction that treats patients on the assumption that everyone should want to engage in – heterosexual – sexual activity. This institutional response is fuelled by interpersonal interactions – the idea that, within society, people interact with each other under the assumption that everyone should want to engage in heterosexual sexual activity. These interactions push people into seeking medical interventions and personal counselling, which attempts to ‘cure’ asexual individuals and which, in turn, further fuels the interpersonal responses, a revolving cycle that perpetuates itself. There is nothing new about curing sexuality with an interconnected web of violence.89 Sexuality and Translation in World Politics
Chasin (2017) notes that sexuality as a category exists as a divisive political
issue that separates people to discriminate, criminalise, and cure.”
Societal Challenge and Depression, Self-Esteem and Self-Concept Clarity in Asexuals (University of Colorado Boulder)
"A number of scholars studying asexuality have argued that although Western society is certainly “sex negative” in some ways, Western society also systematically privileges sexual identifications, desires, and activities while marginalizing different forms of non- sexuality, to the detriment of asexually identified individuals (for example, Chasin, 2013; Emens, 2014; Gupta, 2015a). According to some scholars, asexual commu- nity formation poses a challenge to this society-wide system of “compulsory sexuality” or “sex-normativity,” calling into question deeply held assumptions about sexuality and relationality (Chasin, 2013).A number of studies have explored one or more of the negative impacts of contemporary sexual norms on the lives of asexually identified individuals. According to this scholarship, asexually identified individuals can face pathologization (Foster & Scherrer, 2014; Robbins, Low, & Query, 2015), difficulties in relationships and social situations (Carrigan, 2011), and disbelief or denial of their asexual self-identification (MacNeela & Murphy, 2014).In response to a direct question about whether they had ever felt stigmatized or marginalized as a result of their asexual identity, more than one half of the interviewees answered “yes,” more than one quarter answered “maybe” or “in some ways yes, in some ways no,” and around 20% answered “no.” In addition, all the interviewees described at least one negative experience attributable to compulsory sexuality. Here I offer a typology of these negative impacts of compulsory sexuality: pathologization, isolation, unwanted sex and relationship conflict, and the denial of epistemic authority. It is important to emphasize that what follows should not be taken as direct evidence of marginalization, stigma, or discrimination but as the interviewees’ interpretations of and narratives about particular life experiences.Pathologization
Lack of interest in sex has historically been pathologized by Western medical and mental health professionals (see Cryle & Moore, 2012; Gupta, 2015b). As a result, I asked the interviewees specifically about their experiences with medical professionals, and, in response, around one half of the interviewees described experiences of pathologization. For example, according to some interviewees, when they came out as asexual to family, friends, or acquain- tances, their confidants offered them medical or psychological explanations for their asexuality, and some even tried to convince them to seek medical or psychological treatment. For example, according to one interviewee, when she came out to her (then) boyfriend, he told her that low sexual desire is a mental disorder and that she should seek treatment from a psychiatrist. Another interviewee described being pressured by her parents to see a doctor: “The longer I went that way, the more worried they got. Like they used to keep telling me to go to a doctor and tell them what I’m feeling and then see if they have a pill that can cure me.” In addition to the one half of interviewees who reported pathologization, two interviewees expected to be pathologized if they came out as asexual.
Around one third of the interviewees (7, n = 29) reported that they were led by a
number of factors (especially relationship difficulties) to consult a health profes-
sional in an effort to find an explanation for their asexuality and/or in an effort to increase their level of interest in sex. Oneintervieweereportedapositiveexperi- ence—she enjoyed seeing her therapist but decided to stop the therapy because she did not think it would change her sexuality, and she had decided to break up with her partner. Four interviewees reported neutral experiences—the health profes- sionals they consulted were unable to find an explanation for their asexuality, and the interviewees decided to stop pursuing the issue. Two interviewees described negative experiences with mental health professionals. Hillary, a woman in her 30s, described visiting a number of therapists with her (then) husband. Of these visits, she said, “We ended up going through three different intakes for various reasons...And all of them basically thought there was something wrong with me. The last one...eventually agreed that it was possible that I was asexual, but again, I don’t really think she truly believed it. I think she thought I was a repressed lesbian.” Lorri, a recent college graduate, described her negative experience with therapists as follows: “It wasn’t just one therapist; I went to like three. And they didn’t last long. It was pretty much the same verdict: ‘go have sex and you’ll like it. You don’t know yet; you’re silly.’”
“And Now I’m Just Different, but There’s Nothing Actually Wrong With Me”: Asexual Marginalization and Resistance (Study Published in the Journal of Homosexuality)
"Asexuals were most open about their asexuality with their significant other and tended to keep it mostly hidden around their family, strangers, and authority figures. In the case of coworkers, many asexuals stated that it was not their business, though there were occasions where they felt pressured to state their sexuality. Most who hid their asexuality from authority figures did so from doctors and therapists for fear of their lack of sexual attraction being misconstrued as a symptom of an illness or mental disorder. Those who kept their asexuality hidden from the LGBT community stated that they did so because they had had unpleasant experiences with the community in regards to their asexuality in the past, while some stated that they were open with the LGBT community online but kept their asexuality hidden offline. Asexuals were asked how open they were about their sexuality on a scale of one to seven, with one being the most hidden and seven being the most open. About half of the asexuals (54%) chose three or below on the scale when asked how open they were with their families. Most stated that they hid their identity because their family was homophobic and would likely not react well to a nonstandard sexual orientation, or that past attempts to be open had received negative responses. Those who were open with their family often felt that they were misunderstood regardless of how open they were, and that their parents were displeased. One subject noted that when she ‘came out’ to her mother, she convinced her to keep it hidden from the rest of the family.
The majority (69.4%) of the asexuals who participated in the survey stated that they felt that their identity as an asexual had been challenged in the past. Those who felt they had had their identity challenged were most likely to have had it challenged by their friends, with family coming in second. Participants were least likely to have their identity challenged by an authority figure or their significant other, though approximately 14% of participants did have difficulty with their significant other’s views of their identity. The vast majority of challenges to asexuality that participants reported were phrases such as “you are a late bloomer” or “you have not met the right person.”The majority of the people who identified as asexual (69.4%) reported that they had their identity challenged in the past. It seems that the majority of asexuals, nearly 70%, have had their identity challenged or denied at some point and, judging by their comments, this has happened multiple times to many of them. The participants were the ones to decide whether they had been challenged or not, so it is possible that some people who may have had their identity challenged or denied by one definition did not by another, or vice versa. It is also possible that there are a number of people who have not had their identity denied because they keep their asexuality hidden from others for fear of rejection. Some who reported having their identity challenged may have not had it challenged directly; they may have seen something denying or discrediting asexuality on television or in a book. It may be worthwhile to see how this percentage compares to other sexualities and groups in the future. Asexuality as an orientation is a relatively new concept, and it is possible that things will change over time. LGB groups were hidden groups in the past, and LGB characters in the media started out as novel or stereotyped, but now LGB characters are relatively common, and tend to avoid stereotypical portrayals. Over the next decade or so we can probably expect to see asexuals and other non-standard sexual orientations, romantic orientations, and gender identities become more visible in the media, and in public discussions."
Inhospitable Healthcare Spaces: Why Diversity Training on LGBTQIA Issues Is Not Enough (Journal of Bioethical Inquiry)
"We contend that healthcare spaces and providers often convey heteronormative microaggressions, which communicate to LGBTQ—and, we suggest, intersex and asexual (IA)—people that their identities, experiences, and rela- tionships are abnormal, pathological, unexpected, unwel- come, or shameful. These negative messages undermine patient–provider trust and may lead LGBTQIA individ- uals to avoid care. There is evidence that diversity training does little to reduce the frequency with which providers communicate such messages (Boysen and Vogel 2008); something more must be done in order to improve the healthcare experiences of LGBTQIA people and the qual- ity of care they receive.While the experiences of intersex and asexual patients are often excluded or overlooked in the queer bioethics literature, we suspect that these individuals are also negatively affected by heteronormative microaggressions in healthcare. We therefore incorporate available data about IA patient experiences as examples of how heteronormative microaggressions marginalize LGBTQIA persons.The limited research on healthcare experiences of inter- sex and asexual individuals suggest that they are com- monly subject to explicit forms of discrimination, pathologization, and dismissal. In addition, we find examples from two categories of microaggressions: en- dorsement of heterosexual or gender normative culture and behaviour, in combination with assumptions of sexual pathology, deviance, or abnormality.Individuals who identify with asexuality regularly confront mistaken assumptions that they have a physical or psychological disorder, such as hypoactive sexual desire disorder (Bogaert 2006). They also frequently face overt challenges to the legitimacy of asexuality as an orientation; their lack of sexual activity is instead suggested to be due to not having met Bthe right one^ yet (The Sex Information and Education Council of Canada 2012). Having their identity understood and respected as an orientation on the sexuality spectrum without having it pathologized explicitly or implicitly is a continual struggle for this population. A 2012 study found that asexual persons were commonly subjected to sexual minority prejudice, severe dehumanization, con- tact avoidance, and discrimination (MacInnis and Hodson 2012). Asexuality runs contrary to the prevail- ing heteronormative schema, since these individuals do not share the sexual orientation or proclivities that are deemed to be normal and healthy under this limited framework. As a result of not having sexual impulses that fit this schema, asexual persons encounter disbelief and doubt when it comes to the authenticity and value attached to their identity and preferences. There is evi- dence of microaggressions against this population in popular culture, where Bmockery and humor are being used in ways that derogate asexual or those suspected of being asexual^ (MacInnis and Hodson 2012, 726). Dis- missive attitudes and constant suspicion of pathology will likely contribute to microaggressions in clinical contexts. Asexual patients may feel uncomfortable dis- closing their orientation, since their asexuality may be misconstrued as a symptom or as a medical dysfunction.
More research is needed to investigate the microaggressions experienced by intersex and asexual people in healthcare settings and their impact on care. However, we can extrapolate from extant research to say that intersex and asexual people experience environ- mental and systemic microaggressions similar to LGBTQ populations. Intake forms without space for queer relationships or transgender status also preclude the indication of asexuality or intersex status. Further- more, health education which barely addresses LGBT health likely includes little to nothing about these groups (Institute of Medicine 2011, 65). These features com- municate to intersex and asexual people that they are unnatural and unexpected."
Stories of Non-Becoming: Non-Issues, Non-Events and Non-Identities in Asexual Lives (Journal of Symbolic Interaction)
"I thought it was a good idea just in case ... Because people do have hormonal imbalances ... Maybe it was because of that, so I went for the blood test. And I was absolutely convinced they would find something wrong ... A couple of weeks later, rang up the surgery. ‘Yeah, the tests are back: perfectly normal.’ ... I was a bit disappointed, yeah, ’cos I thought there’d be a fix. (Nate)Partic- ipants in our study who did positively self-identify realized that the concept was relevant after comparing themselves to significant others in their social milieux, from friends and family to media representations. The sexual imperative (Przybylo 2011) was culturally pervasive: as Liam said, “It just comes up. It’s just everywhere.”
A is Not for Ally: Affirming Asexual College Student Narratives (University of Vermont)
Asexuality is one of the least researched and most commonly erased sexual identities, particularly in the field of higher education (Mollet & Lackman, 2018). In fact, most mentions of asexuality in the literature refer to the fact that it is under-researched but do not elaborate on issues facing asexual people. In literature, the term asexual is often used to refer to the condition of lacking sexuality or sexual appeal. In reality, asexuality describes the lack of sexual attraction, which is different from sexual behavior and desire in that one can desire sex or engage in sexual behavior without experiencing sexual attraction (Carrigan, 2011). Social norms and lack of information warp most people’s understanding of what asexuality means, which is perpetuated by the lack of visibility that the world grants asexual people. Such invalidation is exacerbated by the fact that asexuality is commonly viewed as a monolithic identity, meaning that the asexual identity is viewed separately from the intersection of other social identities. Realistically, sexuality does not exist in a vacuum and incorporates the intersection of other social identities (most notably race and gender) that may cause even more nuanced versions of invisibility oppression.The misinformation that is spread about what asexuality actually is further impacts the invisibility that asexual people experience. The common narrative of asexuality is that it represents the lack of sexual desire when in reality asexuality represents a wide variety of different perspectives, desires, attractions, and behaviors. Although asexuality may be perceived as pathological or symptomatic of mental or physical illness, asexuality is an identity and not a disorder (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). Especially in the college environment, where most people expect students to experience sexual attraction in very high levels, such pathologization can deter students from seeking needed help to alleviate the pressures of the college experience.
The pathological view of asexuality causes many asexual people to resist discussing their sexual identity with mental health professionals out of fear of a wrongful diagnosis. In a study of students’ utilization of college counseling services based on sexual identity, asexual college students were the only demographic that showed a lower counseling utilization rate than straight students (McAleavey, Castonguay, & Locke, 2011). I have personally experienced fear of my identity being pathologized, fearing that seeing a therapist or other mental health practitioner would result in the invalidation of my self-identification as asexual. Queerness has long been attributed to mental illness and has been pathologized for centuries (Denton, 2016), making it an overt act of oppression to participate in the continual stigmatization of asexuality as a problem to be “fixed.” This only adds to the marginalization and erasure that asexual students experience in higher education settings.
Mental Health Disparities by Identity Among Gender and Sexual Minorities (Obstet Gynecol Clin North Am.)
“When it comes to identities within the community that are more marginalized and less recognized or understood by broader society, such as asexuality or trans/nonbinary identity, the representation is even less. Over the course of this literature search, it appears that the largest amount of research on mental health disparities had been conducted on lesbian, gay, and bi individuals as a single group, sometimes labeled “sexual minorities.”Asexuality is virtually never represented in media, and is either unknown or misunderstood by the majority of society (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). Asexual
people in their personal lives also experience significant dismissal and rejection of their identities (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). So if psychological research continues to perpetuate this marginalization, it will be another way in which people of asexual, bisexual, and trans identities experience adversity and underrepresentation in society.
The lack of representation of asexual, bisexual, and trans identities in psychological research and broader society may also mean that the individuals with these identities also experience the most severe mental health disparities. However, due to the limited research, this is difficult to determine.In particular, asexual individuals experience stress talking to health professionals due to fear of pathologization and worry they won’t be able to advocate for themselves and their identities (Foster & Scherrer, 2014).Additionally, many asexuals report having negative experiences and mistrusting mental health professionals as a result of the practitioners seeing asexuality as something to be “fixed” (Foster & Scherrer, 2014).Asexual, bisexual, and trans people experience more marginalization in society in general, and although this marginalization extends to psychological research, the research that has been done shows that mental health disparities are more severe for these particular groups.Research has found that asexual people have more difficulty with interpersonal relationships and mental health markers than other non-heterosexual groups (Yule, Brotto, & Gorsalka, 2013).
These mental health difficulties can be attributed to increased experience of minority stressors. Asexuality is a marginalized identity in a society like ours that places so much emphasis on sex, resulting in asexual identity being disbelieved and invalidated (Foster & Scherrer, 2014).Asexuals also report being mistreated by mental health professionals on the basis of their identity. They report that mental health counselors diagnose them with sexual disorders, citing the fact that the asexual client’s sexual identity causes them distress, but don’t acknowledge that the source of their distress is social rejection and lack of understanding, not the identity itself (Foster & Scherrer, 2014). Due to these experiences, asexual individuals may not be able to access adequate mental health care, widening mental health disparities for this community.Trans people have also historically been excluded from the “gay rights” movement, and asexual people are often ignored or viewed as not really being part of the sexual minority community (Foster & Scherrer 2014; Barr, Budge, & Adelson, 2016). So another risk factor for these identities may be that they do not have access to the social support needed to protect against some of the adverse effects of minority stress, which is another reason that they tend to have the most severe mental health disparities.”
Challenging Accepted Scripts of Sexual “Normality”: Asexual Narratives of Non‐normative Identity
and Experience (Journal of Sexuality and Culture)
“ That these participants were treated as pathological is unsurprising as hetero- sexuality is still “established as the foundational sexual identity” within society and, as McRuer (2006) noted, all other sexual identities are “always and every- where supplementary—the margin to heterosexuality’s center” (2006, p. 301). To discipline excesses of sexual identity, especially asexuality, a category of “real” must be created (Salamon 2010). Asexuals are deemed real (and given minimal power and privilege) based on specific characteristics that interact with other identities that are viewed as privileged. In addition, real asexuals cannot offer an excuse for their asexuality, so they must be mentally stable, have never been abused, and physically healthy (Chasin 2013). Real asexuals must have previously tried sex and, though they must not enjoy sex, they also cannot be overly dis- gusted by sex (Chasin 2013). Finally, real asexuals must fit into the gender binary and assume the label of hetero-romantic, aromantic, or (occasionally) biromantic orientations (Chasin 2013). Deviance from any of these characteristics is seen as “a sign of non-normativity and exclusion” (Vitulli 2010, p. 157). Clearly, identity formation and performance is affected and influenced by “social factors such as dichotomous thinking about sexuality” and antagonism toward sexual minorities (Rust 1993, p. 54).“
Asexuality: Classification and Characterization (Archives of Sexual Behavior)
“Specifi- cally, asexuals also frequently explained that what was wrong with asexuality was something outside of their control (e.g., “something wrong genetically,” “hormone problem”). As discussed earlier, there is an expectation that a person should experience sexual desire, or they may be characterized as having “Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder” or “Sexual Aversion Disorder.” Asexuals may feel pressure to conform to this expectation, but frame the abnormality as a problem with the social expectations (or their physical health), which is out of their control (Rubin, 2000). This has implications both for asexuals who may seek treatment and for under- standing disorders of sexual desire.”
Asexuality: Sexual Health Does Not Require Sex (The Journal Of Treatment And Prevention)
“The lack of sexual interest or desire that asexual people experience has historically been pathologized as a disorder (Gressga rd, 2012). The authors believe that this exclusion furthers the experience of invisibility described by asexuals and contrib- utes to the discrimination which they experience. In a study investigating inter- group bias towards asexuals, asexuals were evaluated more negatively by participants. They were viewed as less human than other sexual minority groups, and contact with asexual people was considered less desirable than contact with homosexual and heterosexual people (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). This recogniz- able bias fuels the pathologizing of asexuality and reinforces a need for the inclu- sion of the orientation in a contemporary definition of sexual health.
The exclusion of asexual people from the working definition of sexual health, presented in this issue by Southern (2018 in press), erases any acknowledgement of the sexual experiences of asexuals. This exclusion can influence not only any positive and healthy sexual experiences, but also any negative or clinically signifi- cant ones. The result then, is that all data related to the sexual experiences of asex- uals are not observed or studied, effectively disabling any definition from gaining a more nuanced understanding of sexual health for this emerging population.
Excluding or pathologizing of asexual experiences, reflects an implicit a disqual- ification of the subjective experience of persons choosing this lifestyle. Asexuality itself is not considered a “problem” within the asexual community (AVEN, n.d.). While other sexual minorities may be validated in their sexual desires, a lack of sexual desire transgresses the social narrative that all people naturally have sexual desire. As such, to maintain the status quo, asexuals are placed into an “other” cat- egory and deemed pathologically troubled. It is this mindset, that all people must have sexual desire to be sexually healthy, that leads to the exclusion of asexual peo- ple from the current definition of sexual health.”
Coming To An Asexual Identity: Negotiating Identity, Negotiating Desire (from Sexualities: Sage Journals)
"As suggested throughout, there are myriad connections between asexuality and other sexual minorities. First, asexuality shares an association both historically and presently to medical institutions with other margin- alized sexual desires and behaviors. Yet, while activists and scholars have challenged the connections between medical discourses and same-sex desire (Conrad and Schneider, 1994; Kraft-Ebbing, 1886 [1959]; Rubin, 1984), diagnoses associated with asexuality (such as Sexual Aversion Disorder and Hyposexual Desire Disorder) are relatively unexplored. These similarities motivate collaboration in political strategy, as both asexual people and other sexual minorities who are in conversation with medical discourses might collaborate for a more complete transformation of these discourses. The lack of visibility and awareness of asexuality is a barrier to its inclusion in other sexuality-based political action groups.While a historical and contemporary relationship with discourses of medicine are shared, LGBTQ identities also have a historical relationship with legal institutions as gender presentation and same-sex behaviors have been prosecuted by legal institutions (D’Emilio, 1983; Rubin, 1984). Asexuality, on the other hand, has been largely unnoticed by legal insti- tutions, perhaps in part because of its lack of behavior and desire. In some ways, because asexuality is defined as a lack of behavior or desire, it has escaped attention, which is a clear departure from the experiences of other marginalized sexualities.
Asexual and LGBTQ groups also share similarities as both have created identity-based communities. As research documents, gay, lesbian, trans- gender and BDSM individuals use sexual identity communities to find support, relationships and to engage politically (D’Emilio, 1998; Rust, 1992). This is similar to how asexual individuals describe the functions of asexual communities. These communities not only serve similar functions, but both asexual and LGBTQ people are using internet technologies to form community (Jay, 2003; McKenna and Bargh, 1998; Turkle, 1995). While both utilize the networking possibilities of the internet, queer communities have additional visibility in physical spaces such as bars, bookstores and social service organizations that cater to LGBTQ ident- ities. Furthermore, there are cultural symbols that represent the desires, identities and behaviors of LGBTQ identities and subcultures (such as rainbows or pink triangles), whereas symbols of asexual identities and and subcultures are not yet generally recognizable. Thus, while both asexual and LGBTQ identities have identity-based communities, the forms and functions of these communities are distinct.
While the aforementioned aspects are more social-structural, asexuality shares a similar social-psychological process of coming to an identity as other marginalized sexual identities. As Paula Rust says, sexual identity is ‘a description of the location of the self in relation to other individuals, groups and institutions’ (Rust, 1996: 78). Given this understanding of sexual identity, bisexual, asexual, gay and pan-sexual individuals all draw on existing language, their current social situation and the social and cultural meanings associated with these identities to place themselves in relation to other individuals and institutions and to accurately describe their internal sense of self. Additionally, asexual individuals, as well as gay, bisexual or queer individuals, often share a sense of their sexuality as biological and innate, despite descriptions of coming to these identities that reveal profoundly social experiences.
In this article, I have described a few of the intersections between asexuality and other marginalized sexualities. This analysis is far from exhaustive, but it highlights the similarities between these sexualities and creates a need for further exploration of the overlapping social and political agendas of these marginalized sexualities. Not only are asexual identities interesting in their own right, but they contribute to a broader understanding of the construction of sexualities."
Romantic Identity and LGBTQ Identification: Variations of Experience in the Asexual Community (Portland State University)
"As far back as at least 1977, asexuality have been stereotyped as either a religious choice or a psychological disorder (Johnson, 1977), on the rare occasions that it was known of at all. Such inaccurate generalizations persist today; Prause and Graham (2007) found that two of the most common themes in participant's descriptions of what experiences they expected asexual people to have had included “a psychological problem” and “a very negative sexual experience”. Furthermore, the cultural assumption that all human beings must be sexual has led to asexual people being made the target of homophobia from those who assume anyone not displaying heterosexual behaviors must be homosexual (Chasin, 2014). Finally, evidence suggests that asexual people may experience greater levels of poor health (Bogeart 2004), confusion and psychological distress as a result of having to navigate a world that assumes sexuality as the norm (Chasin 2014).
Gender also factors into asexual discrimination: for one, asexual women have historically been disproportionately presumed to be neurotic or sexually dysfunctional as a result of sexual repression or past trauma (Johnson, 1977). Also, asexual transgender individuals, who make up around 10-20% of the asexual community (Asexual Awareness Week, 2011), experience an intersection in oppression between their asexual and transgender identities. This is the result of the fact that both identities defy gender normative expectations by rejecting heteronormativity and cisnormativity respectively (Chasin, 2014).
Another issue asexuality faces is its potential overlap with the DSM descriptions of sexual desire dysfunctions. This could lead to asexual people being incorrectly and unnecessarily labeled as mentally ill. In response to this problem, Bogeart (2006) worked to make a distinction between asexuality and pathology by comparing and contrasting asexuality with Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder (HSDD). This study determined that asexuality should not be equated with HSDD, since there are key differences between asexuals and people diagnosed with HSDD. People with HSDD are generally in distress as a result of their lack of sexual attraction or drive, while asexual people are much more likely to be content with their asexuality and to have no wish to “fix” it. Also, HSDD typically only lasts for a limited time period, while asexuality is generally life-long. Finally, many asexuals still experience some amount of sexual drive or pleasure, while HSDD sufferers do not (ibid.).
Prause and Graham (2004) also contributed to the issue in their study of the general characteristics of the asexual population. While self-identified asexuals were found to have lower levels of sexual interest and arousability, they did not show any significant variation in sexual inhibition compared to non-asexuals. Yet, they also found that higher percentages of asexuals compared to non-sexuals suggested asexuality was the result of a biological flaw, such as “something gone wrong genetically” or a “hormone problem”. Given that the findings of this study also indicated that asexuals also thought that asexuals experienced more negative attitudes from society compared to non-asexuals, Prause and Graham (2004) suggest that asexual's feelings of being biologically “wrong” may be a result of the social expectation that everyone has and is interested in sex. This may result in asexuals being socialized into believing that they are in need of a medical diagnosis.
These findings suggest that labeling all lack of sexual interest and/or drive as the result of pathology is problematic and may contribute to feelings of wrongness or brokenness in asexual people. Raising awareness about asexuality as a marginalized sexual orientation through its inclusion in the LGBTQ+ acronym would be helpful in dispelling these harmful misconceptions. (I would like to note here that there are asexual individuals who link their asexual identity to trauma or mental illness, and that these people’s identities are valid. The point I wish to make here is that defining all asexuality as pathological or trauma-induced is incorrect and damaging.)
Finally, while studies on explicit negative attitudes towards asexuals remain mostly non-existent, there has been research done that has found such prejudiced attitudes in two studies of intergroup bias against asexuals (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). This research found that among heterosexuals, homosexuals, bisexuals, and asexuals, asexuals received the greatest amount of negative attributions and were most likely to be dehumanized based on assumed lack of “uniquely human” emotional experience. While further studies would be needed to cement these findings, they still indicate that explicitly negative and discriminatory attitudes exist against asexuals on a comparable level to homosexual and bisexual people."
Crisis and safety: The asexual in sexusociety (Sexualities)
“Pathologies of non-sexuality become assigned to those individuals who do not repeat sexually or who do not enjoy repeating sexually. The DSM-IV-TR: Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (American Psychiatric Association, 2000) identifies the following sexual disorders in women: hypoactive sexual desire disorder, sexual aversion disorder, female sexual arousal disorder, female orgasmic disorder disorder, dyspareunia, and vaginismus, a proliferation which serves to reflect very accurately the compulsion to repeat sexual desire, orgasm, and coitus (American Psychiatric Association, 2000; Basson et al., 2001:
6
84). In a certain sense, the absence of sexual ‘urges’ becomes more problematic
than an overabundance of them, as is strangely crystallized by a triad of sexologists in 1998 who ‘plead for the introduction of a category on excessive (or hyperactive) sexual desire’, whereas the addition of new and varied sexual lack pathologies does not need to be pleaded for (Vroege et al., 2001: 239). And as Gavey suggests, the problem may not lie in disordered women, so much as in a lack of interest in the sex that is being repeated as ‘normal’, ‘the kind of sex on offer’ (2005: 112). Leonore Tiefer reminds us that we should be wary of regarding the DSM as a neutral source indexing reality, but remember instead that it is itself a cultural production invested in a gendered and heterosexist system (1995: 97–102).
But then, the abundance of sexual disorders should not be particularly surpris- ing if we consider sexusociety’s repeated conviction of the naturalness of sexuality, advocated even by critical sociologists such as Seidman who speaks of sexuality as a natural force akin to eating and sleeping, saying that ‘[s]exuality, in other words,
7
is built into our biological make-up’ (1989: 299). In such a climate, not to be
interested in repeating along demarcated lines of sexuality signifies pathology, and sex therapy becomes invested with an assumption ‘that the goal is to be sexual’ (Cole, 1993: 192). Or as Rubin relates, sexual deeds which are not particu- larly high on this sexual hierarchy ‘are vilified as mental diseases or symptoms of defective personality integration’ (2006 [1984]: 530). This impetus to pathologize those who are not sexual enough, or who do not repeat sexuality faithfully to ‘the norm’, is indicative of which repetitions are favoured by sexusociety. But it also, and more relevantly, embodies sexusociety’s interest in maintaining a society that repeats along sexual lines.“
A Rethinking of Gray Asexuality: What do we Learn from an Undefinable Identity? (Colby College)
“Psychological research into Asexuality had the goal of countering a misconception that Asexual people are just repressed (Tucker). Despite this however, Tucker also accidentally revealed that researchers initially played into another misconception – that being that there is a pathological reason underlying asexuality. The film (A)sexual uses a combination of psychological research as well as following prominent members of Asexual communities such as David Jay to try and show that Asexual people are normal too. It shows the alliance between Asexuals and researchers for the political goal of not being pathologized, by using tactics that have been paved by other LGBT comminutes. This is in a large part because of where the fights were taking place for Asexuality (Aicken et al. within Carrigan). While Asexuality was not criminalized, it has been medicalized. Not only was Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder the most widespread sexual “dysfunction” as defined by the DSM, but many psychologists also described it as one of the hardest to “treat” (Flore, within Carrigan). Attempts to “treat” Asexuality are seen as harmful to Asexual people, and has been likened to conversion therapy, and yet have been common in the past, but has remained a common refrain not only from friends and family, but also from therapists for people when they reveal their asexuality (Gupta 2017). Because the contact point for Asexuals was within the private sphere of the medical, and therapeutic realm, rather than police, the law, or public violence, it makes sense that the battles would be fought in the realm of clinical psychology and for the DSM. For Asexuals the threat of violence occurs through moments of visibility, such as coming out to family, friends, partners or medical professionals, and this violence is not only on the epistemic level or denial of possibilities. People who are Asexual are at a higher risk of corrective rape, and then being denied that it was rape for various reasons that relate to their Asexuality (Decker, 61-62). For this reason Visibility
30and Education have become the key goals for the Asexual community, visibility and normalization for social support, and working with researchers to show them that Asexuality is a sexual orientation and not a disability as a basis for protection from those who are medical professionals and also those who are not.
Yet this medicalization also points to why online communities were so important to Asexuals. As described in (A)Sexual, the online forums were the first place where Asexuals got to define themselves in public, rather than being defined in private and being isolated by psychologists. Yet this formation through an online community affects who has access to Asexuality, and the Asexual population tends to be younger, better educated, and Whiter than the general public because of this. As explained by Michael Paramo, the creator of The Asexual Journal, a mixed medium journal that contains both artistic and academic views on Asexuality, White people have more access to the community because of this, and because the conversations are happening in White spaces it can be more alienating, and less visible to people who are not White. Additionally, significantly more women identify as Asexual than men, which people have not really come to a consensus about its relevance or importance. Multiple possible answers have been posited to this question, such as that men simply have not found it, or that men might be more discouraged from being asexual, or even knowing about it, or just that people labeled as men and women have vastly different interactions with sexuality. These conversations rarely ask the question why more so many women and nonbinary people identify as Asexual, but rather ask the question “where are the men.” Lastly essentialists have also made a claim to this disparity, using it to point to gendered differences of sexuality and Asexuality as being rooted in the body.
We can see this motive of visibility and self-definition as evident in the types of knowledge produced by Asexuals for a larger audience. In addition to Tucker’s Asexual, and
31work that psychologists have done, Julie Decker’s book The Invisible Orientation: an introduction to Asexuality captures this intersection of knowledge and visibility about Asexuality. In the book she describes (as well as her production of the book proves) the value of visibility for people who are Asexual, and the importance of basic definitional work that still needs to get done, not just for the general public, or researchers, but also for people who are Asexual but have not realized it yet. This book uses the psychological research that has “proven” Asexual people are not “broken,” as well as what is said to be common knowledge within the Asexual community to help normalize, and raise visibility about Asexuality. This issue of visibility is a one that I would like to focus on within Asexuality, because of the double meaning of invisibility within Asexuality. Not only is there relatively little visibility or information about the Asexual community, rendering it invisible, but a fundamental feature of Asexuality is its apparent invisibility. In an age of sexual liberalism, where people are expected to be having sex and also identifying it, Asexuality becomes something that is required to be made visible, not only because of the definitions of Sexuality, but also because it goes against what is expected of liberal sexual individuals. Through defining Asexuality as a lack of sexuality, it is not made visible until it reaches a contact point with sexuality, because people who are Allosexual are not constantly being sexual throughout their lives. This makes the contact points themselves oftentimes invisible, since sexuality has been relegated to the private sphere, until the internet “gave” them a place to make this private public. However, we can also see that there is an imperative to make this invisibility visible both because there are contact points that are harming Asexuals, and because of our modern sex politics, according to Milks and Cerankowski “Gayle Rubin famously wrote, ‘The time has come to think about sex.’ ... but now the time has come, we suggest, to also think about asexuality.”
Asexuality and the Health Professional (an article in Psychology Today by Julie Sondra Decker, author of “The Invisible Orientation”)
“ Over the course of more than two decades identifying as asexual and interacting with hundreds of other asexual individuals, I have heard an incredible number of horror stories from people led astray by the professionals they trusted.I spoke with a young woman who was prescribed testosterone to boost her "sex drive" when she didn't have words for why she didn't want her boyfriend the way he expected. The professional treated her for low libido, without truly hearing what she was saying about not finding anyone attractive and not intrinsically enjoying sex. She said the treatment had effects on her voice that she regretted, and did nothing to improve her life.
I know another woman who thought desiring sex was a necessary facet of keeping a husband. She was treated by at least three medical and psychological professionals--none of whom suggested that lack of sexual attraction to others was one manifestation of normal. All assumed desiring sex was categorically better than not doing so, and no one asked her why she wanted to pursue this. It was simply taken for granted by everyone involved that she could not access fulfillment by staying the way she was.I spoke with a young man who did not desire his fiancée the way she wanted him to, and during pre-marriage counseling, the therapist encouraged his wife-to-be to harass and pressure him for sex despite his discomfort because he just needed to "get over the block" through aggressive confrontation. His distress was considered unimportant, and his partner was not asked to question any beliefs she had about compromise and alternate routes to intimacy.I've heard multiple tales of asexual people whose mental health practitioners treated their orientation as a symptom of a disorder or as a disorder in and of itself, and refused to see it as anything other than pathological.In all of these cases, the professional irresponsibly assumed that experiencing sexual attraction and sexual desire is always the ideal to which their patient should conform, and they were willing to recommend rather drastic medical, social, and psychological interferences without examining whether achieving (or tolerating) the supposed norm would result in a happier life for the seeker.
The general population looks to its "experts" to help them define what is worth worrying about, and in this way, psychologists, psychiatrists, medical professionals, sex educators, sexuality professionals, therapists, counselors, researchers, and other authorities are saddled--for better or for worse--with drastically affecting the reality of those who access their services. It's unfortunate, then, that some of these folks remain out of touch with the reality of their patients and clients. Homosexuality wasn't removed as a disorder from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders until the 1980s, but even now there are professionals who treat some or all types of queer orientations as aberrant. Asexuality was never explicitly listed as a disorder in the DSM, but Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder and some other sexuality variations were often attached to mental health patients who presented with a persistent lack of sexual interest in or attraction to others, and only in the most recent edition of the manual is asexuality even mentioned to exist.Some researchers, psychologists, and other professionals have taken their cue from the multitudes describing their asexual experience and have asked the responsible, difficult questions about sexual diversity as it encompasses the asexual spectrum, but others have chosen to repeat entrenched assumptions that perpetuate an oppressive culture of compulsory sexuality, and anyone who trusts these irresponsible practitioners risks their mental and physical health.It is vital that any professional involved in discussing and examining sexuality understand the true diversity of its spectrum, and they must acknowledge that asexuality is part of it. Leaders in medical and psychological fields must develop the ability to challenge their own personal convictions about sexuality's relationship with intimacy and fulfillment. Too often, the people in whose hands we place our personal care betray that trust by reacting like the average layperson: "Oh yes, that's a problem. Let's fix it." It's doubly important to recognize that some people with mental and physical illnesses or abusive pasts are also asexual, and that the intersection of complex elements of identity do not invalidate asexuality (in general or in each particular case). In other words, mentally ill and physically ill asexual people do exist, and their asexual identity, while sometimes completely irrelevant to other conditions and situations, is not always completely separable from their complicating factors--which does NOT make it less legitimate. Asexuality isn't a diagnosis, and it isn't something that can only exist if nothing else explains or intersects with a person's asexual experience.“
Asexual People’s Experience with Microaggressions (City University of New York)
(This study is a 45-page document detailing the types, sources, and effects of microaggressions. For space restrictions, I have only included the conclusion.To read the complete study, check out the library.)“This study was done to discover if asexual people experience microaggressions, and if so, how the microaggressions manifested, who they came from, and what mental health effects they may have. Information from this study was also collected to inform further research, as well as increase competency for mental health care providers that have asexual clients. This study supports the proposition that asexual people do experience subtle discrimination known as microaggressions. The themes found were similar to the themes found in other research on LGBTQ identities (Nadal, 2011). The microaggressions came from the expected sources similar to other microaggression studies, such as family, friends, and the media. They did report some more overt forms of discrimination in the form of attempted sexual assault and nonconsensual touching that appeared to intersect with their gender identity; the participants all identified as women and women report a 1 in 5 rate of rape in the United States (NSVRC, 2015).
Discrimination has long been associated with negative mental health outcomes and distress, and microaggressions are starting to be associated with negative mental health outcomes as well (Nadal, 2011). It is important to know that asexual people are facing this form of discrimination and how it affects them so it can be combated and access to support and needed mental health care can be provided. Microaggressions also can come from healthcare providers and even mental health providers, as indicated in this study and others (Shelton & Delgado-Romero, 2011). Providers should be able to recognize the common microaggressions against asexual people so that they can avoid perpetuating microaggressions in the future and they can provide more competent and compassionate care. Microaggressions and discrimination have been previously shown to have negative effects on the mental health of LGB individuals, and the asexual participants in this study reported that microaggressions caused them increased anxiety, relationship stress, discomfort, and depression. Considering LGB people also report higher levels of mood disorders and personality disorders compared to heterosexual people, it is important to know what may be contributing to this, as they may be a population at a greater risk of negative mental health outcomes and in need of greater care (Yule, Brotto, & Gorzalka, 2013). They also may be seeking therapy more frequently because of their mental health and it is important to be culturally competent and aware of what asexual people face as a population. If health providers become aware of the experiences of asexual people, these individuals would be spared the need to explain their sexual orientation and freed from experiencing microaggressions in a health care setting where they need treatment.”
Asexuality and the mental health sector: a submission to the Royal Commission into Victoria’s Mental Health System
“Asexuality is still considered a mental illness
Asexuality is still widely considered a mental illness, despite no evidence that it causes distress, ill health, harm to others, or other negative effects, in and of itself. This classification has had, and continues to have, devastating consequences for the mental health of asexual people.
The belief that asexuality is a mental illness is captured through both its formal classification as such (see below), as well as extremely pervasive attitudes among healthcare professionals, and the wider community, that a person who claims to be asexual is at best a liar, confused or socially incompetent, and at worst broken, mentally ill and in need of ‘fixing’. Unfortunately, attempts to ‘fix’ asexual people are not limited to health professionals, with a 2016 survey1 of over 9000 asexual people finding that 45% reported attempts or suggestions by others to fix or cure them.
For decades, asexuality (although under different names) has been classified as a mental illness by virtue of its defining features being classified as such. Recent editions of the World Health Organisation’s International Classification of Diseases (ICD) have included the official diagnoses of ‘frigidity’, ‘hypoactive sexual desire disorder’, ‘hypoactive sexual desire dysfunction’ and ‘anhedonia (sexual)’. Recent editions of the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) have included the official diagnoses of ‘inhibited sexual desire’, ‘female sexual interest/arousal disorder’, ‘hypoactive sexual desire disorder’, ‘female sexual arousal disorder’ and ‘male hypoactive sexual desire disorder’. Thus, the right and expectation for asexual people to be able to live free of medical oppression is over 30 years behind that of same- sex attracted people, with homosexuality being officially de-pathologised and removed from the DSM in 1973. In 1973, the Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatry Federal Council was world-leading, as the first professional body to declare homosexuality not to be an illness. I hope that Australia, led first by Victoria, will once again be a world leader in liberating people from medical oppression based on sexual orientation.
Only in recent editions of the DSM and ICD have required that a person must be experiencing significant distress as a result of their ‘symptoms’ in order to be diagnosed with disorders such as those listed above. However, in practice, the requirement for innate distress is little-known and little-supported among practitioners. And it is rarely if ever actually applied before pathologising non-distressed asexual people, and labelling them with the above diagnoses, or other more general psychiatric diagnoses. Thanks to the advocacy of some brave asexual individuals, recent editions of the DSM have finally included an exclusion from the diagnosis of ‘hypoactive sexual desire disorder’ for people who self-identify as asexual. However, this exclusion is widely unknown, dismissed or directly opposed by health practitioners, and the long shadow of the cultural legacy of pathologising asexuality remains overwhelmingly dominant in medical culture, and the mental health sector. Furthermore, due to the pervasive social invisibility of asexuality, many people are unaware of its existence, and thus are unable to protect themselves from inappropriate mental illness diagnosis by self-identifying
Alongside these asexuality-specific diagnoses, some traits, behaviours or lifestyle factors that may stem from some asexual people’s orientation (for example lack of sex drive, disinterest in sexually intimate relationships, and lack of interest in social activities that occur in highly sexualised environments) are also often inappropriately attributed to more general psychiatric diagnoses, such as depression or social anxiety, or other diagnoses such as autism spectrum disorder. This problem is heightened by standardised clinical surveys and questionnaires which
1 2016 Asexual Community Survey Summary Report, Bauer et al. 2016
https://asexualcensus.files.wordpress.com/2018/11/2016acecommunitysurveyreport.pdfSUB.0002.0028.03140003
unintentionally capture asexual traits, and erroneously attribute these to mental illness. For example, survey items that refer to ‘loss of sex drive’ or ‘disinterest in sexual relationships’.
‘Conversion therapy’ remains the dominant and accepted clinical response to asexuality
Due to the official classification of asexuality (under various names) as a mental illness, as well as general medical and community acceptance of the notion that a person claiming to be asexual is broken or mentally ill, there is widespread acceptance of the notion that asexual people must be ‘fixed’.
The notion that asexuality must have its ‘root cause’ identified, and then must be ‘treated’ and ‘fixed’, is widely accepted and promoted as best practice care in the medical community and healthcare system. The most common and first line responses to the disclosure or discovery of a person’s asexual identity, traits or behaviours are pathologising and interventionist in nature.
In mainstream physical and mental health services, asexual people are often coerced into repeated hormone tests, invasive physical examinations, use of invasive physical devices, coercive mental health interventions and medications in misguided and ultimately vain attempts to ‘fix’ our orientation. We are oppressed not only by the mainstream mental health and general health systems, but also by more fringe players such as non-clinical religion-peddling interventionists. These practices are as futile, and as harmful, for asexual people as they are for people of other orientations. This systematic oppression, coercion, prejudice, invalidation and shaming – even if well-intentioned – can and does cause devastating harm to asexual people’s mental and physical health.
There has been increasing awareness of the devastating harm caused by attempts to change the sexual orientation of people who experience same-sex attraction through so-called ‘conversion therapy’. However, asexual people and the harm they experience from these practices have been left out of the conversation, and look set to be left out of the protection afforded to LGBTI people under the Victorian government’s proposed ban on conversion therapy. As such, due to entrenched stigma, prejudice and invisibility, which sustains inertia and casual discrimination among the public and health practitioners, asexual people remain ‘fair game’ for conversion therapy and medical intervention.
No widely influential healthcare professional organisation, government entity, mental health or patient advocacy group, or other widely influential entity, is on record with a strong, public statement specifically supporting asexual people’s right to be protected from the devastating harm of conversion therapy and pathologisation. The government needs to show social and cultural leadership by denouncing conversion therapy being inflicted on asexual people, and ensuring the wording of the proposed legislated ban on conversion therapy encompasses and protects asexual people.
Pathologisation, discrimination and the persistence of conversion therapy are major barriers to accessing mental health care
Like people of all orientations, asexual people can and do sometimes require mental health support, or experience mental distress or illness. These difficulties may be related to the pervasive stigma, discrimination or oppression they face in connection with their orientation, or they may nothing to do with their orientation at all. There is increasing understanding that higher rates of mental distress and illness among same-sex attracted people reflect preventable negative experiences in society (e.g. discrimination and harassment), rather than being the innate consequence (or indeed cause) of their orientation in and of itself. However, due to the shadow of pathologisation, practitioners and lay people alike remain primed to attribute asexual people’s psychological and emotional distress to their alleged ‘sexual disorder’. This approach is also common among mental health services and practitioners.
Research shows that asexual people’s interactions with health professionals, if their orientation or related traits become known, are often and repeatedly harmful, unhelpful and alienating. When asexual people disclose their orientation to healthcare professionals, or aspects of their asexual lifestyle become apparent to those professionals (such as being well into adulthood and never having been sexual active), the responses are often damaging, stigmatising, invalidating and pathologising. Responses range from dismissal (‘asexuality doesn’t exist’, ‘you just haven’t met the right person yet’) to derision (‘maybe you can’t accept that you’re gay’, ‘maybe you need to make more of an effort with your appearance’, or even just laughter) to well-meaning but completelySUB.0002.0028.03140004
misguided attempts to ‘save’ or ‘fix’ the person (‘we need to check your hormones’, ‘you should see a psychologist’, ‘you need to try this medication’).
Health practitioners – including mental health practitioners – also often become fixated on a person’s asexuality, to the exclusion of being able to focus on any other aspect of the person, or the person as a whole. This occurs even when the person’s orientation has little or nothing to do with the reasons they are consulting with that practitioner. The concept of an asexual person is so alien, and the compulsion to fix them and restore the practitioner’s sense of a universally sexual social order so strong, that practitioners can become blinded by it. A person’s orientation can also become the default explanation for almost any issue the practitioner can plausibly (or indeed implausibly) connect it to – reducing the person to their orientation alone, and denying them the dignity of full personhood.
Health practitioner fixation on asexuality can be highly problematic for individuals experiencing mental distress, who can find their actual concerns sidelined by the practitioner’s desire to change their orientation. For example, in my 20s, I once attended a mental health service to seek help after I was a victim of a physical assault by a person in a public setting. My goal was to be able to once again comfortably visit similar settings, without fear or flashbacks. Early in my first appointment, the practitioner asked whether the assault was affecting my intimate relationships. After clarifying that she meant sexual relationships, I stated that did not have such relationships. She then asked if I thought it might affect my ability to form such relationships in the future. I explained that I did not anticipate wanting to form such relationships in future, so that was not a relevant problem. From that moment, she became fixated on my lack of interest in sexual relationships, and insisted that fixing that ‘problem’ must be the goal of my treatment. She insisted that if I did not accept that goal, I was not truly committed to healing my trauma. I told her I was proud of and grateful for my orientation, and did not wish to pursue a change in orientation as a goal of treatment. She refused to continue to provide care if I would not submit to the goal of ‘awakening my sexual self’. Versions of this experience are common for me, and research shows they are common among asexual people generally.
Facing these kinds of issues repeatedly, asexual people are often forced to withhold the truth about our orientation, or actively lie about it, in order to access mental health care (or indeed physical health care) that focuses on the issues that are important to them, rather than their asexuality. We are hesitant to disclose our orientation to health professionals – with the 2016 survey finding that 76.8% of asexual respondents were ‘out’ to “none” of their medical professionals (with only 2.8% out to all of them), and 75.7% were out to “none” of their counsellors (with only 3.9% out to all of them). This well-founded disclosure hesitancy negatively affects the quality of the care we receive, and also prevents us from being able to access support for distress we may experience as a result of discrimination, stigma, harassment etc related to our orientation.
Pathologisation is a major barrier to accessing physical health care
Similar problems with the pathologisation of asexuality also occur when asexual people seek physical health care. The pathologisation of asexual people in physical health care settings also contributes to poor quality care, poorer health outcomes, impaired access to services, inappropriate referral to mental health services, and the need to withhold and/or lie about one’s orientation in order to receive required care.
For example, I once consulted a GP about a physical health problem. The physical health problem had an effective treatment, but the treatment was often not tolerated by many patients because it had negative impacts on sexual functioning. He did not mention this treatment option to me, as he had already decided, without asking, that such side-effects would be intolerable to me. When I raised the possibility of accessing the treatment, he told me that I wouldn’t want it because of the sexual side-effects. When I insisted those side-effects were not a problem for me, and I therefore wanted the treatment, he found my conviction about this baffling. He repeatedly pressed for an explanation until I had little choice but to disclose my orientation.
From the moment of disclosure onwards, the practitioner could focus on nothing else. Despite my repeated resistance and reassurances that my orientation is one of my favourite things about myself, and that my hormone levels had previously been checked and were normal, I left that appointment with pathology requests for hormone tests, a prescription for a hormonal medication, and a referral to a sex therapist – all of which were forced upon me. I took them to appease him and escape the situation, with no intention to use them. I left withSUB.0002.0028.0314_0005
no treatment, advice or plan for the non-sexual physical condition for which I actually consulted him. I left with false ‘solutions’ to something that wasn’t a problem, and no solutions to the thing that was a problem. This is just one of countless examples, and represents an exceptionally common experience for asexual people.
Asexual people’s mental health is detrimentally affected by hate crimes, stigma, discrimination, bullying, harassment and other oppressive experiences in society
Asexual people who are ‘out’ (or who are ‘outed’) are particularly at risk of being subjected to hate crimes, discrimination, harassment and bullying – as well as to the wider mental health effects of stigma and oppression. Constant bombardment with oppressive experiences, with little societal or social narrative that provides hope for change, opposes this negativity or supports them, has serious consequences for asexual people’s mental health. The 2016 survey found 75% of asexual respondents reporting that discrimination and prejudice about their orientation negatively impacted their mental or emotional health. The 2016 survey found that 49% of asexual respondents had seriously considered suicide, and 14% had attempt suicide. Like other people who identify with a sexual minority, it is our negative experiences in society, not our orientation, that drives our elevated risk of mental distress and suicide.
While anti-discrimination and equal opportunity legislation and initiatives often cite ‘sexual orientation’ or ‘sexuality’ as protected characteristics, in reality, these protections are rarely extended to or enforced for asexual people. As with the debate between freedom of religion and freedom from religion, my attempts to invoke anti- discrimination laws to stand up for asexual people have been met with the mean-spirited semantic rebuff that the laws protect people on the basis on their sexual orientation, not their lack of one.
People who are known to be (or suspected of being) asexual are at increased risk of sexual hate crimes, including rape and sexual assault. This is particularly true for asexual women.
We are also at higher risk of crimes such as sexual harassment, blackmail, stalking and assault. The risk of these crimes, or the direct experience of them, can have serious impacts on our mental health, as well as our sense of safety, and capacity for full social participation.
Underpinning the increased risk are harmful sexual and gender power dynamics and inequities in society – whereby a person’s lack of sexual interest or desire is seen as a threat to sexual and gender dynamics in society, and/or the perpetrator’s personal social or sexual power or sense of sexual entitlement (e.g. their masculinity). Some perpetrators attempt to justify their crimes by claiming that they can ‘convert’ the woman through a forced sexual experience. Others believe they are entitled to sexual contact as the ‘inevitable’ next step after other social interaction with the woman. Others get a depraved thrill out of being the first to have sexual contact with her. Others still express pure misogynist rage at the woman’s sexual unavailability and non-participation in sexualised gender roles. There is less information available on sexual hate crimes against asexual men or asexual non-binary people, but these are also known to occur.
The lack of specific hate crime legislation in Victoria means that hate crimes against asexual people are not recognised for the aggravated crimes that they are. And the minimal provisions in the sentencing act for considering prejudice in sentencing are applied rarely, and when they are, they are applied almost mostly to instances involving race or religion.
High risk of hate crime, discrimination and harassment, as well as the common experiences of family rejection (often leading to homelessness), healthcare rejection and conversion therapy, mean that asexual people face very real threats to our mental and physical wellbeing, safety, and indeed our lives, if we are out, outed, or suspected as asexual. Therefore many, like me, feel compelled to keep our orientation secret, or to disclose it only very selectively. This has profound implications for our mental health. It stifles not only our ability to live with freedom and authenticity, but also to receive fully-informed and person-centred support from family, friends and support services.
As a result of the ongoing pathologisation of asexuality, sustained by mental health professions and the mental health sector, there is little social momentum or societal narrative opposing discrimination, stigma, harassment and bullying of asexual people. We remain ‘fair game’, left behind as social progress towards equality for other sexual minorities marches on. As significant and laudable successes on the road to equality for LGBTI people continue - such as gender-neutral marriage – there is increasing sentiment in the community that the fight for sexuality equality is close to being won. Yet, in the context of this growing complacency, asexual rights remain atSUB.0002.0028.0314_0006
least 30 years behind other sexually diverse people.”
Compulsory Sexuality and Amatonormativity in Higher Education: A Photovoice Study with Asexual and Aromantic Students (Oregon State University)
“Pathologizing someone means to treat them as psychologically abnormal or unhealthy. Let me just say right now that being asexual or aromantic is totally healthy. But the field of psychology has pathologized asexual and aromantic people since the 1970’s. (Brotto, 2010, p. 611). A major part of the psychological research on asexuality has been on the pathologization of it (Aiken, Mercer, & Cassell, 2013; Bogaert, 2004, 2006, 2012; Brotto & Yule, 2011; Broto, Yule, & Gorzalka, 2015; Brotto, Knudson, Inskip, Rhodes, & Erskine, 2010; Cranney, 2014; Hoglund, Jern, Sandnabba, & Santtila, 2012; Lippa, 2017; Prause & Graham, 2007; Poston & Baumle, 2010; Van Houdenhove, Gijs, T’Sjoen, & Enzlin 2014; Yule, Broto, & Gorzalka, 2017). This matters for this study because it illuminates the ways in which asexuality has been treated, much like gay and trans people, as a disorder and as un-human behavior that must be fixed or altered. Chasin (2014), a feminist researcher, compared the mistreatment of gay, lesbian, and transgender people by the field of psychology as similar to the ways that asexual people are pathologized and treated.
Since the 1970s, asexuality has been categorized in the Diagnostic Statistical Manual (DSM) as Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder (HSDD). HSDD is defined in the DSM as “persistently or recurrently deficient or absent sexual fantasies and desire for sexual activity” (Brotto, 2010, p. 611). According to several researchers, Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder can be challenged as a social construction (Bishop; 2013; Bogaert, 2012; Flore, 2013; Yule et al, 2013). There are several arguments against the use of HSDD as a diagnosis, including that a majority of the research up until 2013 had been done by sexuality and psychology researchersASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC STUDENTS 33
who hold biases and assumptions that not having sex is unnatural and inhuman (Brotto & Yule, 2017; Chasin, 2011; Flore, 2013). Many feminists have commented and critiqued the field of psychology for the way it has pathologized asexuality and aromanticism (Chasin 2013, 2014; Flore 2013; Przybylo, 2013; McLellan, 2015). In 2011, Pryzybylo argued that the pathologies of nonsexuality become assigned to those who do not repeat sexuality or who do not enjoy repeating it. The DSM-IV-TR identifies several sexual disorders in women: Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder, Sexual Aversion Disorder, Female Sexual Arousal Disorder, Female Orgasmic Disorder, Dyspareunia, and Vaginismus. They argue that all of these serve to repeat an androcentric model (male focused) of sexual desire, orgasm, and coitus (Pryzybylo, 2011). Feminist scholar Jacinthe Flore argues that the DSM manual does not provide measures, scales, or norms for diagnoses, yet it assumes normative sexuality against which all other sexualities can be measured and classified (Flore, 2013).
Hinderliter argued that since the mid-1990s, there has been an increasing influence of the pharmaceutical industry in treating and researching sexual problems. He used examples such as the creation of Viagra for women based on the huge profitability of Viagra for men, which Hindliter says “demonstrated sexual scientists’ poor understanding of female sexual problems.” (Hinderliter, 2013, p. 4). This led to the creation of the Female Sexual Dysfunction diagnosis, and began a collaboration of the pharmaceutical industry and sex researchers (Hinderliter, 2013; Kim, 2010).
The danger of the DSM is that it becomes a powerful bio political tool (Foucault, 1980); it creates the norms regarding sexual behavior and it can have devastating impacts on individuals lives. Throughout its history it has been an enforcer of heteronormativity and a reinforcement of procreative ideologies (Alcaire, 2015). It discursively states that there are people who areASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC STUDENTS 34
unchangeable and in need of paternalistic protection from the medical community and the state healthcare system (Alcaire, 2015). It uses its power as a tool to provide state structures with legitimacy to separate certain groups of people from society and to other them (Alcaire, 2015).
Moving on to the medical field, Gupta (2011) talks about sex for health discourse, or the use of sex as healthy for you by the medical field, which has been exaggerated by popular media. The scientific research and the popular press omit details and positions sex as universally applicable (Gupta, 2011). Sex for health claims, using science and medicine, that sexual activity leads to physical and mental health benefits (Gupta, 2011). They argue that although sex-for- health may de-stigmatize sex for some, it also increases pressure to be sexually active and contributes to the pathologization of asexuality and aromanticism, as well as other forms of non- sexuality (Gupta, 2011). This suggests that there is bias in the medical field regarding assumed sexuality that disadvantages asexual and aromantic people.
The experience with pathologization of their identities by the medical profession has led to mistrust between them and asexual and aromantic people, and has had an impact on how society views not having sex or a romantic relationship. The majority (76.4%) of respondents from the AVEN census did not choose to come out to their mental health professionals, and most reported that if they came out to their health care provider they had neutral or negative experiences (Bauer et al., 2017). Gupta (2016) did a research study where she asked the interviewees specifically about their experiences with medical professionals, and, in response, around one half of the interviewees described experiences of pathologization. Around one third of the respondents reported that they were lead to consult a health professional to discuss their asexuality, and only one interviewee had a positive visit, and it was noted that this was unrelated to their ace identity (Gupta, 2016). The legacy of pathologization is also seen in the 2015 AVENASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC STUDENTS 35
census where 10.4% of respondents had seen a mental health professional because they felt pressured to (Bauer, et al., 2017). This is important to note because although participants may have felt like their identity was valid they were still pushed to see a mental health professional to fix it. This is a similar narrative from the experiences of other sexual orientations and the mental health profession. If you are likely to be seen as crazy, unnatural, or un-human for coming out as asexual or aromantic how likely are you to do so? The next section describes the experiences of ace and aro people coming out and the discrimination they’ve experienced.“
Asexual People’s Experience with Microaggressions (A Thesis By Tamara Deutsch)
“Theme 4: Pathologization
A common theme raised in the interviews was the assumption by others that something was wrong with their health that "caused" them to be asexual. This was tied to the idea that being asexual meant that the asexual person was “broken” and that they needed to be “fixed”. Asexuality was tied to an illness and was regarded as something the participants not only could change but should want to change. This came from family, friends, partners, media, doctors, and mental health providers. A common theme was the suggestion that asexual people have a hormone imbalance and that was “why” they were asexual. One participant frustratingly reported that someone once said to them:
"'There's got to be something wrong with you.' 'Maybe it's a hormone thing.'”
One participant even reported that their doctor refused to prescribe them medication because of their asexuality:
I’ve definitely been in situations where, um, upon asking for a refill for, um, like antidepressants for example, certain physicians were reluctant to prescribe or would outright refuse, or I should say refill not prescribe, um, because they were quite certain that I uh, asexuality was a, perhaps, a direct result of my medication...
This participant also reported that health care providers not up-to-date with the DSM suggested that she may have an arousal disorder, despite the fact that self-identifying as asexual now disqualifies one from that diagnosis.”“Theme 7: Medical professionals
Some participants cited medical professionals as the source of microaggressions, primarily pathologization and ignorance. One participant reported having a doctor refuse to refill her medication because they feared her medication was “causing” her asexuality. Other providers proposed she had an arousal disorder:
"I have definitely been in situations um, particularly with healthcare providers, um, who may not necessarily be, um, you know sort of in the psychological sphere of things who may not you know, consult the DSM frequently enough to be aware of certain distinctions between like HSDD versus asexuality..."“
International Statistical Classification of Diseases And Related Health Problems
Discrimination In Education And The Workplace
How The Marginalization Of Asexuality Occurs At School And Work
A common misconception is that institutional oppression (which is also sometimes called systemic oppression) is merely laws against a certain group of people. In reality it is often much more complex than that; institutional oppression takes form in various systems within society. This could be the legal system, the medical system, the educational system, and more. In order to understand the framework of oppression, many activists use “The Four I’s Of Oppression” by The Chinook Fund. The definition given of institutional oppression is “the idea that one group is better than another group and has the right to control the other gets embedded in the institutions of the society--the laws, the legal system and police practice, the education system and schools, hiring policies, public policies, housing development, media images, political power, etc”. The full document is attached below.Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
Development and validation of the Attitudes Towards Asexuals (ATA) scale (Journal of Psychology And Sexuality)
“ Discomfort renting and hiring3
Discomfort renting to and hiring (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012) heterosexuals (α = .95), homosexuals (α = .96), bisexuals (α = .96) and asexuals (α = .98) was assessed using four items (e.g., ‘Indicate how comfortable you would be renting an apartment to people from each of these groups?’), rated on 11-point scales, with separate 4-item measures for each group. Scores were reverse-coded, with higher scores indicating greater discomfort rent- ing and hiring.”
LGB within the T:
Sexual Orientation in the National Transgender Discrimination Survey and Implications for Public Policy
This study examines sexual orientation and discrimination experienced by transgender people, an important step in analyzing the intersectionality of gender identity and sexual orientation.An important note about the data: Although only 264 asexual people responded, the researchers analyzed the data to make sure it was significant. The data with two asterisks are statistically significant, and those with one are statistically significant in the context of the complete study.
Age of Participants (Interestingly, asexual respondents skewed older)
Employment and Education
National LGBT Survey 2017 UK
The link above leads to the interactive data set. In the PDF library I have also included the analysis provided by researchers that the quotes arise from.
“Amongst cisgender respondents aged 16-64 years old, there were notable differences in the rate of employment according to sexual orientation. The highest was that of gay and lesbian respondents (88%), and the lowest was that of asexual respondents (63%) (Figure 7.1).”“ As with cisgender respondents, there were notable differences by sexual orientation; heterosexual trans respondents had the highest rate of employment (74%) compared to those with other sexual orientations, particularly asexual respondents (50%), those with an ‘other’ sexual orientation (54%), and pansexual respondents (61%) (Figure 7.3).”“Openness varied markedly by sexual orientation; gay and lesbian respondents had been most open, with 18% not having been open with any of their senior colleagues, compared to 77% of asexual respondents (Figure 7.6).”“As with cisgender respondents, there was notable variation by sexual orientation. Gay and lesbian trans respondents were the most open group, with 27% not having been open with any of their senior colleagues, compared to 57% of asexual trans respondents (Figure 7.10).”“ As with cisgender respondents, there was notable variation by sexual orientation; 55% of gay and lesbian trans respondents, 55% of queer trans respondents, and 61% of heterosexual trans respondents had been open with none of their customers or clients, compared to 77% of asexual trans respondents (Figure 7.14).”“For cisgender respondents, the reactions of others in the workplace to respondents being LGBT or being thought to be LGBT varied considerably by sexual orientation; 48% of gay and lesbian respondents reported only positive reactions, compared to, for example, 20% of asexual respondents. By gender, more men (47%) reported purely positive reactions than women (38%) (Annex 7, Q52).”“By sexual orientation, heterosexual trans respondents (39%) had experienced purely positive reactions to a greater extent than those with minority sexual orientations, which ranged from 22% of asexual respondents to 37% of gay and lesbian respondents (Annex 7, Q52).”
In the past 12 months, have you had a paid job at any time?
Age of Respondents (relevant in analyzing employment)
In the past 12 months, how many people in your workplace, if any, were you open with about being LGBT?
In the past 12 months, how many people in your workplace, if any, were you open with about being LGBT? (Customers or Clients)
In the past 12 months, how many people in your workplace, if any, were you open with about being LGBT? (Senior Colleagues)
In the past 12 months, how did others in your workplace react to you being LGBT or because they thought you were LGBT?
In the past 12 months, did you experience any of the following in your workplace because you are LGBT or others thought you were LGBT?
Think about the most serious incident in the past 12 months. Which of the following happened to you?
Who was the perpetrator(s) of this most serious incident?
Did you or anyone else report this most serious incident?
After you reported this most serious incident, did the negative comments or conduct stop?
Why did you not report this most serious incident?
Which of the following sectors does your current or most recent job fall into? (*Not immediately relevant but I thought it was neat)
“ Gay and lesbian respondents were the least likely to have been open with none of their classmates (8%) and asexual respondents the most likely (18%) (Figure 6.6).”“Openness with all teaching staff was generally low amongst all sexual orientations, ranging from only 43% of gay and lesbian respondents to 81% of asexual respondents saying that they had not been open with any teaching staff. [Cisgender respondents]”“By sexual orientation, asexual trans respondents (57%) were the most likely to have been open with none of their teaching staff (Figure 6.12).”“ For cisgender respondents, the reactions of others to them being LGBT or thought to be LGBT varied by sexual orientation; 47% of gay and lesbian respondents reported only positive reactions, compared to, for example, 31% of asexual respondents.”“These respondents argued that there should be more LGBT-specific education within secondary schools and that it should become more nuanced by, for example, discussing the different kinds of sexual orientation in more overt terms, exploring the potentially fluid nature of gender identity, and exploring LGBT history and culture. They noted particularly that those who do not have ‘mainstream’ LGBT sexual orientations, for example those who identify as asexual, would be especially vulnerable if only presented with heterosexuality as the norm.“
In the last academic year, how many people at your educational institution, if any, were you open with about being LGBT? (Classmates)
In the last academic year, how many people at your educational institution, if any, were you open with about being LGBT? (Non-Teaching Staff)
In the last academic year, how many people at your educational institution, if any, were you open with about being LGBT? (Teaching Staff)
In the last academic year, did you experience any of the following at your educational institution because you are LGBT or others thought you were LGBT?
Think about the most serious incident in the last academic year. Which of the following happened to you?
Who was the perpetrator(s) of this most serious incident?
Did you or anyone else report this most serious incident?
Did you or anyone else report this most serious incident?
Why did you not report this most serious incident?
After you reported this most serious incident, did the negative comments or conduct stop?
Were sexual orientation and gender identity discussed at school in lessons, assemblies or in any other part of your schooling?
How well did the discussion of sexual orientation or gender identity at school prepare you for later life as an LGBT person?
How understanding were your teachers and other staff of issues facing transgender, gender fluid and non-binary pupils in general?
ACT Aces: Asexual
Experiences Survey
Anchorage LGBT Discrimination Survey: Final Report
"I’ve been private about my life for years, at my current job only one colleague knew anything about my orientation, and it was within two weeks after that disclosure that I was fired. — Cisgender asexual female respondent"
Asexual Student Invisibility and Erasure (in Rethinking LGBTQIA Students and Collegiate Contexts)
“Unlike other minoritized sexual identities (e.g., pansexual, bisexual, lesbian, gay), a common assumption about asexuality is that asexual people do not experience marginalization. For example, a student recalled someone asking, “How are asexuals marginalized for not having sex?” The student then explained “we tend to be taken advantage of (I’ve heard many other asexuals complaining of non-consensual sex or rather painful [things] done to please his/her partner)”. In a study focused on understanding how heterosexual collegians’ perceived les- bian, gay, bisexual, and asexual people, MacInnis and Hodson (2012) found that heterosexual students had less desire for future contact with asexual students than they did with LGB students. Their study participants also expressed more dehu- manizing perceptions about asexuals than they did about lesbian, gay or bisexual people. These findings detailed that in the specific context of their study, the heterosexual participants held more negative views about asexual students than LGB students. This should not be interpreted as a universal maxim or broad statement advocating for perpetuating hierarchies of oppression; rather, these findings are the first that identify to systematic and societal marginalization of asexual people in college contexts.
For asexual students, they also encounter and experience the pervasive societal assumption that all people experience sexual attraction as an innate human char- acteristic. A student described how the assumption of omnipresent sexual attrac- tion influenced his thoughts and behavior:
It bothers me a lot when everyone around me feels sexual attraction and is acting on it ... I just want to feel it. I have acted sexually with people, not because I actually wanted to, but because I wish that I wanted to. I also get jealous of friends who have sexual relationships, because it seems important to them and I feel left out.
The social assumptions of sexual attraction can leave asexual students doubting themselves, feeling othered, broken, or as if something is wrong with them (Mollet, 2018). Another student explained, “When I started university I was not even aware of asexuality so I felt even more like I was an outsider or something in me was broken.” The foundation for these feelings often emanates from socialization that perpetuates the normativity of sexual attraction; this socialization is called allonormativity, which is derived from a word developed in the asexual community, allosexual. People within the asexual community created the word to reduce stigma of asexuality by providing an alternative to the juxtaposition that people are either normal (i.e., sexual) or different (i.e., asexual). The prefix allo- is commonly used when referencing variation or difference. In this context, the word allosexual literally means people who have a different sexual identity than asexual (i.e., people who experience sexual attraction), which centers asexuality instead of pushing it to the margins.
Research on the prevalence of heteronormativity in higher education abounds (e.g., Abes & Kasch, 2007; Tillapaugh, 2015) suggesting its omnipresence; yet the first article about unique antiasexual bias did not emerge until 2012 (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012) and the first research detailing asexual students’ experiences with allonormativity was presented in 2018 (see Mollet, 2018).“
At the beginning of class, we anonymously submitted sexual facts about ourselves, which the professor read aloud. I had said, “I’m asexual, will probably be a virgin for life, and think porn is far more hilarious than arousing.” Several students snickered, as if that was preposterous, some muttered “What the fuck ...” and the professor had said, “Wow, I hope this person changes their mind ...”
Experiences like this indicate a need to create more understanding academic spaces for asexual students to learn in safer environments. Together, these exam- ples emphasize the importance of increasing visibility and providing training for all faculty and staff about asexuality to make certain that they are adequately versed on the realities of asexuality.
The hyper-sexualized and sex-positive ecology of many college campuses minimizes spaces for asexual students to experience a sense of belonging. Although some may assume asexual students should be included in, and feel welcome in, campus environments for other students with traditionally minor- itized sexual identities, that assumption is often incorrect.
Gender and sexuality resource centers commonly provide sexual education and sex positive spaces that are affirming for LGBTQ students’ sense of belonging and identity development. Even when resource centers do not prioritize their spaces as sex positive, asexual students may assume the spaces are overtly sexualized because of historic and institutional allonormative narratives. Beyond the perception of LGBTQ spaces as hypersexualized, also other con- texts may deter ace students from finding a sense of belonging in existing LGBTQ campus spaces.
Many ace students report experiencing animosity from within the LGBTQ community in addition to the heterosexual community. Aggression or violence coming from within the LGBTQ community represents horizontal hostility “as a prejudice shown by members of a minority group toward members of a similar minority group that is perceived to be more mainstream” (White & Langer, 1999, p. 538). Some asexual students described experiences in campus sexuality and gender resource centers of horizontal hostility, “to asexuality because it’s allegedly not real and/or hijacking LGBTQ.” In response, the student com- mented, “Asexuality needs to be visible and known about so asexuals feel normal and are supported by their communities.” This experience highlights how a see- mingly affirming space for students with minoritized sexual identities became an oppressive space.
Asexual students who also have other queer identities (e.g., transgender, gender queer, biromantic, panromantic) may find community within LGBTQ spaces. However, they generally did not describe their ace identity as the iden- tity they associated with belonging in LGBTQ groups (Mollet, 2018). As one student described: [A]s a gender fluid person who prefers “same sex” and non-binary partners, I do understand my asexuality as a part of my queer experience. I am not sure I would see it the same way if I was cis and heteroromantic or aromantic.
This student acknowledged their gender and romantic attraction as the identities they most associated with their involvement with the LGBTQ community. Other aces who engaged in LGBTQ groups even acknowledged that they actively hid their asexuality in LGBTQ spaces because they feared, or had experienced, overt hostility from LGBTQ peers based upon their asexuality (Mollet, 2018; Mollet & Lackman, 2018). The participant above also named an ongoing discourse about cisgender ace students who identify as heteroromantic or aromantic. Beyond exclusionary narratives and gatekeeping that may seek to limit involvement for these students, some heteroromantic aces actively distanced themselves from LGBTQ spaces because they did not want other students to associate them as part of the LGBTQ community.
The limited visibility of asexuality inhibits the opportunities for students to connect and engage with other asexuals in person. While some institutions (e.g., Iowa State University, Emory University, Duke University, University of Col- orado Boulder) have moved towards creating asexual student groups and/or spaces, they remain largely uncommon. Further, the invisibility exacerbates chal- lenges for asexual students who try to share their identities, Thus, online com- munities such as AVEN serve an important role for many asexual students to connect with other ace people (Carrigan, 2011; Scherrer, 2008) while learning about and exploring their identities (Mollet, 2018). However, AVEN is not the only digital platform utilized by asexuals. Thriving environments have been cre- ated in other platforms like Tumblr, YouTube, and Reddit.
These digital spaces provide positive benefits for those who are able to locate them. Unfortunately, many of these platforms, forums, pages, videos, and more are only available to those who are aware of the language. When looking at platforms like Tumblr and Reddit, it is highly unlikely students who are unaware of asexuality will inadvertently stumble upon an ace page or thread. This helps to create a safer environment for which students across the ace spectrum can develop their community and within that community establish norms like in-group lan- guage. In the overwhelming absence of physical spaces, the digital communities represent one of the few spaces for asexual students to learn about their identities or engage with others about their experiences as ace students.
Asexual Erasure
Asexual erasure represents another prevalent strand of allonormativity within higher education. Whereas invisibility emphasizes the near complete absence of asexuality, asexual erasure relates to the perpetuation of allonormativity and the attempted obliteration of asexuality. There are many examples and indications of asexual erasure in society and within higher education. For the purpose of this chapter, we focus on three aspects of asexual erasure. First, asexual erasure occurs broadly as social norms (e.g., the over sexualization of society, the prioritization of relationships/coupling) dehumanize, obscure, or problematize asexuality. Era- sure also emerges interpersonally when people challenge the epistemic agency of asexual students. Third, erasure happens within the asexual community based upon the precursive contexts of the online community development. The fol- lowing sections further describe and explain these three aspects of asexual erasure.
Erasure Through Social Norms
As discussed previously, allonormativity represents the ways society and people in society perpetuate and reinforce the idea that all people experience sexual attrac- tion. The focus on sexual attraction emerges in assumptions that all people want (and should want) to engage in sexual behavior. In higher education, allonorma- tivity and sexusociety are advanced in many contexts such as fraternity and sor- ority life date parties that place value on assuming all students seek a coupled (generally heterosexual) non-platonic relationship, within the continuation of campus hookup culture, campus sexual education programs that fail to mention how some people may not experience sexual attraction. Faculty and academic course materials also perpetuate erasure of asexuality when faculty members dis- miss asexual students’ identities when disclosed (or asexuality more broadly) and exclusion of asexuality from curricula including and beyond human sexuality, sociology, and psychology. Narratives about campus sexual violence also perpe- tuate the idea of an unknown perpetrator, which erases the experiences of many asexual students who encounter sexual violence from people they know who think sex will “fix” the asexual students (Mollet, 2018). These and other exam- ples demonstrate some of the many ways staff, faculty, and students reinforce allonormativity in higher education.
Sexual attraction is commonly perceived as a ubiquitous characteristic of all people. In addition to the assumption that all people experience sexual attraction, western cultures perpetuate the importance of coupling. Not only is it assumed that all students are sexual but a healthy sexual relationship is often perceived as the cornerstone of a healthy relationship and committed partnership. Beyond the false assumption that all students engage in hookup culture, these assumptions also serve to erase asexual students who commonly seek other social communities with less focus on sex and/or coupling. Historically, much of the western and Christian culturally based narratives only supported people engaging in sexual relationships after becoming married. Some of today’s college students certainly still practice abstinence until marriage; however, many higher education institu- tions are sex-positive spaces where students actively engage in sexual activity (Garcia et al., 2012; Stinson et al., 2014; Williams & Harper, 2014). Providing inclusive sex education including condoms, dental dams, and other resources, which promote safe sex, are important—but such programs and spaces could also provide information about multiple types of attraction and asexuality. The increased resources would combat asexual erasure while also providing additional education for all students.
Understanding asexuality can be a challenging concept for many students who do not possess a personal connection to this identity, or to another person who identifies as asexual. The common conflation between sexual attraction and sexual behavior contributes to allonormativity because of the ubiquitous assumption that all people are allosexual. Since many humans utilize sexual intercourse in order to reproduce and/or for pleasure (of themselves or their partner(s)), there is a strong assumption that all students experience sexual attraction—when, in fact, sexual attraction is not a prerequisite for sexual behavior. Asexual students may choose to engage in sexual activity for any number of reasons (e.g., to please a partner, for stress relief, to have children) even if they do not experience sexual attraction.
In college, societal norms and peer pressure continually perpetuate sexusociety. A participant described the influences of these pressures. “For asexuals in parti- cular it is a real challenge. I am no longer in residential halls now, but when I was things were very bad indeed, with an aggressively sexual society pushing its values and sexualities onto me.” The allonormativity was so pervasive in the residence hall that this participant moved out to find a space where they could belong without pressure to engage in the sexualized living environment. Mollet (2018) described other student experiences such as students noticing sexualized adver- tisements around campus, and students engaging in sexualized jokes before/after class, more broadly, conversations about relationships frequently emerge among peers and others in higher education. A participant reflected on the experience of encountering such conversations:
I have to remain quiet and deflect ... “Why don’t you like dating?” “What’s been bugging you recently?” My response: “I don’t want to talk about that.” And I hate it. I hate not being able to be myself. But it’s not safe to talk about, so this is the way it will be.
Asexual students who choose not to have non-platonic relationships, like the student above, can experience frustration, a lack of safety, peer pressure, and uncertainty from a seemingly common casual conversation.
Erasure Through Denial of Epistemic Agency
The pervasive allonormativity and asexual invisibility also contribute towards people’s purposeful and unintentional attempts to delegitimize asexuality. There are a number of stories where ace individuals have experienced hostility and erasure when they share their asexual identity with others. After asexual students engage in understanding and meaning making around their identities, some students choose to share their identity with friends, family, partners, classmates, or others. When others respond with comments such as “asexuality does not exist” “you just haven’t found the right person yet” or “it is wonderful that you are abstinent,” these comments serve to invalidate the asexual student’s identity and their understanding of self. A participant spoke about this occurrence:
Some of my new friends at school seemed to talk about attraction in one form or another constantly, and I always felt like I just couldn’t relate. After a while, I told most of them that I identify as asexual ... But, like several peers I have talked to, some of them seemed only interested in debating the exis- tence of such an identity with me. I’ve had many people either say verbally or, more often, message me online to say something along the lines of “but all of human motivation is driven by the desire to have sex and/or procreate. So how could asexuality possibly exist?”
The comments indicated above demonstrate the way peers (and others) challenge asexual students about their identities. In essence, these remarks are akin to saying, “Your way of knowing and understanding yourself is wrong.”
The invisibility of asexuality creates labor for asexual students to learn about and make meaning of their identities. After engaging labor and understanding their identities, being met with disregard and dismissal is difficult for asexual students. For many students, after encountering such erasure, they chose not to continue sharing their identity with others (Mollet, 2018; Mollet & Lack- man, 2018). Instead, they avoided sexual identity labels or chose to share another label such as queer, which they found encountered less erasure. Other students used the label associated with their romantic orientation. For exam- ple, a panromantic student might identify as pansexual. Students’ intentional choice of language in these contexts was a strategy to avoid others invalidat- ing their identities. These strategies also decreased the amount of labor expended by asexual students in educating others when they would share their ace-spectrum identity.
While this is one depiction of an encounter, many asexual students experience hostility around their identity. The aforementioned example of a student sharing their asexual identity in class represents another context of faculty and peers challenging the student’s epistemic agency about their iden- tity. Asexual students are again challenged by the lack of awareness and visi- bility that exists. The mere experience of an ace identified individual coming out is oftentimes met with questioning and doubting of asexuality being a real experience, as described above. These acts of dismissal or erasure can nega- tively influence asexual students including contributing towards internalized allonormativity (Mollet, 2018).
Asexual Invisibility
The invisibility of asexuality manifests in research, media, pop culture, and across higher education. In this context, asexual invisibility acknowledges the absence of asexual narratives, dearth of asexual research and educational materials, and scar- city of ace-focused (or even ace-inclusive) spaces. As an example of asexual invi- sibility in higher education, if someone enters “asexuality” into the search box on a college or university website (with very limited exceptions) the search produces links to studies in biology, genetics, and references to institutional studies of reproductive processes without mention of human asexuality. Further, simply the need to provide a definition of asexuality at the beginning of this chapter illus- trates the scope of asexual invisibility. Asexual invisibility influences students in myriad ways particularly through language and space, which then perpetuates the cycle of asexual invisibility.
Invisibility Through Language
The words people select and use have meanings that are both implicit and explicit. As communities, language is used as a tool of power to create inclusion and exclusion of who/what fits and belongs in comparison to the people/things that do not (Fairclough, 2014). Our language comes from our knowledge, con- text, history, and background (Gee, 2014). In creating words, their meaning comes in context to other terms and words. Language is not neutral; the purpo- seful choice of words indicates evaluative judgments based upon inwardly per- suasive discourses and/or perceptions of the world (Rogers, 2004). Inattentiveness 82 Amanda L. Mollet and Brian Lackman
to language and discourse allows perceptions to remain implicit and the power behind (Fairclough, 2014) to remain unacknowledged and unquestioned. Failure to integrate language from the asexual lexicon in many higher education contexts perpetuates the invisibility of asexuality while perpetuating allonormativity.
Language and discourse serve important roles in society related to social iden- tities. Quaye (2013) explained how “those who control language have the means to set standards for what counts as knowledge and discourse” (Quaye, 2013, p 286). The example of Kinsey and colleagues labeling people who did not describe experiencing sexual attraction as part of “category X” demonstrates the power of language. At that time, the asexual lexicon was not broadly known and the researchers controlled the language. They also limited the discourse around par- ticipants in “category X” by deeming knowledge about their experiences as less relevant to, and excluded from, the study of human sexuality. Within higher education, a simple search of institutional websites for the word “asexual” com- monly yields a list of biology-related topics with no mention of asexuality as a human sexual identity.
In higher education, the invisibility of language emerged in both obvious and subtle contexts. For example, when people are unfamiliar with the asexual lex- icon, disclosing an asexual identity or “coming out” as asexual can involve edu- cating others. A student described this challenge:
It’s hard to come out as asexual because you have to give a definition of your sexuality before you can come out ... People almost never say “Ok” after you say asexual ... coming out stories involve responses like, “have you checked your hormones?” “Don’t say that, you’ll find somebody!” “You’re just gay.” “Were you abused?” “I can fix that.” It is really hard to come out of the closet when you know that most people are going to react by trying to stuff you back in.
Based upon online stories of other asexual people “coming out”, this student chose not to share their asexual identity—even with their counselor on campus. They continued, “All these things have kept me from coming out ... I can’t come out to my therapist right now because I really need her to be there for me ... I can’t handle her refusing to validate me.” If the asexual lexicon was prevalent within higher education, perhaps this student, and others, could share their identities without also having to define and justify them.
How might the lack of language to describe asexual students’ identities and experiences influence them and their identity development? Before asexual stu- dents find terminology related to asexuality, many assume they must be allosexual because societal discourses (e.g., friends, family, religion, media) present allo- sexuality as the only option. Without language about asexuality as part of the normative discourse, students assumed they were experiencing the world in the same ways as their peers. Students used the terminology they knew including abstinent, gay, lesbian, and straight to try and capture their identities; yet a con- tinued sense of difference led them to continue searching for language that described their identities (Mollet, 2018). A student recalled their thoughts when they finally discovered asexuality:
When I came across people talking about asexuality online, it was like they had put into words everything that I had not been able to in my head because of my lack of vocabulary/labels/language on the subject. It was like they were able to look into my head and sort out the confused, jumbled up mess. I finally had a way to make sense of how I was feeling, and everything in my head realigned itself, with all of the pieces falling in place.
This example demonstrates the influence of invisibility through language. This student knew existing language did not capture their experiences, but was unable to make meaning of their identity because they were not familiar with asexual terminology.
As indicated in the above example, it is likely that students arriving at college have never encountered discourses about asexuality. Instead, they enter higher education climates often described as advancing hookup culture (Garcia, Reiber, Massey, & Merriwether, 2012; Stinson, Levy, & Alt, 2014; Williams & Harper, 2014) that perpetuate allonormativity. The influence of ace students’ internalized assumption of allonormativity emerged in this student’s comment:
I figured the more I got with people surely eventually I would feel some- thing ... [which] usually ended up with me getting very drunk and kissing someone just to try and feel included and normal. Thankfully, I discovered asexuality and realized this wasn’t the case, and since then I have stopped attending events where I felt like I had to get horrendously drunk and kiss someone just to fit in.
Gaining awareness of the language of asexuality allowed this student into new discourses for seeing the world differently and resisting previous ways of knowing and being.
Allonormativity perpetuates the invisibility of asexuality by advancing dis- courses of allosexuality as omnipresent. This inhibits asexual students from having awareness of their identities and access to knowledge and information related to their orientation. The invisibility of asexual terminology also limits allosexuals’ knowledge and awareness of asexuality as a spectrum of sexual identities.
In the case of asexual people, they use language as a tool for attaching meaning and words to their identities and types of attraction. “Language becomes a pow- erful tool to create symbols that one uses to fashion meaning among a group of people in a particular society” (Quaye, 2013, p. 283). As has been mentioned previously, asexuality is not a monolithic identity and ace students describe their identities on several spectrums. The spectrum of asexuality includes not only identities focused around sexual attraction, but also the spectrum of romantic identity (Scherrer, 2008). The continued invisibility of language remains some- what perplexing considering the breadth of language created by people within the asexual community. The words for describing asexuality exist, but they remain absent as common vernacular, within academic literature, and within higher education spaces.
Invisibility in Physical Spaces
Research consistently identifies oppressive and hostile campus climates for stu- dents with traditionally minoritized identities (e.g., Beemyn & Rankin, 2011; Hurtado & Alvarado, 2015; Hurtado & Ruiz, 2012; Rankin, Weber, Blu- menfeld, & Frazer, 2010). In response to the negative climate (and often fol- lowing student protests and requests), institutions began creating spaces, organizations, and resources focused specifically for identity groups based upon students’ race, ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation. These foci remain important for supporting students, affirming their identities (Jones & Abes, 2013) and enhancing students’ sense of belonging (Patton & Ladson-Billings, 2010; Yosso, Smith, Ceja, & Solórzano, 2009), and have been shown to increase psychological well-being and academic achievement (Strayhorn, 2012). Yet, broadly, such spaces (e.g., resource centers, student organizations, identity- based academic groups) do not exist for asexual students. This is due to not only a lack of awareness around asexuality, but also a lack of physical spaces where asexual identified students can feel safe to explore their identities, develop community, or find resources.
The invisibility of asexuality in common discourse not only makes it difficult for asexual students to learn language for describing their identities but also per- petuates the broad invisibility of asexuality on campus. When the faculty and staff on campus remain unfamiliar with asexuality, the spaces they occupy also perpe- tuate allonormativity and the invisibility of asexuality. Without any physical locations specifically designated as welcoming and affirming spaces for asexual students, they search for places to discuss their identity as a student commented “I wish there was support group from the start, especially when I was exploring my sexual identity. There is NO [emphasis in original] counselor who has worked with asexuals before...” Because the staff in the counseling center was not familiar with asexuality, the student was not able to get the support they sought. The campus counseling center, a space where all students should feel welcome, was not affirming and became another space where asexuality was invisible. Given the allonormative climate of colleges and universities, it is not unthinkable to imagine that most classrooms might also be unaccepting of asexuality. One student who had such an academic experience shared:
The previous sections have focused on the ways allonormativity perpetuates and advances asexual invisibility and erasure. In addition to the influences of allo- normativity, precursive contexts of the early online asexual movement and asex- ual research methodology also contribute towards aspects of erasure across the asexual community. Specifically, decisions by leaders, organizers, and researchers have failed to recognize all asexual people and their multiple identities. Due to the invisibility and erasure of asexuality within higher education language and spaces, online communities represent the most common resource and community for asexual students (Mollet, 2018). Thus, the forms of erasure perpetuated within the online spaces also influence students because they often do not have any- where else to turn.
Despite the increased asexual visibility attributed to AVEN, there are also problematic contexts associated with the narratives emanating from AVEN and ways they perpetuate erasure. With the emergence of AVEN, the founders’ definition of an asexual person as “someone who does not experience sexual attraction” (AVEN, 2018) became the predominant definition of asexuality used in relation to human sexual identity. Given the breadth of asexual identities, not every member of the asexual community may see themselves directly represented in this definition that can be seen as too sweeping of a generalization given the nuances found within the spectrum of asexuality. Since AVEN’s founding, members of AVEN and other ace-focused social media groups have engaged conversations about creating a more inclusive definition and moving beyond the unitary representation of asexuality.
Recent research (see Chasin, 2011; Mollet, 2018) further supports the importance of expanding the definition beyond the monolithic perception of asexual people as never experiencing any sexual attraction. As indicated by the breadth of language students use for describing their asexual-spectrum identities, a monolithic definition such as the one presented perpetuates erasure of students who self-identify with asexuality but do not align with that definition. Further, other definitions used in research focus on the absence of sexual behavior or researchers’ classification of people as asexual (Van Houdenhove, Gijs, T’Sjoen, & Enzlin, 2014). These definitions remove the students’ autonomy from self- identifying and erase students who are asexual but may engage in sexual beha- vior. Creating an inclusive definition remains a challenge for researchers, insti- tutions, and students.
AVEN also maintained a race-neutral philosophy of color-evasiveness3 that erased racial diversity of asexual people by avoiding information or discussions about race (Chasin, 2015). Not focusing on race was intended to center asexu- ality. A resulting outcome, however, was a focus on the experiences of White asexuals at the exclusion of People of Color. Asexual Students of Color did not see themselves represented within the community, some questioned if there were other asexual People of Color, or what it would look like to be an asexual Woman of Color (Mollet, 2018). Instead of creating a unified community, excluding race perpetuated the erasure of asexual Students of Color. Through this process, asexual Students of Color experience intersectional oppression of White Supremacy and allonormativity making it even more challenging for these stu- dents to find and make meaning of their asexual identities.
Researcher decisions have also erased asexual students who are not cisgen- der. Much of the limited existing research (e.g., Brotto, Knudson, Inskip, Rhodes, & Erskine, 2010; Poston & Baumle, 2010; Prause & Graham, 2007) only provided binary gender options, although 41% of the respondents in Mollet’s (2018) study identified as gender-variant (i.e., agender, non-binary, transgender, gender queer, gender non-conforming). The cisnormativity of failing to allow students to provide their genders beyond a binary excludes a potentially large portion of asexual students. This exclusion erases the iden- tities and experiences of gender-variant asexual students from inclusion in research, while also implying that their experiences do not matter and are not worth of inclusion in the research.
The examples provided in this section focus on precursive contexts that shape and contribute towards present-day erasure of asexual students. In addition to erasure of students who identify with the spectrum of asexual identities (e.g., demisexual, Gray-A), the erasure highlights intersectional oppression of White supremacy and allo-cisnormativity. The lessons learned from these examples demonstrate opportunities for higher education to do better. Asexual students vary as much in their other identities as they do across their ace-spectrum iden- tities. Erasing any of their identities limits the ability for them to exist as whole people and failing to acknowledge the intersectionality of societal oppression for ace students with multiple minoritized identities could result in ineffective edu- cation, services, and resources.
Discussion
This chapter provided an overview of tenets of asexual invisibility and erasure in collegiate contexts, which begins to shed light on a group of students previously shrouded in darkness. Guided by voices of asexual students, the chapter provided knowledge about the asexual lexicon, experiences of asexual students, and the influences of preclusive asexual contexts on current asexual students. The afore- mentioned understandings of allonormativity, asexual invisibility, and erasure provide foundational contexts towards illuminating the problem of asexual invi- sibility within higher education as well as how the invisibility influences asexual students. Since 2001, the presence and visibility of asexuality has grown drastically in online communities. As the visibility and awareness of asexual-spectrum iden- tities continues to grow, institutions are likely to see more students who identify with asexuality. The sooner campuses acknowledge asexuality as a sexual identity, the sooner they can begin examining and addressing the ways they perpetuate allonormativity.
The pervasiveness of allonormativity manifests in myriad ways that are inter- twined and cyclical in their perpetuation of allosexuality. The invisibility of asexuality limits students’ awareness and knowledge of asexuality—those who may identify as asexual and those who do not. Both of these populations need knowledge and understanding about asexuality. It should not be the responsibility of ace-spectrum students to provide visibility, awareness, and education about their identities. Institutions should create opportunities for asexual students who desire to engage as partners in the development of asexual campus spaces, services, resources, and education. Without purposeful initiatives in higher education, the ace students who are fortunate enough to research and find asexuality are likely to be those who also shoulder the burden of educating others—at the potential expense of their erasure, denial of epistemic agency, oppression, hostility, or even sexual violence.
The invisibility of asexuality in college contexts enables and supports asexual erasure. Students’ decision to share, or not share, their asexual identity is entirely their own. They should not feel pressured or obligated to share their identity. Yet, if they choose to share their asexual identity, they should have spaces and people that are knowledgeable, supportive, and affirming. When students are unable to find such people or spaces and instead encounter erasure, they may become less inclined to share their identities in the future. Without campus spaces or communities for asexual students to connect, if students feel unsafe to share their identities, they instead continue to exist in isolation—from each other, sur- rounded by allonormative messages reinforcing that they are the only one. Sense of belonging influences all aspects of students’ educational success (Strayhorn, 2012) and existing in isolation and feeling broken certainly do not support a sense of belonging. Further research should examine sense of belonging for asexual students, particularly considering asexual erasure and invisibility.
The vicious cycle of invisibility and erasure must end. Amplifying awareness about asexual spectrum identities is both imperative and insufficient. So long as students who may be asexual remain without language or awareness that others share their experiences, their healthy identity development may be difficult. Mollet (2018) acknowledged the critical role of asexual awareness in asexual stu- dents’ identity development. Several asexual students in her study described a challenging and repetitive process of trying to understand their identities and experiences while maintaining allonormative beliefs. It was not until the students searched for and found language about asexuality that they were able to begin making meaning of their asexual identities.
In higher education, asexual invisibility through language and space shift the onus of labor on asexual students to hopefully stumble upon information, resources, and community related to their identity. How should they know what to search for when they have never heard or seen language from the asexual lexicon? How would they know that they are not broken or missing something that seemingly everyone else experiences? Where can they seek community to realize that they are not alone? When asexual Students of Color and transgender asexual students are actively erased, how can they make meaning of their iden- tities and find spaces to exist authentically? With more than 1 in 20 students identifying within the spectrum of asexual identities (McAleavey, Castonguay, & Locke, 2011), these are not rhetorical questions.
Implications for Policy and Practice
Many implications exist for practitioners and administrators for deconstructing allonormativity in higher education to end the erasure and invisibility of asexu- ality. Removing allonormative structures, practices, and cultures represents an important step towards supporting asexual students, creating opportunities for students who may be asexual to finally have language to describe their identities, and creating more inclusive environments. Resisting allonormativity can also create spaces where all students can more thoroughly examine and make meaning of their senses of attraction, and consider multiple potentialities for healthy rela- tionships. Institutions need to provide broad-reaching educational initiatives that cast a wide net of awareness. Institutions must utilize resources, which do not require the labor of asexual students, for the education of faculty, staff, and stu- dents about the existence of asexual identities including the breadth of romantic and sexual identities encompassed under the asexual spectrum. For students, such examples could involve including discussions about asexuality within orientation, first-year seminars, and/or other transitional programs where institutions currently discuss campus culture, sexual violence, or sexual relationships. While developing such programs, the humanity of asexual students and the intersectional oppression experienced by asexual students with multiple minoritized identities should remain at the forefront. The dehumanizing perceptions of asexual people repor- ted by MacInnis and Hodson (2012) emphasize how simply providing definitions and discussing asexuality from a technical perspective remains inadequate. The student quotes in this chapter brought student voices and human perspectives. Those implementing asexual awareness and educational initiatives must find methods for centering the humanity of asexual students while balancing asexual students’ responsibility for educating others.
Education and awareness efforts focused towards faculty and staff may take multiple forms. Although temptation may exist for including a brief asexuality section within existing educational initiatives about students with minoritized sexual identities (e.g., Safe Zone), the invisibility and erasure of asexuality suggest more is needed. Much like student initiatives, faculty and staff initiatives should also center the humanity of asexual students. Additional considerations should include how students will know faculty and staff received training. Campuses could consider multiple options such as: office placards designating training, inclusion of asexuality with campus and office marketing materials and websites, campus notifications about asexuality trainings. While these initiatives should target all faculty and staff, the functional areas of counseling centers, multicultural resource centers, health education, and residential education represent particularly critical areas for education and visibility.
Campuses must also provide resources, services, and community space for asexual students that specifically center asexuality beyond LGBTQ spaces. While most institutions have student organizations and groups that do not emphasize sexual identity (e.g., intramurals, student leadership organizations, fine arts orga- nizations), these spaces alone remain inadequate. As a sexual identity, asexuality is about much more than students’ decisions about engaging (or not) in sexual activities. While they may create opportunities for community or engagement that does not center hookup culture, the absence of an overtly sexualized focus does not automatically make them affirming for asexual students. In addition to these opportunities, asexual student organizations, group counseling sessions, conversation groups, or other physical spaces where asexual students can meet other aces remain important. The invisibility and erasure of asexuality leaves many asexual students assuming they are one of the few, or only, asexuals on campus. For example, two students in a focus group for Mollet’s (2018) study were surprised to enter the room and see someone they knew from participation in an academic organization; despite spending four years in the same spaces, nei- ther student discussed their asexuality within the group and instead spent four years assuming there was no one else like them on campus. Asexual students, like all students, should be able to exist fully and authentically; the students’ experi- ences emphasized multiple ways current higher education environments can feel unsafe, unwelcome, and invalidating.
Educational initiatives, such as discussions focused on distinctions between types of attraction (e.g., sexual, romantic, platonic), could provide asexual stu- dents with access to valuable information for understanding their identities. Learning about multiple types of attraction benefitted asexual students in many ways such as: better understanding their experiences with attraction, gaining increased confidence with their asexual identity, identifying their relationship needs, and developing models for healthy relationships. Discussions and education about potential relationship models beyond monogamous allocisheteronormative models represents another opportunity for deconstructing normative depictions of healthy relationships. Conversations and trainings about healthy relationships may be particularly useful for all students in areas commonly associated with hookup culture (e.g., residence life, fraternity and sorority life).
Campus gender and sexuality centers can also play a role in providing space for asexual students—both physically and interpersonally. While trying to understand their identities and integrate them within their lives, some students may turn towards campus gender and sexuality centers for potential resources. For such centers, an obvious consideration centers the actual name of the center. If the center name uses an acronym, does it include an A? If so, does that A stand for ally or asexual; emphasizing ally engagement over asexual students represents another example of erasure. Centers can also include the asexual flag in con- junction when using or displaying the rainbow flag.
These campus centers may offer asexuality-focused programming and events such as celebrating asexual awareness week, but asexuality programming should not happen exclusively within gender and sexuality centers; nor should the entire responsibility of implementing these implications rest exclusively upon staff already responsible for campus initiatives for other students with minoritized sexual identities (e.g., bisexual, lesbian, gay, pansexual).
Campus health and wellness centers commonly educate students around safe sex and healthy sexualities. These conversations play an important role in creating a healthy campus culture. As such, it is crucial these educational initiatives should actively emphasize that not all people experience sexual or romantic attraction, and that some students do not engage in sexual behavior due to their lack of attraction towards anyone (instead of a conscious choice of celibacy). Clarifying the distinction between celibacy (a choice to abstain from sexual behavior) and asexuality (lacking attraction) in such contexts could reduce the erasure asexual students faced when people assumed asexuality was a choice instead of an identity.
Gaining knowledge and information about students is another way institutions can resist asexual invisibility and erasure. Including asexual spectrum identities (e. g. asexual, demisexual, gray-A) as part of institutional demographic surveys is an important step. Beyond adding ace-spectrum identities, definitions of the termi- nology should be included. Seeing the terms and their explanations on surveys may provide a pathway for asexual students who are unfamiliar with the language to further explore an identity that may resonate with their experiences. Including asexual terminology would also counter aspects of erasure by validating asexual identities. Student information provides institutions with data about the pre- valence of asexual students as a tool to advocate for increased resources and as a way to help asexual students to know that they are not alone—even if the environment is not a safe space for ace students to share their identities. Asexual student data further allows institutions to understand asexual students’ other identities to purposefully consider designing services that acknowledge and sup- port asexual students’ multiple identities. In addition to collecting the data, staff working with the data should avoid any temptation to aggregate asexuality with other minoritized sexual identities.
The implications and recommendations given above do not represent an inclusive list of all that could, or should, be done to combat asexual erasure and invisibility in higher education. Rather, they provide a few potential approaches that respond to the topics presented within this chapter. The knowledge about experiences of asexual students and the influences of their campus environments remains limited. As institutions take action towards enhanced awareness, may people also continue amplifying asexual students’ voices, removing barriers that inhibit asexual student voices from being heard, and sharing their knowledge, research, and effective institutional practices that validate asexual students.“
The emerging orientation: asexuality in equal opportunities monitoring in UK universities
"Asexuality lacks the public awareness that other sexual orientations may take for granted, and asexuals encounter dismissive or ignorant retorts reg- ularly (see Decker (2014) for examples). They include assumptions of the individual’s state of health or history; denial of the existence of asexuality; an assertion that it is a temporary state; or claims that it is ‘not human’ or alien. Coming out as asexual is also sometimes greeted with personal ques- tions about an individual’s habits, tastes, history and other orientations, which would not normally be asked of a mere acquaintance.Carrigan (2015) points out that despite growing awareness of asexuality in media and public consciousness, there remains a dearth of research and acknowledgement within higher education.
“One obvious challenge to thinking about asexuality is its con- tinued absence from textbooks and syllabi. While visibility ac- tivism by asexual people and their allies has contributed to a greater media profile for asexuality, it is still striking by its ab- sence within academia. This academic invisibility can lend sup- port to a tendency to see asexuality as pathological. It is impor- tant to remember that its invisibility does not mean it does not exist.” (p. 12)Stonewall appreciates that an open working environment has a positive benefit on both the institution and the individuals that work for them:
“At Stonewall we know that when lesbian, gay and bisexual em- ployees are able to be themselves at work, their performance im- proves. They enjoy going to work, are more loyal, more creative and make greater contributions to the organisation.” (Ashok, 2015, p. 1)
It may well be equally true for asexual individuals, who may feel pres- sured to acting contrary to their inclinations in order to avoid the assump- tions and prejudices that may face them. Without reassurances that they would be protected from harm, it is understandable that individuals would cloak themselves to avoid such difficulties and may not work to their poten- tial.
Indeed, a study by Robbins et al. (2015) suggested that, for asexuals, being asexual was an important part of their identity in many cases. On the other hand, there were fears among some participants of the study of coming out; this was due to the lack of awareness and apprehension of the possible consequences of being open:
“The public’s general lack of knowledge and understanding of asexuality was a major deterrent for those who had not come out. As asexuality is not widely accepted as a sexual orienta- tion, closeted participants chose to avoid the possibility of facing rejection and alienation.” (Robbins et al., 2015, p. 5)
This kind of apprehension was supported by the reactions that some of the participants in the Robbins et al. study experienced when trying to come out. They encountered disbelief, denial and dismissal.
However, coming out was generally a positive development in the partic- ipants’ lives, and created some closure: “Coming out as asexual resulted in a deep sense of liberation and increased personal insight for most respondents. There were no reports of regret after coming out. . . . Most participants who came out ultimately reported feeling more comfortable with themselves.” (Robbins et al., 2015, p. 7). This is in accordance with Stonewall’s state- ment that individuals can work better when content with and open about their identity.
3Equality monitoring is, therefore, an important tool for gaining an im- pression of whether there is a positive environment for any particular group. It may also highlight areas where there may be under-representation or dis- crimination, whether unlawful or otherwise.
Therefore, with this brief rationale to study the state of equality moni- toring in universities for asexual spectrum individuals, the intention of the following study is to examine the extent to which universities provide for their asexual spectrum members of staff.Only five universities from the 121 that responded allow individ- uals to state that they are asexual in their equal opportunities monitoring. Of these five, one — the University of St Andrews — per- mits its staff members to choose an ‘Asexual’ option. The other four allow individuals to select ‘Other’ and then, optionally, specify.
From the other institutions, 85 allow individuals to state ‘Other’, but with no option to clarify further. Seven institutions stated that they do not collect information on their staff members’ sexual orientation as a routine part of their equality monitoring.
There were 24 institutions that gave no appropriate option for asexual in- dividuals to select. Typically, these options were restricted to heterosexual, homosexual and bisexual orientations and to ‘refuse’ to answer.Only the University of St Andrews could report how many asexual people there are working there: none. Thirteen other institutions reported the number of individuals that selected ‘other’ but, aside from the two that had no individuals that selected ‘Other’, none could state with certainty how many are asexual.
Therefore, it is unclear how well asexual people are represented at UK universities.No specific provision
Thirty-nine universities stated that they did not offer any provision for its asexual staff members. A small number added that any requests for provi- sion would be considered; many noted that all resources and facilities were available to all staff, regardless of their sexual orientation.
Not applicable
A particular concern to the author is that twelve universities reported that this question was not applicable to their institution.
There are many interpretations that can be reached from this response. One is that the institutions have determined that there are zero asexual members of staff in their institution; however, half of these institutions do not give an appropriate option for asexual individuals to select. The other six universities could not have been able to determine how many asexual members of staff are employed at their institution from their questioning.
The most positive interpretation that the author can suggest is that these institutions do not know how they can support their asexual staff members.
Misinterpreting the definition of asexuality
There were also five institutions that appeared to misunderstand the defini- tion of asexuality. They conflated asexuality with non-binary and intersex people, with some making reference to guidelines on gender identity pro- tection and some to gender-neutral toilet facilities. While these protections and facilities are welcome, they are not necessarily pertinent to asexuality.Recommendation 3 Include asexuality and the asexual spectrum in equal- ity and diversity training. This would help to create an atmosphere in which asexuals would feel less threatened to open. By sharing an understanding and awareness of the experiences of asexual people, the workplace becomes conducive to asexual employees feeling they can be themselves.
Recommendation 4 Ensure that asexual members of staff are given the same protection from bullying, harassment and discrimination on the basis of their asexuality as individuals with other sexual orientations. Although this is not a requirement of the Equality Act 2010, it is a concern that asexual people will not necessarily warrant protection from abuse and mistreatment due to their sexual orientation. Therefore, policy documents should state that sexual orientation is defined beyond merely “straight”, “gay/lesbian” and “bisexual”."
A is Not for Ally: Affirming Asexual College Student Narratives (From The University of Vermont)
In today’s higher education system, the college experience is heavily shaped by predetermined expectations of student behaviors, especially when it comes to sex and relationships. In a heavily sexualized environment, students who identify as asexual experience significant erasure, marginalization, and violence at the hands of those around them, whether these people’s actions are well-intended or not. Student affairs practitioners must understand major issues facing asexual students and learn to center asexual narratives beyond adding performative addenda to programming and initiatives. In the next sections, I identify some of the most salient issues that affect asexual students including the erasure of asexual identities, the appropriation of asexual spaces, and the high rates of relationship violence towards the asexual community.The importance of creating spaces and opportunities for asexual students to build community cannot be understated. Asexual people are far less likely to form a community with one another than people who identify with other queer identities (Scott, McDonnell, & Dawson, 2014). Presumably, this is because asexual people are forced out of the community by both cishet and queer-identified people. One survey respondent, when asked about her experience discovering what asexuality meant, stated that “it was like coming home. I knew immediately that this was me and that I wasn’t alone” (Carrigan, 2011). Asexual students must have opportunities to build community with one another to support the development of their asexual identity and their understanding of queerness. To support the liberation of asexual students, student affairs professionals should be prepared to create space for conversations about the nuances of the asexual community beyond blanket basic education about sexuality, sexual behavior, and attraction. Additionally, student affairs professionals should be prepared to examine the intersections articulating between asexuality and other social identities in order
Meyer • 51to better support students with multiple marginalized identities.
For asexual students of color, finding community is even harder. Literature centering the intersection of race and asexuality is slim to none, but Hawkins Owen, Cerankowski, and Milks (2014) describe the racialization of Black asexual women in the context of White supremacist history in the United States. Contradictorily, the dominant social interpretation of sexuality both hypersexualizes and desexualizes Black women based on cultural depictions of Black women stemming from chattel slavery in the U.S. This construction results in an even larger margin of difficulty when it comes to the ability of Black asexual women to assert their identity. This narrative is rooted in a fictitious Black/White binary but begins to explore the racialization of sexuality and the additional difficulty that asexual people of color face in their identity development. Rarely are people of color represented in the asexual community, whether online or in person, because of the standard of Whiteness that is pervasive in the queer community. Student affairs professionals should be well aware of this dynamic when creating space for asexual students. We must anticipate that asexual students of color will find it especially difficult to form an affinity with other asexual students due to racialized expectations of sexuality.
The need to provide space for asexual students on campus includes and extends to the normalization of non-sexual acts of love and the deconstruction of sex as the pinnacle of love and attraction for all students. According to Scott et al. (2014), a large majority of asexual survey participants said that they expressed love and intimacy through non-sexual acts such as some forms of non-sexual touch, acts of care and service, or quality time that are generally considered platonic. The fact that these acts are practiced by most people, and not just asexual people, demonstrates that non-sexual acts are a way that people express affection, love, and intimacy with those they care about and should be considered just as legitimate as sexual acts. This finding also points to the necessity of non-sexual relationships, especially platonic and familial relationships, to be normalized as equivalent in value to sexual relationships. These relationships are often just as significant to people as sexual or romantic relationships but are commonly treated as inferior. This hierarchical organization of different types of relationships is not only harmful to asexual people, but also to people of all sexual identities in their expressions of love and affection.
Far and away, the most proactive step that cishet people can take to support asexual students is to distance themselves from false allyship and appropriation of asexual spaces. Not only should cishet people recognize that their inclusion in the LGBTQIA+ acronym is not necessary and pushes out queer people from their own community, but they should also be prepared to articulate the harmful nature of this practice to other cishet people who co-opt the A. The dismantlingof the “A is for ally” misconception is also a step forward in deconstructing performative allyship and reclaiming queer spaces from cishet performativity. Additionally, in evaluating the lexicons of scholarship and practice centering asexual student narratives, I call upon the student affairs community as a whole to consider expanding on these ideas and furthering the ability of the student affairs profession to address the needs of asexual students and intersectionality within the asexual community. Addressing the needs of asexual students means that there must be literature, research, and thought in the general zeitgeist to draw from in order to inform best practice. This article is not only my contribution to this very limited collection of documented ideas about asexuality in higher education but is also a call to action for student affairs professionals to more effectively center the experiences of asexual students and scholars rather than speculating about asexual experiences
Bisexual and Pansexual Identities
Exploring and Challenging Invisibility and Invalidation, 1st Edition
In relation to asexuality, some US asexual people reported that their identity was not an issue in the workplace. However, one participant spoke of colleagues responding to them coming out as asexual with some confusion. Others spoke of uncertainty around whether their friendliness might be perceived as flirting, or reported that they were expected to work extra hours due to their (being viewed as) not having a family. Another explicitly linked the lack of discussion of sexual- ities in the workplace to their asexuality being invisible (Rothblum et al., 2019).There may be other important reasons why bisexual people are not out and open in the workplace, including fear of negative attention and biphobia (Chamberlain, 2009/2012; See & Hunt, 2011). Those with diverse sexualities may find it particularly challenging to be out to managers and colleagues. Some have reported that senior staff and co-workers have responded to their sexualities with unfriendliness, discomfort, phobic responses, and aggressiveness (Köllen, 2013; Popova, 2018). Bisexual and pansexual (and asexual and plurisexual) people are also likely to experience double discrimination (e.g., both from les- bian and gay people and from heterosexual people) (Green et al., 2011; Köllen, 2013), or multiple discrimination (on the basis of other aspects of their identity) (see Chapter 3). There may also be work-specific sexuality stereotypes. These include that bisexual people are indecisive, disorganised, less reliable, and less able to complete their work as effectively as colleagues (Green et al., 2011; See & Hunt, 2011). Young people who identify with pansexual and plurisexual identities may be marginalised in ways which reflect intergenerational conflict. Those who are millennials (i.e., born between 1980 and 2000) may be perceived through the lens of media portrayals, and therefore as demanding, lazy, uncom- mitted, disloyal, and unappreciative of their employer’s investment in their train- ing (Kehoe, 2018). Biphobia and panphobia (like homophobia) may mean that bisexual, pansexual, asexual, and plurisexual people (similarly to lesbian and gay people) self-silence to self-protect. Silencing is oppressive and reflects the ongoing regulation of sexual identities in the workplace, despite wider develop- ments in recognising some diverse sexualities (Compton & Dougherty, 2017).
People may make daily decisions about whether, how, and to what extent to come out to colleagues (Connell, 2012); hence there are degrees of how out people are. Those with invisible and stigmatised social identities may be out to varying degrees, or only to particular people (Clair et al., 2005; Köllen, 2013). Bisexual, pansexual, asexual, and plurisexual people may find themselves being concerned that others might out them, and may continually assess how their openness has impacted on relationships with co-workers (Leppel, 2014; Popova, 2018). How open those with invisible identities are may also be influenced by personal characteristics (Clair et al., 2005; Köllen, 2013). Those who are dissatis- fied with the workplace, and with their personal life circumstances, may be more likely to conceal their bisexual and pansexual (and asexual and plurisexual) identities (Green et al., 2011). Passing as heterosexual – or as lesbian or gay – may impact negatively on work performance, and leave bisexual, pansexual, and plurisexual people feeling isolated and as though they lack authenticity or legit- imacy (Clair et al., 2005; Köllen, 2013). Those who are asexual may face similar challenges when passing as allosexual, or concealing aspects of themselves and their lives. Additionally, those who pass as lesbian or gay may encounter work- place discrimination in similar ways to lesbian and gay people (Köllen, 2013).People of diverse sexualities feeling able to be out and open in the workplace should matter to organisations (see Popova, 2018; See & Hunt, 2011). As a result of exclusionary workplace climates, bisexual and pansexual (and asexual and plur- isexual) people may feel overlooked and alienated at work (Chamberlain, 2009/ 2012; Köllen, 2013; Popova, 2018). To be visible and recognised in the work- place is important for people’s sense of authenticity and belonging (Buchanan & Settles, 2019). Invisibility can result in a sense of inauthenticity and feelings of loneliness and isolation (Popova, 2018; see also Buchanan & Settles, 2019; Clair et al., 2005)
It is only relatively recently that lesbian and gay people have been offered the potential protection and benefits of being included in workplace policies (Compton & Dougherty, 2017; Harding & Peel, 2007). However, bisexual and pansexual (and asexual and plurisexual) people often remain invisible within policies, procedures, and other resources (Chamberlain, 2009/2012; Green, Payne, & Green, 2011; Popova, 2018; See & Hunt, 2011). Equality and diversity policies commonly subsume bisexuality, and other diverse sexualities, under the wider LGBTQ+ umbrella (Green et al., 2011). Discrimination on the basis of sexuality may be a matter of misconduct, but bisexuality and other identities are unlikely to be explicitly men- tioned, and hence are not meaningfully included (Köllen, 2013).However, this focus on same-sex/gender relationships may not meet the needs of bisexual (or pansex- ual, asexual, or plurisexual) people, especially those in different-sex/gender rela- tionships, who may be especially invisible (Köllen, 2013; Popova, 2018). It is therefore unsurprising that bisexual (and pansexual, asexual, and plurisexual) people are sometimes under the impression that equality and diversity policies and procedures do not apply to them. They have reported feeling silenced by this exclusion (Chamberlain, 2009/2012; Compton & Dougherty, 2017). The exclu- sion of diverse sexualities is also important because workplace policies “reflect and regulate sexual norms for all employees” and therefore inform organisational norms and workplace cultures (Compton & Dougherty, 2017, p. 877).
Few research studies have specifically explored bisexual, pansexual, asexual, and plurisexual pupils’ experiences of school. Those that have indicate that the lack of inclusion or affirmation of their sexualities results in their feeling that their iden- tities are ignored and that they are excluded (Barker, 2007; Hillier & Mitchell, 2008; Lapointe, 2017; McAllum, 2014, 2018; Rothblum, Heimann, & Carpenter, 2019). In a US study with asexual students, some felt that their identity was an advantage because they were not distracted from their studies by thinking about physical attraction to others. However, other participants reported that anxiety about being different distracted them from their studies, or that they felt lonely and left out when their peers were focused on dating (Rothblum et al., 2019). Peers and teachers have reportedly responded to bisexuality and pansexuality negatively, with some invalidating these sexualities as non-existent, as a temporary stage, as women purely seeking the attention of heterosexual men, or as promiscuous, hypersexual, and linked to sexual disease (Francis, 2017; Lapointe, 2017; McAllum, 2014; see Chapter 3). In a Canadian study, pansexual students reported that peers and teachers did not understand pansexuality, or were con- fused by its disruption of sex/gender binaries. Therefore, some students took responsibility for educating others about their sexuality (Lapointe, 2017). Schools are arguably a microcosm of the wider societal context of invisibility of and hostility towards bisexuality (and pansexuality, asexuality, and plurisexual- ity) (Elia, 2010). Bisexual (and pansexual, asexual, and plurisexual) identities may also be invisible or invalidated in higher education, including on university cam- puses, and in curriculum and course content (Barker, 2007; Formby, 2017). This “systematic erasure” of bisexuality has been described as “a form of vio- lence and neglect” (Elia, 2010, p. 458). The meaningful inclusion of diverse genders and sexualities is an essential requirement if schools and universities are to be safe and supportive environments that reflect and respect young people’s identities (Elia, 2010; Lapointe, 2017). The United Nations Educational, Scien- tific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has issued policies and guidance on how to tackle homophobic bullying in schools. UNESCO members have recog- nised that bisexuality has been overlooked. They intend to discuss bisexuality in their statements (see Jones & Hillier, 2014). Whether the intention is also to include pansexuality, asexuality, and plurisexual identities is not known.
“Maybe all these random experiences form a cohesive picture”: towards a grounded theory of asexual college students’ identity development (University of Iowa)
“ Within the college context, students engaged in labor to find and understand their identities. The lack of accessible resources and information made it difficult for students to learn about asexuality. Instead, they had to devote time to online searches through social media communities with the hope of finding information that would help them put the pieces together about their identities. Their labor often came at the expense of other academic, social, or personal activities. “
Methods to Re-center the “Other:” When Discarding Outliers Means Discarding Already Marginalized Stories (Journal of Critical Thought And Practice)
“Asexuality and those who use queer as an identifier are two recent examples of identity subsets that are earmarked for more thorough study and explanation (Garvey, 2017; Hinderliter, 2009). Indeed, sometimes looking at exceptional research cases can lead to future—particularly qualitative— research questions. These case-study depictions can be presented in a quick bullet point or table pattern format including such statements as: asexual identified people may be more likely to experience social ostracization and less likely to meet with their teachers out of class or queer students are more likely to hold a campus leadership position. The goal here is not to define these categories because “to define what queer is . . . would be a decidedly un-queer thing to do,” but highlight the multimodal experiences present in queer theory driven research (Sullivan, 2003, p. 43).”
How The Law Underprivileges Asexuality
Asexuals Have No Legal Protection Under The Law
A common misconception is that because asexuality is not illegal in any country, that systemic oppression of asexuals does not exist. A growing body of work by the Stanford Law Review and The Hastings Women's Journal has begun to look at the ways that asexuality is underprivileged under the law. There is no legal protections for asexuality, and as such there is no way to track any hate crimes or lesser acts of discrimination actually occur. I have pieced together what little data I could find, but in order for any accurate conclusions to be drawn, asexuality must be protected under the law and the statistics behind hate crimes and other legal implications must be thoroughly tracked and analyzed.Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
A Study of the Reporting of Bias Motivated Violence Incidents In the Denver, Colorado Area in 2017
“The intent at the beginning of the project was to collect data solely through a survey of victims of bias motivated crimes in the study area. This was done as the focus of the project was initially to test a process to collect data to compare with the data in the FBI’s annual Hate Crime Statistics report.Of the 67 respondents 61 indicated their sexual orientation. The most common sexual orientation respondents reported with 23 (37%) was Heterosexual, followed by Gay with 21 (34%) respondents choosing it and Lesbian with eight (13%) respondents choosing it. The remaining nine (16%) respondents indicated they identified as either bisexual or asexual.“
Racial and Ethnic Differences in Experiences of Discrimination in Accessing Social Services Among Transgender/Gender-Nonconforming People (Journal of Ethnic & Cultural Diversity in Social Work)
“The only difference on sexual orientation was that individuals who identified as asexual were more than twice as likely (OR = 2.37, 95% CI = [1.03, 5.46]) to have experienced discrimination at domestic violence shelters than heterosexual individuals.”
Taboo and Transgression
Transdisciplinary Perspectives on Migration, Integration, and Diversity (Chapter titled: Hate Crime: Violently Policing Transgressions of Perceived Parameters of Acceptability)
“This chapter also draws on narratives of hate crime submitted by the trans community in Ireland to STAD (Gaelige for ‘Stop‘), the Transgender Equality Network Ireland‘s third party hate crime re- porting mechanism for transphobic hate incidents, which the HHRG analysed and reported on with that organisation for the period 2014–2016. Across the three year period to which this analy- sis relates, a total of 46 reports were submitted to STAD. Most provided a detailed narrative ac- count of the hate crime to which the respondent was subject. The respondents identified the grounds on which they were targeted as including gender identity, gender expression and sexual orientation. Respondents who perceived sexual orientation to be a factor identified variously as gay, bisexual, straight, queer and asexual.”
Healing the Harms:
Identifying How Best to Support Hate Crime Victims (A study on hate crime victims that have reported the crimes to the police, conducted by the University of Leicester)
“91% (1387) of participants described themselves as heterosexual. 3% (40) identified as being gay, 1% (19) as bisexual and the same percentage as lesbian (18). Smaller proportions identified as asexual (7) and pansexual (4).”
Police-reported hate crime in Canada, 2017
“From 2010 to 2017, 31 hate crimes targeting transgender or asexual people were reported by police participating in the Uniform Crime Reporting Survey (version 2.2). Of these crimes, nearly half (15 incidents) occurred in 2017 alone. Even though the overall number is small relative to other hate crimes, those targeting transgender or asexual people were more often violent, with 74% of incidents involving a violent violation.”
LGB within the T:
Sexual Orientation in the National Transgender Discrimination Survey and Implications for Public Policy
This study examines sexual orientation and discrimination experienced by transgender people, an important step in analyzing the intersectionality of gender identity and sexual orientation.An important note about the data: Although only 264 asexual people responded, the researchers analyzed the data to make sure it was significant. The data with two asterisks are statistically significant, and those with one are statistically significant in the context of the complete study.
Age of Participants (Interestingly, asexual respondents skewed older)
Incarceration
2018 Tracking Report: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Grantmaking by U.S. Foundations
Corrective Rape: An Extreme Manifestation of
Discrimination and the State’s Complicity in Sexual Violence (Hastings Women's Law Journal)
“Therefore, states need to take further measures to ensure that
prosecutors are bringing rape and hate crime criminal charges against perpetrators who commit corrective rape. One potential measure is to revise the ABA Standards and narrow prosecutorial discretion in declining to bring criminal charges. In following Sweden’s model, prosecutors would
have the duty to prosecute in certain cases.241 When there is sufficient evidence to prove that a crime has been committed and that the accused is
the offender, the prosecutor should be obligated to initiate the prosecution. When a lesbian, asexual woman, or transgender man is raped, there should
be a presumption that the prosecutor will investigate and bring charges against the rapist if the probable cause and evidentiary requirements are
met. It is the responsibility of each state to take the necessary steps to enable those who do not conform to gender and sexual orientation norms to have
power over their health, safety, and security. One such step is to provide an adequate remedy to individuals who have experienced corrective rape. Hate
crime statutes that are inclusive and enforced are one potential method of providing victims with the justice they deserve. State legislatures, however,
should not become complacent with enacting hate crime legislation in response to corrective rape, but should strive to confront sexual violence in all its forms. Lesbians, asexual women, transgender men, and all other non- conforming individuals should not need to wait until social consciousness catches up before they are entitled to legal protection. Any success in
transforming our society to be one without sexual violence will require broad changes in law, in attitude, in the norms we uphold, and in the legal
culture—the time for these changes is now.”
Asexual people in Boulder County fight against notion of what makes a person whole (https://www.timescall.com/2018/04/07/asexual-people-in-boulder-county-fight-against-notion-of-what-makes-a-person-whole/)
Gross said that the only official discrimination they have experienced is related to their living situation at the Rad-ish Collective co-op.Boulder law prohibits more than three or four unrelated people living together, depending on the area of the city, unless they apply for a co-op license. The licensing procedure is less cumbersome now than under an old ordinance, but still requires extensive paperwork.Gross said that while they and their fellow Rad-ish residents aren’t related, they are a found family to each other and laws like Boulder’s discriminate against people who choose not to live in the traditional nuclear family structure.“There are so many different forms of communal living, whether that’s aging in place or there might be a generational intentional community. Or you can have a co-op where folks are polyamorous and in a lot of different relationships with different people,” Gross said.“They’re unrelated, they’re not married but they’re still relationships. Like at the Rad-ish, we’re all essentially a family, but we’re not related so it was illegal. Devaluing those relationships in favor of some sort of transactional marriage was codified in terms of occupancy and still is unless you’re a legal co-op.”
Asexuality: What It is and Why It Matters (Journal of Sexual Research)
“There may also be unique facets to asexuality that bring special and intensified forms of discrimination. At
a structural level, there is evidence that many societies’ legal systems privilege sexual over asexual people (Emens, 2014; Gressga ̊rd, 2013). For example, those in conjugal partnerships (e.g., marriages) often have 675 additional rights and benefits over single individuals or those in nonsexual partnerships. Although not all asex-
ual people are single and, of course, not all single people
are asexual, there is evidence that asexual people are less likely to have had a long-term relationship than sexual 680 people (e.g., Bogaert, 2004); thus, this form of structural discrimination against nonconjugal people may have
a heightened relevance to asexual people.“
Divorcing Marriage from Sex: Radically Rethinking the Role of Sex in Marriage Law in the United States (Oñati Socio-Legal Series)
“Public policy that privileges conjugal relationships – whether they take the form of traditional marriage or other arrangements that follow the “marriage model” − falls short of meeting the needs of diverse individuals and relationships (Barker 2012). The growing recognition of asexuality (defined as the absence of feelings of sexual attraction) provides additional support for the view that requiring people to have sex in order to benefit from the advantages that flow to married couples is unjustified and discriminatory (Emens 2014).”
Asexuality and the mental health sector: a submission to the Royal Commission into Victoria’s Mental Health System
“Asexual people who are ‘out’ (or who are ‘outed’) are particularly at risk of being subjected to hate crimes, discrimination, harassment and bullying – as well as to the wider mental health effects of stigma and oppression. Constant bombardment with oppressive experiences, with little societal or social narrative that provides hope for change, opposes this negativity or supports them, has serious consequences for asexual people’s mental health. The 2016 survey found 75% of asexual respondents reporting that discrimination and prejudice about their orientation negatively impacted their mental or emotional health. The 2016 survey found that 49% of asexual respondents had seriously considered suicide, and 14% had attempt suicide. Like other people who identify with a sexual minority, it is our negative experiences in society, not our orientation, that drives our elevated risk of mental distress and suicide.
While anti-discrimination and equal opportunity legislation and initiatives often cite ‘sexual orientation’ or ‘sexuality’ as protected characteristics, in reality, these protections are rarely extended to or enforced for asexual people. As with the debate between freedom of religion and freedom from religion, my attempts to invoke anti- discrimination laws to stand up for asexual people have been met with the mean-spirited semantic rebuff that the laws protect people on the basis on their sexual orientation, not their lack of one.
People who are known to be (or suspected of being) asexual are at increased risk of sexual hate crimes, including rape and sexual assault. This is particularly true for asexual women. We are also at higher risk of crimes such as sexual harassment, blackmail, stalking and assault. The risk of these crimes, or the direct experience of them, can have serious impacts on our mental health, as well as our sense of safety, and capacity for full social participation.
Underpinning the increased risk are harmful sexual and gender power dynamics and inequities in society – whereby a person’s lack of sexual interest or desire is seen as a threat to sexual and gender dynamics in society, and/or the perpetrator’s personal social or sexual power or sense of sexual entitlement (e.g. their masculinity). Some perpetrators attempt to justify their crimes by claiming that they can ‘convert’ the woman through a forced sexual experience. Others believe they are entitled to sexual contact as the ‘inevitable’ next step after other social interaction with the woman. Others get a depraved thrill out of being the first to have sexual contact with her. Others still express pure misogynist rage at the woman’s sexual unavailability and non-participation in sexualised gender roles. There is less information available on sexual hate crimes against asexual men or asexual non-binary people, but these are also known to occur.
The lack of specific hate crime legislation in Victoria means that hate crimes against asexual people are not recognised for the aggravated crimes that they are. And the minimal provisions in the sentencing act for considering prejudice in sentencing are applied rarely, and when they are, they are applied almost mostly to instances involving race or religion.
High risk of hate crime, discrimination and harassment, as well as the common experiences of family rejection (often leading to homelessness), healthcare rejection and conversion therapy, mean that asexual people face very real threats to our mental and physical wellbeing, safety, and indeed our lives, if we are out, outed, or suspected as asexual. Therefore many, like me, feel compelled to keep our orientation secret, or to disclose it only very selectively. This has profound implications for our mental health. It stifles not only our ability to live with freedom and authenticity, but also to receive fully-informed and person-centred support from family, friends and support services.
As a result of the ongoing pathologisation of asexuality, sustained by mental health professions and the mental health sector, there is little social momentum or societal narrative opposing discrimination, stigma, harassment and bullying of asexual people. We remain ‘fair game’, left behind as social progress towards equality for other sexual minorities marches on. As significant and laudable successes on the road to equality for LGBTI people continue - such as gender-neutral marriage – there is increasing sentiment in the community that the fight for sexuality equality is close to being won. Yet, in the context of this growing complacency, asexual rights remain atSUB.0002.0028.0314_0006
least 30 years behind other sexually diverse people.”
PDF Library
All Of The Sources Used Are Uploaded Here
Upon acceptance of a paper by a journal, authors must sign a copyright agreement or the article will not be published. Authors have the option to pay for open access, but those that publish many articles often cannot afford to pay for each article. The authors themselves often get copyright notices if they share their papers on ResearchGate, and the publishers get the majority of the profits when they put articles behind a paywall.These articles have been uploaded under the Fair Use doctrine and is meant only for individual, peer to peer sharing between colleagues. If you are planning on citing these sources in an official, published article, I would recommend purchasing access to avoid any copyright issues.Paraphrased from this thread:
Password: Asexual Research Owl
Marginalization in the Social Sphere
How Allosexuals Perceive and Interact With Asexuals
Prior to 2000, there was no research regarding perceptions of asexuality, and most assumed that asexual people did not face discrimination. A growing canon of work has emerged in the past decade showing that asexuals are routinely discriminated against and marginalized. The Development of The Attitude Towards Asexual Scale has laid the groundwork for a number of studies even within the past three years, and as time goes on this field will likely develop.Contact @asexualresearch on Twitter or [email protected] for articles that should be added, questions, or concerns!
Development and validation of the Attitudes Towards Asexuals (ATA) scale (Journal of Psychology And Sexuality)
“ Discomfort renting and hiring3
Discomfort renting to and hiring (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012) heterosexuals (α = .95), homosexuals (α = .96), bisexuals (α = .96) and asexuals (α = .98) was assessed using four items (e.g., ‘Indicate how comfortable you would be renting an apartment to people from each of these groups?’), rated on 11-point scales, with separate 4-item measures for each group. Scores were reverse-coded, with higher scores indicating greater discomfort rent- ing and hiring.”“ Interest in future contact (Husnu & Crisp, 2010) with heterosexuals (α = .92),
homosexuals (α = .94), bisexuals (α = .94) and asexuals (α = .91) were captured
using four items (e.g., ‘If given the chance, how interested are you in being friends
with someone from each of the following groups?’) rated on 8-point scales, with
separate 4-item measures for each group. Higher scores indicate greater future contact intentions.”
LGB within the T:
Sexual Orientation in the National Transgender Discrimination Survey and Implications for Public Policy
(This study examines sexual orientation and discrimination experienced by transgender people, an important step in analyzing the intersectionality of gender identity and sexual orientation.An important note about the data: Although only 264 asexual people responded, the researchers analyzed the data to make sure it was significant. The data with two asterisks are statistically significant, and those with one are statistically significant in the context of the complete study.)
Age of Participants (Interestingly, asexual respondents skewed older)
Familial Rejection
Public Accommodations And Incarceration
Housing
Racial and Ethnic Differences in Experiences of Discrimination in Accessing Social Services Among Transgender/Gender-Nonconforming People (Journal of Ethnic & Cultural Diversity in Social Work)
“The only difference on sexual orientation was that individuals who identified as asexual were more than twice as likely (OR = 2.37, 95% CI = [1.03, 5.46]) to have experienced discrimination at domestic violence shelters than heterosexual individuals.”
National LGBT Survey 2017 UK
The link above leads to the interactive data set. In the PDF library I have also included the analysis provided by researchers that the quotes arise from.
“Amongst cisgender respondents, gay and lesbian respondents were the most satisfied, compared to those with other sexual orientations, with an average rating of 6.88. Asexual and pansexual respondents were the least satisfied, with an average of 5.88 and 5.92 respectively (Figure 4.1).”“ Trans respondents had a lower life satisfaction, scoring it on average 5.40, than cisgender respondents, who scored it on average 6.67. Amongst trans respondents, trans men in particular were the least satisfied, scoring their life satisfaction on average 5.07 (Figure 4.2). Heterosexual trans respondents rated their life satisfaction the highest, scoring it on average 5.91, whilst asexual trans respondents rated it the lowest, scoring it on average 5.06 (Annex 4, Q152).”“Amongst cisgender respondents, gay and lesbian respondents were the most likely to score their comfort being LGBT in the UK as 4 or 5 out of 5 (63%), whilst asexual respondents were the least likely (49%) (Figure 4.4). Cisgender men were more likely to score their comfort as 4 or 5 out of 5 (63%) than cisgender women (54%) (Annex 4, Q11).”“ By sexual orientation, only 2% of gay and lesbian respondents had been open with none of their friends, whilst 12% of asexual respondents had been open with none of their friends (Figure 5.2). [greatest and least of the results]”“Openness with neighbours was generally low across sexual orientations, ranging from 39% of gay and lesbian respondents to 95% of asexual respondents having been open with none of their neighbours (Figure 5.6).”“ Broken down by sexual orientation, asexual respondents (89%), queer respondents (86%), and bisexual respondents (80%) were the most likely to avoid being open, compared to, for example, gay and lesbian respondents (66%) (Figure 5.11).““Fifty-eight per cent of asexual respondents said that they avoided being open about their sexual orientation at home, whereas only 14% of gay and lesbian respondents reported doing so. Some of this difference may reflect patterns of relationships and who lives with whom.”
On a scale of 1 to 5, how comfortable do you feel being an LGBT person in the UK? If you would prefer not to answer, please leave blank.
Overall, on a scale of 1 to 10, how satisfied are you with your life nowadays?
Do you ever avoid being open about your sexual orientation for fear of a negative reaction from others?
Where do you avoid being open about your sexual orientation for fear of a negative reaction from others?
In the past 12 months, did you experience any of the following from someone you lived with for any reason?
In the past 12 months, how many family members that you lived with, if any, were you open with about being LGBT?
In the past 12 months, how many people you lived with, if any, were you open with about being LGBT?
Think about the most serious incident in the past 12 months. Which of the following happened to you?
Who was the perpetrator(s) of this most serious incident?
Did you report this most serious incident?
Why did you not report this most serious incident to the police?
In the past 12 months, did you experience any of the following from someone you were not living with because you are LGBT or they thought you were LGBT? For example, from a friend, neighbour, family member you don't live, or a stranger. Please only include incidents that you haven't already told us about in this survey.
In the past 12 months, how many people in the following groups, if any, were you open with about being LGBT - Family members you were not living with?
In the past 12 months, how many people in the following groups, if any, were you open with about being LGBT - Friends you were not living with?
In the past 12 months, how many people in the following groups, if any, were you open with about being LGBT - Neighbours?
Think about the most serious incident in the past 12 months. Which of the following happened to you?
Who was the perpetrator(s) of this most serious incident?
Did you or anyone else report this most serious incident?
Why did you not report this most serious incident to the police?
Viewer Perceptions of and Attitudes Towards Asexuality in Response to Entertainment Media Representation (University of Twente)
"A Tukey post hoc test showed that the difference was between religious and non-religious participants on both the first (p = .001) and second (p < .001) measurement. On the second measurement, there was also a statistically significant difference between religious and ‘other’ participants (p = .045). The attitudes held by non- religious participants were therefore significantly more positive towards asexual individuals than the other groups in the respective measures.On the second question, ‘What is your opinion of the main character?’, 28.8% of respondents in the asexual condition, and 46.4% of participants in the unrelated condition, had a positive tone. There was a significant difference in tone between the conditions on the second open question [F(1,106) = 6.65, p = .011], with a mean score of 36.73 (SD = 36.78) with an average of 3.49% of the text reflecting positive emotions and 5.69% negative emotions in the asexual condition and 55.45 (SD = 38.52) with an average of 7.06% positive and 2.48% negative emotions in the unrelated condition. The difference between the asexual and unrelated conditions in positive emotions expressed was significant [F(1,106) = 4.33, p = .040], as was the difference between negative emotions [F(1,106 = 4.01, p = .048]. This shows that on the second open question, participants in the asexual condition had a less positive valence than the unrelated condition, and they also expressed overall less emotions. Of the emotions expressed, the asexual condition texts contained more negative than positive emotions, which was reversed in the unrelated condition.Although the greatest difference was expected to those that identified as “Conservative”, the fewer negative emotions expressed by “Liberals” compared to other groups was expected based on prior research. Aside from this, it was not expected that those who are “Non-political” have comparatively very low percentages of negative emotions in their texts, as previous studies have concluded that those who are more politically interested generally hold more positive attitudes to members of the LGBT community (Lee & Hicks, 2011; Norton & Herek, 2012; Whitley, 2001; Woodford et al., 2012). "
Judging an absence: Factors influencing attitudes towards asexuality (Trinity Western University Department of Psychology)
“Participants
The sample consisted of 1297 participants (48.6% women, 43.2% men, 6.4% nonbinary / other, 0.6% questioning) recruit- ed via sample-collecting and LGBTQ+ pages on social media sites. Gender was assessed through self-identification in an open-answer format. Some analyses were conducted with few- er cases due to missing data. The data were collected in Winter 2018 following IRB approval. Participants were informed that they were taking part in a study about perceptions of sexual minorities. All participants were required to be the age of ma- jority in their place of residence. Exclusion criteria included age below the age of majority, self-reported dishonesty, or a clear, consistent pattern of nonsensical responses. No compensa- tion was provided for participation in the study. Participants self-identified as non-LGBTQ+ (44.5%; n = 576), nonasexual LGBTQ+ (43.9%; n = 569), or asexual (11.0%; n = 143). Mean age was 25.9 (SD = 8.97; age range = 18–73). The sample was pri- marily North American (Canada, the United States, and Mexico; 72.0%; n = 935), with a majority speaking English as a first lan- guage (79.2%; n = 1028). 84.1% (n = 1091) of the sample report- ed at least some college or university or college education.
Measures
Participants completed baseline measures assessing demograph- ics, familiarity and attitudes towards asexual individuals, trait characteristics (openness, social dominance, right wing author- itarianism), behavioral intentions, and attitudes towards single people. This study uses a subset of measures taken from a larger study on attitudes and behaviors towards sexual minority groups.
Singlism
30 items were used to measure negative stereotyping of sin- gle persons (e.g., “It’s only natural for people to get married;” Pignotti & Abell, 2009). Higher scores indicate a more negative view of single persons (Cronbach’s α = 0.94 in the present sam- ple). This scale was included for the purpose of differentiating between antiasexual bias and bias against celibate or otherwise nonasexual single individuals.
Openness
Openness was measured using a 10-item subscale of the Big-Five Personality Inventory (e.g., “I see myself as someone who has an active imagination;” John, Donahue, & Kentle, 1991). Higher average scores indicated a more open personality; reliability in the present sample was Cronbach’s α = 0.72.
Social dominance orientation
The 16-item Social Dominance Orientation Scale was used to measure social dominance (Pratto, Sidanius, Stallworth, & Malle, 1994). A sample item is, “To get ahead in life, it is sometimes nec- essary to step on other groups.” Higher average scores represent stronger social dominance orientation. Reliability in the present sample was Cronbach’s α = 0.93.
Right wing authoritarianism
Zakrisson’s (2005) 15-item short form of the Right-Wing Authoritarianism scale was used to assess degree of authori- tarianism. A sample item is, “It would be best if newspapers were censored so that people would not be able to get hold of destructive and disgusting material.” Higher total scores repre- sent a stronger inclination towards right wing authoritarianism. Reliablity in the present sample was Cronbach’s α = 0.86.
Familiarity
Participants were asked to indicate whether they know anyone who is asexual. Those who indicated yes were then asked to rate from 1–7 the closeness of the relationships. We revised Hoffarth et al.’s (2016) definition of asexual to read: “people who have [little to] no sexual attraction to either sex (and never have).” The definition was revised to be in accordance with a more nu- anced understanding of asexuality that recognizes that some identities within asexuality may involve varying degrees of sex- ual attraction under particular conditions (Carrigan, 2011; Van Houdenhove et al., 2015a). Restricting asexuality to those who never experience sexual attraction under any condition could be a form of gatekeeping or an extension of asexual-exclusionist discourse (Donaldson, 2018; Hoins, 2017; Mosbergen, 2017).
Future contact and discrimination intentions
Following the lead of Hoffarth et al. (2016), interest in future contact (Husnu & Crisp, 2010) was modified in the present study to ask about the likelihood that an individual would have a con- versation, a friendship, or a dating relationship with an asexual person. Higher scores reflect a greater likelihood of future con- tact intentions with asexuals.
Discrimination intentions were assessed using a further 2 questions that asked about comfort with renting to and hiring asexuals. A sample item is, “How comfortable would you be with renting an apartment to someone who is asexual?”). Higher scores reflect a lower likelihood of discrimination intentions.
Attitudes towards asexual individuals
16 items were used to measure attitudes towards asexual individ- uals (Hoffarth et al., 2016; sample item: “People who identify as asexual probably just want to feel special or different.”). Higher average scores indicate a higher bias towards asexual individuals; reliability in the present sample was Cronbach’s α = 0.91.
RESULTS
Means and correlations for the key study variables are presented in Table 1. Nearly all respondents (91.52%; n = 1187) indicated at least moderate familiarity with the concept of asexuality. 46.03% (n = 597) know one or more asexual individuals. All study variables were associated with each other, which is unsurprising given the size of the study sample and the reliance on the litera- ture to select the study variables. However, most associations are either small or moderate, which minimizes concerns about col- linearity. Men were somewhat more than were persons of other genders to report negative attitudes (r = −0.31, p < .01). A small inverse association was found between openness and negative attitudes towards asexual individuals (r = −0.13, p < .01). Right wing authoritarianism was moderately associated with antiasex- ual bias, including negative attitudes (r = 0.46, p < .01), as was so- cial dominance orientation (r = 0.49, p < .01), as well as singlism (r = 0.53, p < .01).
We used multiple regression to test predictors of attitudes towards asexual individuals using a backward elimination pro- cedure (Table 2). A total of 9 independent variables were tested for inclusion in the model: age, gender, orientation, singlism, openness, social dominance orientation, right wing authoritar- ianism, knowing an asexual individual, and having a close rela- tionship with an asexual individual. Variables were kept in the model if p < 0.05. Results indicated that orientation (β = −0.15, p < .01), social dominance orientation (β = 0.33, p < .01), right wing authoritarianism (β = 0.02, p < .01), having a close rela- tionship with an asexual person (β = −0.03, p < .01), and sin- glism (β = 0.01, p < .01) explained 46.7% of the variance in atti- tudes towards asexual individuals (R2 = .47, F(5, 926) = 163.98, p < .01).
We also compared participants on attitudes towards asexual individuals based on three broad groups of self-reported orien- tation: non-LGBTQ+, nonasexual LGBTQ+, and asexual. While some participants indicated multiple overlapping identities, no participant was assigned to more than one group for the purpose of these analyses. Any indication of LGBTQ+ identity was sort- ed as LGBTQ+, unless the participant also reported an asexual identity (for example, participants who described themselves as asexual, demisexual, or aromantic). Heterosexual participants who did not indicate identification with either asexual or other LGBTQ+ identities were allocated to the non-LGBTQ+ group.
A one-way between subjects ANOVA comparing the effect of orientation (non-LGBTQ+, nonasexual LGBTQ+, and asexual) on attitudes found a statistically significant difference between orientations [F(2, 1063) = 48.87, p < .01]. Games-Howell post hoc comparisons showed that the mean scores for non-LGBTQ+ individuals (M = 2.13, SD = 1.31) were higher compared to non- asexual LGBTQ+ participants (M = 1.58, SD = 0.89) and asexual individuals (M = 1.36, SD = 0.35; M = 1.33). The differences be- tween the mean scores of nonasexual LGBTQ+ individuals and asexual individuals were not significant.”
Societal Challenge and Depression, Self-Esteem, and Self-Concept Clarity in Asexuals (University of Colorado Boulder)
“ About half of the asexuals (54%) chose three or below on the scale when asked how open they were with their families. Most stated that they hid their identity because their family was homophobic and would likely not react well to a nonstandard sexual orientation, or that past attempts to be open had received negative responses. Those who were open with their family often felt that they were misunderstood regardless of how open they were, and that their parents were displeased. One subject noted that when she ‘came out’ to her mother, she convinced her to keep it hidden from the rest of the family.
The majority (69.4%) of the asexuals who participated in the survey stated that they felt that their identity as an asexual had been challenged in the past. Those who felt they had had their identity challenged were most likely to have had it challenged by their friends, with family coming in second. Participants were least likely to have their identity challenged by an authority figure or their significant other, though approximately 14% of participants did have difficulty with their significant other’s views of their identity. “
UK National LGBT Survey 2020
"On average, respondents were less satisfied with their life nowadays than the general population, scoring it 6.5 out of 10, compared with 7.7 for the general UK population.9 Among cisgender respondents, gay/lesbian people had the highest scores (6.9) and pansexual or asexual people had the lowest scores (both 5.9). Trans people had low scores: trans men scored 5.1, trans women scored 5.5 and non-binary people scored 5.5.Average life satisfaction (out of 10)
Change between chart and table
UK Population 7.7
Gay/Lesbian 6.9
Bisexual 6.3
Pansexual 5.9
Asexual 5.9
Trans woman 5.5
Non-binary 5.5
Trans man 5.1UK Population
7.7
Gay/Lesbian
6.9
Bisexual
6.3
Pansexual
5.9
Asexual
5.9
Trans woman
5.5
Non-binary
5.5
Trans man
5.1Over half of the respondents (56%) felt comfortable being LGBT in the UK, rating their comfort as a 4 or 5 out of 5. Amongst cisgender respondents, gay and lesbian people were the most comfortable (63% comfortable) and asexual people were the least (49% comfortable). As with life satisfaction, trans people generally felt less comfortable. 37% of trans women, 34% of trans men and 38% of non-binary people felt comfortable being LGBT in the UK. Only 5% of all trans respondents aged under 25 said they felt very comfortable (scoring 5 out of 5), rising to 15% of those aged 55-64 and 31% of those aged 65+.
Safety
The existing evidence suggests that LGBT people are at greater risk than the general population of being victims of crime; Stonewall, for example, recently found in their YouGov survey that more than 25% of trans respondents who were in a relationship in the last year had been subject to domestic abuse.10 NIESR found that underreporting of hate crime is a particularly common issue. They also found that LGBT people can be unwilling to use relevant services for fear of homophobic, transphobic or biphobic responses from staff and service users or because they do not think the response will meet their needs. Data from the Crime Survey for England and Wales (CSEW) being published alongside this report for the first time reveal that gay, lesbian and bisexual people are more likely than heterosexual people to be victims of all CSEW crime.Openness about being LGBT
Over two thirds (68%) of all respondents with a minority sexual orientation said they had avoided holding hands in public with a same-sex partner for fear of a negative reaction from others. Similarly, 70% said they had avoided being open about their sexual orientation for fear of a negative reaction; this was higher for cisgender respondents who were asexual (89%), queer (86%), and bisexual (80%). The most common places where cisgender respondents had avoided being open about their sexual orientation were on public transport (65%) and in the workplace (56%). Some respondents described feeling safer moving to large cities with a significant LGBT population, like London, Brighton and Manchester."
Asexual and Non‐Asexual Respondents from a U.S. Population‐Based Study of Sexual Minorities (Archives of Sexual Behavior)
“Our hypothesis that asexuals would experience more stigma than non-asexuals was generally confirmed. Asexuals reported feeling more stigma than non-asexual men and women and more everyday discrimination than did non-asexual men. These results suggest that asexual identity is more stigmatized in society than LGB sexual minority identities. This supports prior research of MacInnis and Hodson (2012) who found that Canadian university students and online participants were more biased toward asexuals than toward LGB people. It also sup- ports the qualitative research of Gupta (2017) who interviewed 30 participants recruited from AVEN and other websites, and found that over half indicated that they had been stigmatized
or marginalized for being asexual. In Gupta’s study every par- ticipant mentioned at least one negative incident, such as get- ting medical or psychological explanations when they came out to family or friends, and feeling alienated from social events, classroom discussions about sex, conversations with friends, or media programs or advertising.“
Polish Asexualities: Catholic Religiosity and Asexual Online Activisms in Poland
“The report suggests that, much like other sexual minorities, asexuals are at a serious disadvantage in terms of mental health, social isolation, and social acceptance in Polish society (Świder and Winiewski 2017). For example, 22.9% of asexual people in the study indicated unfair treat- ment by the medical establishment, 21.9% mistreatment in their work- place, and 54.8% in their religious communities (Świder and Winiewski 2017, p. 48). Further, less than half of the asexual people in the study suggested that they would evaluate their life on positive terms, 68.2% have experienced social isolation, and 20.5% have frequent or very fre- quent suicidal thoughts (Świder and Winiewski 2017, pp. 54, 55, 57).“
Asexual Identity in a New Zealand National Sample: Demographics, Well-Being, and Health
(A study on people's perceptions of asexuals)
“In line with prior work on social avoidance, asexual men also had higher coldness, social avoidance, and non-assertive personality scores. Asexual women had higher scores on coldness, vindictiveness, social avoidance, non- assertiveness, and exploitable personality inventory indices. It was speculated that these differences might be partially due to the discrimination faced by asexual people, and living in a soci- ety that places a considerable emphasis on sex (see also Chasin, 2015; Scherrer, 2008).”
Societal Challenge and Depression, Self-Esteem and Self-Concept Clarity in Asexuals (University of Colorado Boulder)
"Asexuals were most open about their asexuality with their significant other and tended to keep it mostly hidden around their family, strangers, and authority figures. In the case of coworkers, many asexuals stated that it was not their business, though there were occasions where they felt pressured to state their sexuality. Most who hid their asexuality from authority figures did so from doctors and therapists for fear of their lack of sexual attraction being misconstrued as a symptom of an illness or mental disorder. Those who kept their asexuality hidden from the LGBT community stated that they did so because they had had unpleasant experiences with the community in regards to their asexuality in the past, while some stated that they were open with the LGBT community online but kept their asexuality hidden offline. Asexuals were asked how open they were about their sexuality on a scale of one to seven, with one being the most hidden and seven being the most open. About half of the asexuals (54%) chose three or below on the scale when asked how open they were with their families. Most stated that they hid their identity because their family was homophobic and would likely not react well to a nonstandard sexual orientation, or that past attempts to be open had received negative responses. Those who were open with their family often felt that they were misunderstood regardless of how open they were, and that their parents were displeased. One subject noted that when she ‘came out’ to her mother, she convinced her to keep it hidden from the rest of the family.
The majority (69.4%) of the asexuals who participated in the survey stated that they felt that their identity as an asexual had been challenged in the past. Those who felt they had had their identity challenged were most likely to have had it challenged by their friends, with family coming in second. Participants were least likely to have their identity challenged by an authority figure or their significant other, though approximately 14% of participants did have difficulty with their significant other’s views of their identity. The vast majority of challenges to asexuality that participants reported were phrases such as “you are a late bloomer” or “you have not met the right person.”The majority of the people who identified as asexual (69.4%) reported that they had their identity challenged in the past. It seems that the majority of asexuals, nearly 70%, have had their identity challenged or denied at some point and, judging by their comments, this has happened multiple times to many of them. The participants were the ones to decide whether they had been challenged or not, so it is possible that some people who may have had their identity challenged or denied by one definition did not by another, or vice versa. It is also possible that there are a number of people who have not had their identity denied because they keep their asexuality hidden from others for fear of rejection. Some who reported having their identity challenged may have not had it challenged directly; they may have seen something denying or discrediting asexuality on television or in a book. It may be worthwhile to see how this percentage compares to other sexualities and groups in the future. Asexuality as an orientation is a relatively new concept, and it is possible that things will change over time. LGB groups were hidden groups in the past, and LGB characters in the media started out as novel or stereotyped, but now LGB characters are relatively common, and tend to avoid stereotypical portrayals. Over the next decade or so we can probably expect to see asexuals and other non-standard sexual orientations, romantic orientations, and gender identities become more visible in the media, and in public discussions."
Asexuality: An Emergent Sexual Orientation (University of Saskatchewan)
"In response to the HHDRS items, participants reported experiencing a variety of
discriminatory behaviours, and hearing verbal insults on account of one’s asexual identity (15%), derogatory names being used to describe asexuals (13%), and anti-asexual remarks from family members (10%) emerged as the most frequently occurring events (see Table 1). These experiences, along with being treated unfairly by parents due to one’s asexual identity were pereceived as being stressful to varying degrees by 33%, 21%, 21%, and 23% of the sample, respectively. When examining the mean stress levels and ranges of stress evaluations for each experienced discriminatory episode (see Table 1), it is apparent that participants did not perceive the events to be overly stressful (possible range for these evaluations was 1-10, and the highest mean evaluation for any event obtained was 1.79, which participants perceived when verbally insulted due to their asexual identity). Moreover, participants’ total mean scale score (M = 23.14, SD = 9.90) on the HHDRS fell well below the scale midpoint of 84 and, thus, the sample experienced the types of discriminatory events included in the HHDRS relatively rarely.
Of interest, too, in the present study was obtaining an indication of the extent to which participants had disclosed their asexual identities to individuals of varying interpersonal closeness, as outlined on the OI. Percentages of participants who had disclosed their asexual orientation to each person/group of people were calculated, excluding those who responded with “not applicable” to any given item. Results indicate that most participants (85%) had disclosed their asexual orientation to at least one person, and a further 10% reported that they intend to disclose their asexual orientation in future. Participants’ responses were then divided into those who had disclosed their asexual identities and their identities were “definitely known” (i.e., responses on the OI of 5, 6, or 7 were given indicating that there was no uncertainty about participants’ disclosure) versus those who perceived to have disclosed their identity but the recipient of the information “probably knows” (i.e., responses on the OI of 1, 2, 3, or 4 were given indicating that a lack of certainty exists about the extent to which the person/group of people knows about a person’s identity). As seen in Table 2, of those participants who were certain that the individual/group in question definitely knows of their asexual identity, each had disclosed to his/her romantic partner, and over half of the applicable sample had disclosed totheir mental health care providers, old heterosexual, old non-heterosexual, and new non- heterosexual friends. Less than half of the applicable sample, however, had disclosed their identities to the remaining contacts listed on the OI.
Finally, the correlations between the HHDRS and the total OI, and the HHDRS and the OI subscales were calculated to determine the degree of association between the two measures. Scores on the HHDRS were significantly correlated with total OI scores, r(34) = .42, p = .01, scores on the religion subscale, r(35) = -.44, p = .01, and scores on the world subscale, r(34) = .50, p = .001. Scores on the HHDRS and the family OI subscale did not correlate significantly, r(35) = .30, p = .08. Overall, scores on the HHDRS and OI appear to be moderately associated.
DISCUSSION
To the authors’ knowledge, the present study is the first empirical investigation into
asexual individuals’ experiences of discrimination. In addition to measuring the types and sources of discrimination, a basic measure of the stress engendered by each experience from the participants’ perspectives was included. Further, the degree to which participants had disclosed their asexual orientation to various others also was investigated.
Responses to the OI indicate that a large majority of the sample had disclosed their asexual orientation to at least one person, and that almost the entire remainder of the sample was planning to do so in the future. This finding suggests that participants do not feel it necessary to completely hide their identity as asexual; however, the persons to whom they elect to disclose their identity was revealing. Specifically, only romantic partners, friends, and mental health care providers were those individuals to which over half of the sample had disclosed their identity as asexuals. Thus, although many participants had disclosed their asexual identity to at least one person, this aspect of their identity remains hidden from most of their proximal (e.g., family members) and distal (e.g., work peers and extended family) contacts. It is important to point out that the OI does not capture whether the disclosure of a participants’ asexual identity is deemed acceptable by others of varying interpersonal closeness. For example, although the OI measures whether one’s asexual orientation is openly discussed with one’s family members (e.g., brother/sisters), it does not measure whether the discourse is positive or negative in tone. Previous research has suggested that this discourse may, indeed, be highly negative and dismissive of asexuality and asexual relationships (Chasin, 2009; Scherrer, 2008, 2010). The inclusion of questions addressing the nature of the interactions with proximal and distal others would be useful.
With respect to the discrimination experienced by our sample, episodes of verbal harassment seem to be the most commonly cited. Specifically, insults, derogatory names, and anti-asexual remarks from family members due to one’s asexual identity were among the most frequent and stressful types of discrimination experienced. Based on these results, it seems that most participants had not experienced the types of blatant discrimination included in the HHDRS (e.g., physical violence or economic sanctions); however, the experiences reported suggest many perceive themselves to be living in environments in which their sexual identities are not accepted. The lack of perceived acceptance may fall under the rubric of subtle discriminatory behaviour (i.e., discrimination which is typified by acts that are derogative and hurtful, yet may or may not be ambiguous as to their prejudiced roots and intention to harm; Jewell, McCutcheon, Harriman, & Morrison, in press). For example, subtle discrimination may manifest itself in the form of gossip, use of anti-target language, and social distancing. Because the nature of subtle discrimination is not as well understood as its blatant counterpart (Jewell & Morrison, in press; Jewell et al., in press), the HHDRS is likely not as sensitive to the potential spectrum of subtle discriminatory behaviour experienced by asexual individuals. Some of the most frequently experienced events on the HHDRS, however, suggest that subtle discrimination may be an issue for the asexual community. For example, hearing anti-asexual remarks and being called derogatory names may be classified as subtle discrimination if the intent of the perpetrator was not to harm or ambiguous.
The family of origin seems to be a particular source of discrimination for asexual persons. Family members were conspicuously absent from the list of people to whom over half of the sample had disclosed their asexual identities. Indeed, participants reported disclosing their asexual identity less frequently to extended family members than to strangers. Again, the results of the OI do not indicate whether family members are accepting of participants’ asexual identities or not. However, the finding that family members were involved in two of the most frequent and stressful events on the HHDRS (i.e., unfair treatment by parents and anti-asexual remarks from family members) suggests that the familial environment can be negative for many asexual individuals.
The positive correlations between the HHDRS and the OI subscales suggest that participants who had disclosed their asexual orientation to others were also more likely to report experiencing the type of discrimination measured by the HHDRS. This result was anticipated because most of the HHDRS items refer specifically to discriminatory events that are precipitated by one’s asexual orientation. For example, to be rejected by a friend due to one’s asexual orientation, that friend would have to be aware that one is, in fact, asexual. One caveat to this conclusion was the negative correlation between the religion subscale and the HHDRS. Thus, participants who had disclosed their asexual orientation to members of their religious community reported fewer incidents of discrimination on the HHDRS. It may be that asexual individuals who are part of a religious community are more likely to be accepted by their acquaintances, or it may be that participants were more likely to disclose their asexual orientation to their religious community when they believed that it would accept their orientation. The present data, however, do not provide definitive conclusions regarding this relationship; thus, additional research designed to illuminate the nature of this association should be conducted."
“How do you Say ‘I’m Asexual’? It is even Difficult to Say”: The Construction of Asexual Masculinities in the Context of Sexual Imperative (From the Department of Philosophy, Sociology, Education & Applied Psychology, Università degli Studi di Padova, Padova, Italy)
“Overall, the results of our study are in line with earlier investigations about asexualities (DeLuzio Chasin, 2011; Gupta, 2015; Przybylo, 2011, 2012) and the link between nonsexuality and masculinity (Lopez Ruiz, 2015; Przybylo, 2014). The sexualization of interpersonal relationships appears to be a core dynamic in the cultural production of masculinity, as signaled by the precarious position occupied by asexual men in the domain of manhood. Specifically, the analysis of the interviews suggests that the delegitimation of asexual masculinities is performed in two ways: erasure and stigmatization.
Erasure relates to the scarce recognition of the disengagement from sexuality as a manifestation of a non- sexual identity. As previously emphasized by other authors (Gupta, 2017), our work points out that one of the major obstacles to the public visibility of asexuality is the difficult of finding definite and univocal behaviours to materialize one’s own asexual identification in the social field. Asexuality is largely, but not exclusively, narrated in terms of “lack” (see also DeLuzio Chasin, 2013; Przybylo, 2011) – of sexual desire, of sexual behaviours, of sexual attraction, of sexual pleasure – and the intelligibility of these manifestations of non-sexuality as an expression of asexuality is hindered by their reiterated misinterpretation as signs – or symptoms – of other sexual conditions (e.g. erectile dysfunction, shyness, latent homosexuality). In other words, asexuality is denied an independent ontological status in the field of masculinity as it is treated as a mere contingent epiphenomenon of other subordinated sexual masculinities.
The stigmatization refers instead to those situations in which asexuality, despite being regarded as an identification, is subjected in itself to emasculation, discrimination and other offensive behaviours. It is worthy of attention that the interviewees reported that their asexuality not only has been treated as more unacceptable than homosexuality, but also it has been denigrated even by men who identify in non- normative sexual orientations. This result seems to implicate that asexualities are placed in a perhaps moreprecarious and subordinated position in the field of manhood as compared to other non-normative sexual identities. This is in agreement with MacInnis and Hodson’s (2012) results about the higher rates of dehumanization towards asexual people and asexual men in particular.
Both in erasure and in stigmatization asexuality is sanctioned and delegitimated. Nonetheless, we believe that the process of erasure and misrecognition constitutes a specific form of violence (see Fine, Torre, Frost & Cabana, 2018) that goes beyond what has been identified as subordination in the scholarship about hegemonic masculinity. Indeed, in this case the link between masculinity and sexual desire is so intense that asexuality cannot occupy any position in manhood, not even a subordinate one: the existence of asexual masculinities is ignored or actively rejected. As a consequence, the behaviours and desires of asexual-identified men can enter in the field of intelligibility of masculinity only after being subjected to colonization by the sexual imperative, as they are redefined as yet another defective expression of the ubiquitous sexuality.
The relationship between asexual identities and the subordination of non-sexualities in the field of masculinity is far from linear. Even though asexual men are, as we discussed earlier, extensively targeted by emasculating stereotypes, we are persuaded that the asexual identification opens up a certain space for renegotiating the location of one’s own non-sexuality within or outside the available cultural definitions of masculinity. As maintained by Gupta (2017; see also Scherrer, 2008), the very existence of a term to materialize one’s own disengagement from sexuality as an identity provides a symbolic tool to create – in self-narratives, in social interactions and in public speech – a discursive space outside sexuality. Indeed, it being understood that asexuality is still far from being socially accepted, the shift from the almost complete inexpressibility of non-sexual subjectivities to the possibility to articulate the existence of asexuality envisages at least tensions and fractures in the sexual imperative and in the male sexual drive discourse. This process echoes other researchers’ conclusions about the disruption of heteronormativity produced by the emergence and visibility of sexual and gender non-normative identities (Bruce, 2013; Gamson, 1995; Malici, 2014, Primo, Zamperini, Testoni, 2019; Skeggs, 1999), and it is particularly cogent given the difficulties in making manifest one’s own non-sexuality. Claiming an asexual identity opens up a discursiveniche in the language of subjectivity from which it is possible to reject the dominant hypersexual connotation of masculinity. Nonetheless, the relationship between the stabilization of asexual identities and the social recognition of non-sexuality in general is controversial. Indeed, the constitution of a symbolic domain of asexuality is achieved also through the demarcation of a distinction between asexuality and other non-sexualities, as already pointed out by Flore (2013). Notably, in the case of masculinity the asexual identification can also enact a partial displacement of the emasculating stigma towards other non-sexual conditions, especially those who are commonly labelled as “sexual dysfunctions”.
To conclude, the findings of this study appear to provide further support to the growing belief that normative conceptions about the appropriate level of engagement with sexuality are at the core of the cultural organization of meaning associated with masculinity. In particular, we concur with previous works in this area in suggesting that asexual men inhabit an extremely precarious position in gender dynamics. The social rejection of non-sexual masculinities is so intense and widespread that they are not only subjected to subordination, but also to more radical forms of erasure and symbolic colonization. In addition, we believe that our inquiry provides important insights about the complex and multifaceted roles that the asexual identification plays in the constitution of non-sexual male subjectivities. As we emphasized, this relates not only to the renegotiation of the hegemonic position of heterosexual masculinities, but rather to a broader web of symbolic and material relationships that involves also non- normative sexualities and other non-sexual conditions. For this very reason, we suggest that a compelling topic for future research in the CSMM scholarships is the investigation of the heterogeneous interrelations among different subordinate locations in the field of manhood.”
Asexual People’s Experience with Microaggressions (City University of New York)
(This study is a 45-page document detailing the types, sources, and effects of microaggressions. For space restrictions, I have only included the conclusion.To read the complete study, check out the library.)“This study was done to discover if asexual people experience microaggressions, and if so, how the microaggressions manifested, who they came from, and what mental health effects they may have. Information from this study was also collected to inform further research, as well as increase competency for mental health care providers that have asexual clients. This study supports the proposition that asexual people do experience subtle discrimination known as microaggressions. The themes found were similar to the themes found in other research on LGBTQ identities (Nadal, 2011). The microaggressions came from the expected sources similar to other microaggression studies, such as family, friends, and the media. They did report some more overt forms of discrimination in the form of attempted sexual assault and nonconsensual touching that appeared to intersect with their gender identity; the participants all identified as women and women report a 1 in 5 rate of rape in the United States (NSVRC, 2015).
Discrimination has long been associated with negative mental health outcomes and distress, and microaggressions are starting to be associated with negative mental health outcomes as well (Nadal, 2011). It is important to know that asexual people are facing this form of discrimination and how it affects them so it can be combated and access to support and needed mental health care can be provided. Microaggressions also can come from healthcare providers and even mental health providers, as indicated in this study and others (Shelton & Delgado-Romero, 2011). Providers should be able to recognize the common microaggressions against asexual people so that they can avoid perpetuating microaggressions in the future and they can provide more competent and compassionate care. Microaggressions and discrimination have been previously shown to have negative effects on the mental health of LGB individuals, and the asexual participants in this study reported that microaggressions caused them increased anxiety, relationship stress, discomfort, and depression. Considering LGB people also report higher levels of mood disorders and personality disorders compared to heterosexual people, it is important to know what may be contributing to this, as they may be a population at a greater risk of negative mental health outcomes and in need of greater care (Yule, Brotto, & Gorzalka, 2013). They also may be seeking therapy more frequently because of their mental health and it is important to be culturally competent and aware of what asexual people face as a population. If health providers become aware of the experiences of asexual people, these individuals would be spared the need to explain their sexual orientation and freed from experiencing microaggressions in a health care setting where they need treatment.”
Intergroup bias toward “Group X”: Evidence of prejudice, dehumanization, avoidance, and discrimination against asexuals (Journal of Group Processes & Intergroup Relations)
Summary (written in Psychology Today article): In a recent investigation (MacInnis & Hodson, in press) we uncovered strikingly strong bias against asexuals in both university and community samples. Relative to heterosexuals, and even relative to homosexuals and bisexuals, heterosexuals: (a) expressed more negative attitudes toward asexuals (i.e., prejudice); (b) desired less contact with asexuals; and (c) were less willing to rent an apartment to (or hire) an asexual applicant (i.e., discrimination). Moreover, of all the sexual minority groups studied, asexuals were the most dehumanized (i.e., represented as “less human”). Intriguingly, heterosexuals dehumanized asexuals in two ways. Given their lack of sexual interest, widely considered a universal interest, it might not surprise you to learn that asexuals were characterized as “machine-like” (i.e., mechanistically dehumanized). But, oddly enough, asexuals were also seen as “animal-like” (i.e., animalistically dehumanized). Yes, asexuals were seen as relatively cold and emotionless and unrestrained, impulsive, and less sophisticated.-
Complete Findings: As predicted, attitudes toward heterosexuals (ingroup) were the most positive (see Table 1). Attitudes toward homosexuals, bisexuals, and asexuals were more negative than attitudes toward heterosexuals, revealing a sexual minority bias. Within sexual minorities, homosexuals were evaluated most positively , followed by bisexuals,
with asexuals being evaluated most negatively of all groups. Thus, not only are more negative atti- tudes leveled toward sexual minorities (vs. hetero- sexuals), but antiasexual prejudice is the most pronounced of all.Less favorable attitudes toward each sexual minority group were associated with increases in
RWA, SDO, ingroup (i.e., heterosexual) identifi- cation, or religious fundamentalism, as expected (see Table 2). Interestingly, relations between these prejudice correlates and attitudes toward asexuals are similar to relations between these variables and well-established sexual minority attitudes (i.e., attitudes toward homosexuals, bisexuals), despite the latter engaging in same- sex behavior whereas asexuals engage in no (or little) sexual activity. Prejudice-prone individuals, it seems, are biased against sexual minorities due to their deviant status rather than sexual actions perse.Attitudes toward sexual minorities (homosexuals, bisexuals, asexuals) were significantly and posi- tively intercorrelated, suggesting generalized sex- ual minority attitudes (see Table 2). That is, those liking (or disliking) homosexuals or bisexuals like- wise like (or dislike) asexuals. Furthermore, a confirmatory factor analysis supported a single factor of sexual minority prejudice: loadings .94 bisexual, .85 homosexual, .73 asexual.Trait-based dehumanization Uniquely human traits were perceived to apply most to heterosexu- als and were attributed less to homosexuals and bisexuals than heterosexuals (see Table 1). Asexu- als were attributed significantly lower uniquely human traits than any other sexual orientation group. Human nature traits were attributed signifi- cantly more to homosexuals than heterosexuals, bisexuals, and asexuals. Human nature traits were attributed significantly more to bisexuals than heterosexuals and asexuals, and heterosexuals were attributed significantly more human nature traits than asexuals. Thus, of the four sexual ori- entation groups, asexuals were perceived to be least “human” in terms of both uniquely human and human nature traits/characteristics.Emotion-based dehumanization A similar pat- tern emerged regarding perceived emotions expe- rienced by each group. Uniquely human emotions were perceived to be experienced most by homo- sexuals, followed by heterosexuals, and bisexuals; uniquely human emotions were perceived to be significantly least experienced by asexuals relative to all other targets. Human nature emotions were perceived to be most experienced by heterosexu- als and homosexuals, less by bisexuals (relative to heterosexuals and homosexuals), and experi- enced the least by asexuals relative to heterosexu- als, homosexuals, and bisexuals. As with trait-based dehumanization, asexuals were denied uniquely human and human nature emotions (see Table 1).Overall, participants indicated greater preference for future contact with heterosexuals relative to sexual minorities. Within sexual minority groups, contact with homosexuals was preferred over con- tact with bisexuals or asexuals (see Table 1). Again, thisdemonstratesevidenceofantisexualminority bias, and contact least desired with bisexuals and asexuals(equivalently).Ofparticularinteresttothe present investigation, contact with asexuals was desiredsignificantlylessthancontactwithhomo- sexuals, a frequently studied prejudice target group.
Participants were most willing to rent to hetero- sexuals relative to sexual minorities. Following heterosexuals, participants were most willing to rent to homosexuals or asexuals, and least to bisexuals. The same pattern was observed with regard to hiring decisions (see Table 1). Overall, participants intended to discriminate against sex- ual minorities (including asexuals), with most bias directed toward bisexuals.Importantly, attitudes toward asexuals do not simply reflect negative biases toward single peo- ple. In fact, attitudes toward asexuals were not significantly related to singlism (see Table 2). Moreover, relations between RWA, SDO, ingroup identification, or religious fundamentalism and asexual attitudes remain relatively unchanged after statistically controlling for singlism (partial correlations equal −.41, −.31, −.29, and −.25, ps < .001, respectively).Empirically, very little is known about asexuality relative to other sexual orientations, and no research has addressed whether asexuals are tar- gets of bias at the group level. Addressing this lat- ter question for the first time, our analysis suggests that antiasexual prejudice is indeed a sexual minor- ity prejudice, correlating positively with attitudes toward homosexuals and bisexuals. Relative to the heterosexual ingroup, we find compelling evidence of antisexual minority prejudice, with this newly identified bias being particularly extreme. Strikingly, on many key measures (particularly intergroup evaluations, dehumanization, and for the most part, contact intentions), we find significantly more bias against asexuals than other sexual minorities, and discrimination intentions matching that against homosexuals. Overall, we find clear evi- dence of a previously unidentified and strong sex- ual minority prejudice: antiasexual bias.
In keeping with this bias being intergroup in nature, those higher (vs. lower) in RWA or SDO expressed particularly strong dislike of asexuals, as they typically do for deviant and low-status groups. In keeping with social identity theory, stronger heterosexual identification was also associated with greater asexual prejudice. This relation between heterosexual identification and favorable evaluations of asexual people became smaller when statistically controlling for RWA and SDO, but remained significant (rp = −.19, p = .022). Overall, negativity toward asexuals is marked by an ideological flavor that is clearly intergroup in nature, not a simple indifference toward a nonnormative other. Importantly, although those higher in SDO or RWA expressed greater singlism, their dislike of asexuals was not explained by singlism. Antiasexual bias is a type of sexual minority prejudice distinct from related constructs and rooted in ideological opposition to deviant sexuality (not merely those adopting independent or single lifestyles). That is, antia- sexual bias is not merely singlism.
Those higher (vs. lower) in religious funda- mentalism also demonstrated less favorable atti- tudes toward asexual people, despite asexuals being disinterested in sexual relations, a relation that remains after statistically controlling for SDO (rp = −.19, p = .019). Upon statistically control- ling for RWA however (rp = .05, p = .548), or both RWA and SDO (rp = .03, p = .698), this relation- ship reduces to nonsignificance. This latter find- ing is unsurprising, given that few variables predict prejudice above and beyond RWA and SDO (see Altemeyer, 1998). Further, strong correlations typically exist between RWA and religious funda- mentalism (r = .67 in the current study), leading Altemeyer and Hunsberger (2004) to consider religious fundamentalism a “religious manifesta- tion” of RWA. Thus, while evaluations of asexu- als are more negative among prejudice-prone individuals, asexual prejudice does not have a unique religious component, but rather reflects concerns with status quo and group dominance.
Our dehumanization results are particularly compelling. Asexuals (relative to heterosexuals) were dehumanized with regard to both dimen- sions (represented as animalistic, and particularly as machine-like), regardless of whether these assess- ments were based on traits (i.e., characteristics) or emotions (i.e., sensation capability). Generally speaking, asexual dehumanization was greater than that characterizing other sexual minorities, showcasing this bias as serious and extreme. Sexuality appears to be perceived as a key compo- nent of humanness. The dehumanization meas- ures employed did not explicitly reference sexuality, yet asexuals were strongly biased against on these measures. Thus, characteristics/emo- tions representing humanness are clearly inter- twined with sexuality and/or sexual desire.
The researchers then replicated the study with a new population.
Replicating Study 1, a sexual minority bias was demonstrated whereby attitudes toward heterosex- uals were the most positive, followed by attitudes toward homosexuals, bisexuals, and asexuals. Within sexual minorities, homosexuals and bisexu- als were evaluated equivalently, with asexuals evalu- ated more negatively than both homosexuals and bisexuals (see Table 3). Again, the pattern of antia- sexual prejudice, relative to the heterosexual ingroup and even relative to other sexual minorities was uncovered. Importantly, this general pattern of differential evaluation of sexual orientation groups matches that of Study 1, even though atti- tudes toward each group are more positive in the online (vs. student) sample (ps < .003).As in Study 1, less favorable attitudes toward sex- ual minority groups were associated with increases in RWA, SDO, heterosexual identification, or reli- gious fundamentalism. In one exception, attitudes toward asexuals were not significantly correlated with religious fundamentalism (see Table 4). Overall, associations between attitudes and RWA, SDO, and heterosexual identification corroborate our findings from Study 1: prejudice-prone indi- viduals are more biased toward asexuals, as they are toward other sexual minorities (note that, unlike Study 1, the relation between heterosexual identification and bias toward asexuals reduces to nonsignificance when statistically controlling for RWA and SDO, consistent with the notion that bias against asexuals is about conventionality, tra- ditionalism, and group dominance).As in Study 1, attitudes toward sexual minorities were positively intercorrelated (see Table 4) with a confirmatory factor analysis supporting a single factor of sexual minority prejudice: loadings .97
6 bisexual, .89 homosexual, .76 asexual .Uniquely human
traits were perceived to apply most to heterosexuals and homosexuals, and attributed less to bisexuals and asexuals than heterosexuals (see Table 3). Human nature traits were perceived to apply equiva- lently to heterosexuals, homosexuals, and bisexuals, with asexuals attributed significantly lower human nature traits than each of the other groups. Thus, evidence of antiasexual bias was again evident.Both uniquely human and human nature emotions were per- ceived to be experienced equivalently by hetero- sexuals, homosexuals, and bisexuals, and experienced significantly less by asexuals relative to each of the other groups. Again, asexuals were relatively denied uniquely human and human nature emotions (see Table 3).Confirming Study 1, heterosexuals indicated prefer- ence for future contact with heterosexuals relative to
sexual minorities. Desired future contact with homosexuals and bisexuals were equivalent, and contact with asexuals was even less desired than contact with homosexuals (see Table 3).A sexual minority bias was evident, whereby par- ticipants were most willing to rent to and/or hire heterosexuals relative to homosexuals, bisexuals, or asexuals (see Table 3).In Study 2, less favorable attitudes toward asexu- als were related to greater singlism (r = −.22), but not so much as to indicate strong conceptual overlap (see Table 4). Furthermore, relations between RWA, SDO, or ingroup identification and favorable attitudes toward asexual people remained significant after statistically controlling for singlism (partial correlations equal −.30, −.26, −.22, and ps < .03, respectively). These findings further corroborate the proposition that biases against asexuals concern their sexual deviancy rather than simple biases against those who are relatively independent and not in committed sex- ual relationships.As noted previously, bias against asexuals might reflect a bias against a relatively unfamil- iar sexual minority, rather than asexuality per se. This potential explanation, however, is not supported. Heterosexuals were not surprisingly the most familiar sexual orientation group (M = 8.90). Homosexuals (M = 8.51) were less familiar than heterosexuals, followed by bisex- uals (M = 7.92) (ps < .001). Asexuals (M = 5.80) were less familiar than heterosexuals, homosexuals, and bisexuals (ps < .001). As expected, sapiosexuals (M = 2.67) were deemed significantly less familiar than heterosexuals, homosexuals, bisexuals, and most critically, asexuals (ps < .001).
Although asexuals were not the least familiar sexual minority target, they were nevertheless the most negatively evaluated. That is, attitudes toward asexuals were significantly more nega- tive than attitudes toward sapiosexuals (M = 6.81), t(100) = 2.24, p = .027. If lack of famili- arity were solely responsible for the pattern of group evaluations obtained (see Tables 1 and 3), sapiosexuals would be the most negatively eval- uatedgroup.Infurtherevidencethatfamiliarity per se does not explain dislike of asexuals, rela- tions between RWA, SDO, or ingroup identifi- cation with asexual evaluations were relatively unchanged after statistically controlling for familiarity with asexuals (partial correlations equal −.36, −.31, −.24, and ps < .02, respec- tively). Prejudice-prone persons, therefore, were not more prejudiced toward asexuals as a result of mere unfamiliarity.Employing an online community sample, the results of Study 2 largely confirm those from the university sample examined in Study 1. Asexuals were evaluated negatively relative to both hetero- sexuals and other sexual minorities, with order effects not explaining this pattern given the rand- omized order of evaluations. Notably, asexuals were evaluated more negatively than a very unfa- miliar sexual minority comparison group, sapio- sexuals. The group lacking sexual desire, rather than the least familiar group, was the target of the most negative attitudes. Again, we provide evi- dence that antiasexual bias is a form of sexual minority prejudice, that those prone to prejudice are more prone to antiasexual bias, and that asex- uals are targets of dehumanization, avoidance, and discrimination intentions. Further, we dem- onstrate that bias toward asexuals is either equiva- lent to, or even more extreme, than bias toward homosexuals and bisexuals.
Although these results largely corroborate Study 1 some interesting differences emerged. First, mean evaluations of each group were noticeably more positive in Study 2. Interestingly, university students were more negative toward homosexuals, bisexuals, and asexuals than the population in general. This might come as a sur- prise given university students’ reported tendency toward liberalism and lower prejudices toward most other social targets (Henry, 2008). This finding suggests that university-aged students strongly value heteronormative sex, viewing sex- ual minorities, especially those preferring no sex at all, as deficient. Second, although asexuals were dehumanized on both dimensions (uniquely human and human nature) by the overall sample, sex differences emerged, whereby men repre- sented asexuals as animalistic more consistently than did women (see Endnote 5). There was a strong overall tendency however, as in Study 1, for asexuals to be viewed by both men and women as more machine-like than heterosexuals, homosexuals, or bisexuals. Overall, asexuals are clear targets of bias by heterosexuals.
Discussion of Findings In Both Studies
We have established consistently that asexuals are evalu- ated negatively (not due to a simple lack of famili- arity). Asexuals’ status as a highly atypical and “deficient” (Herek, 2010) sexual minority group seems to be a more likely source of this prejudice. We have established various forms of antiasexual bias (including dehumanization) relative to heter- osexuals and, in some cases, other sexual minority groups. Taken together, Studies 1 and 2 confirm the existence of antiasexual bias, in university and community samples, respectively.
Our findings are in keeping with Herek’s (2010) “differences as deficits” model of sexual orientation, where sexual minorities deviating from the norm are considered substandard and deserving of negativity by the majority. This model is gradually becoming less applicable to homosexuals and bisexuals with changes in soci- etal norms (Herek, 2010), consistent with our findings that homosexuals (and in some cases bisexuals) were viewed as equally or more human than the heterosexual ingroup . However, we
posit that asexuals fit well within the “differences as deficits” framework. Asexuals are the sexual minority that is most clearly considered “defi- cient” by heterosexuals. In keeping with this interpretation, themes relevant to maintaining the status quo and group dominance (RWA and SDO, respectively) proved consistently important in predicting antiasexual attitudes, whereas con- cerns with positive ingroup identity and religious fundamentalism were less uniquely important.
Although antiasexual bias is a clear compo- nent of sexual minority prejudice, it is also unique in that it was repeatedly stronger than bias toward other sexual minorities. Most disturbingly, asexu- als are viewed as less human, especially lacking in
terms of human nature. This confirms that sex- ual desire is considered a key component of human nature, and those lacking it are viewed as relatively deficient, less human, and disliked. It appears that asexuals do not “fit” the typical defi- nition of human and as such are viewed as less human or even nonhuman, rendering them an extreme sexual orientation outgroup and very strong targets of bias. Future research can address the mechanisms underlying this tendency.
“And Now I’m Just Different, but There’s Nothing Actually Wrong With Me”: Asexual Marginalization and Resistance (Study Published in the Journal of Homosexuality)
"A number of scholars studying asexuality have argued that although Western society is certainly “sex negative” in some ways, Western society also systematically privileges sexual identifications, desires, and activities while marginalizing different forms of non- sexuality, to the detriment of asexually identified individuals (for example, Chasin, 2013; Emens, 2014; Gupta, 2015a). According to some scholars, asexual commu- nity formation poses a challenge to this society-wide system of “compulsory sexuality” or “sex-normativity,” calling into question deeply held assumptions about sexuality and relationality (Chasin, 2013).A number of studies have explored one or more of the negative impacts of contemporary sexual norms on the lives of asexually identified individuals. According to this scholarship, asexually identified individuals can face pathologization (Foster & Scherrer, 2014; Robbins, Low, & Query, 2015), difficulties in relationships and social situations (Carrigan, 2011), and disbelief or denial of their asexual self-identification (MacNeela & Murphy, 2014).In response to a direct question about whether they had ever felt stigmatized or marginalized as a result of their asexual identity, more than one half of the interviewees answered “yes,” more than one quarter answered “maybe” or “in some ways yes, in some ways no,” and around 20% answered “no.” In addition, all the interviewees described at least one negative experience attributable to compulsory sexuality. Here I offer a typology of these negative impacts of compulsory sexuality: pathologization, isolation, unwanted sex and relationship conflict, and the denial of epistemic authority. It is important to emphasize that what follows should not be taken as direct evidence of marginalization, stigma, or discrimination but as the interviewees’ interpretations of and narratives about particular life experiences.Isolation and invisibility
When asked about experiences of stigma or marginalization or if they saw any
negative aspects to identifying as asexual, at least two thirds of interviewees
reported occasionally feeling isolated or alienated from others or from society as
a result of the stigmatization or invisibility of nonsexuality. For example, Hannah talked about avoiding restaurants, bars, and clubs to avoid feeling isolated: “I think that a lot of social activities are like that, a lot of people think the goal is to hook up...So I sort of don’t want to participate in these sorts of things.” Anne, a current undergraduate majoring in psychology, described feeling isolated during a classroom discussion about sex: “It’s sort of a lonely feeling...everyone was like laughing and so forth, and I was kind of like ‘Ha-ha-ha, I don’t really get it,’ you know?” Sharon, age 49, described being bullied as a child, which she attributed to her weight and social awkwardness and to her lack of interest in dating or sex. She said, “I know my general social awkwardness, especially then, was a big part of what made me a target for them, but I also think that the asexuality played a significant part as well. I didn’t react to those boys the way they wanted me to. I had no sexual interest in them, and didn’t know how to fake it.”
At least 12 interviewees described feeling left out when their friends or peers talked about sex. For example, Lilly, 19, stated, “There would be a sleepover and people would be like, ‘Let’s play truth or dare.’ And almost all the questions are like, ‘Oh, who do you like? Have you ever kissed a guy? Who do you have a crush on?’ And I’d just be sitting there, like, ‘I don’t have a crush on anyone.’ ... And usually they’re like, ‘Oh, you’re boring.’”
At least eight interviewees described feeling isolated as a result of what they perceived as the overwhelming sexualization of the media and advertising. Mark, 25, said, “And now there’s sex everywhere...Also, sex sells on television, commercials, television shows...It’s just—I feel like it’s everywhere.” At least seven interviewees reported feeling isolated because asexuality is not represented in the media. Lilly said, “And so definitely the main thing that we face is erasure...the number of [asexual] characters in books and movies and TV who openly identify as asexual is two...it’s hard to figure stuff out just because there’s no examples.”Denial of epistemic authority
Lastly, in response to a question about how others had responded to their (a) sexuality, almost two thirds of interviewees reported at least one experience where they had been denied epistemic authority in regard to their own
sexuality. In other words, according to these interviewees, they had been met with the reaction that they could not know that they were asexual—they were told that they could be late bloomers, they had not met the right person yet, or they were repressing their sexual desires. About this Hannah said, “They insist that you essentially are not mentally competent to make your own decisions about yourself, which is really insulting to imply. You’ve met them for five minutes and they automatically know that you can’t make decisions by your- self. Like that’s really rude.” This was a response that interviewees reported encountering even in some LGBT communities. Eleanor, 50, said, “Nobody will just say, ‘Cool, you’re asexual.’ ... Even among gays and lesbians—that’s the one that always freaks me out—that gay and lesbian people can’t under- stand since they have a unique sexuality. But I guess they feel like everyone should have a sex, want to have sex, be attracted sexually to people.” On the other hand, it is important to note that at least 17 interviewees also described an instance in which they received a supportive response upon coming out.
A mystery wrapped in an enigma – asexuality: a virtual discussion (Interview with prominent researchers in asexuality)
"How is the negativity directed toward asexual individuals similar to/different from the negativity directed at other sexual minorities (e.g., gay men, lesbian women, etc.)?
I imagine that the similarities in the negativity experienced would revolve around the ‘magic cure.’ How many times has a lesbian woman been told ‘all you need is a good fuck by a real man?’ As if a lesbian woman is only interested in women because she hasn’t ‘met the right man.’ I have personally been told that if I just slept with a woman I would ‘absolutely fuckin’ love it’ and I would be ‘normal.’ I would imagine the same would be true for asexual individuals, being told that all they need is sex with someone (of the opposite sex of course) to ‘cure’ them and make them ‘normal.’
– BishopWe need to remember that many asexual individuals also identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and/or queer, and thus may face the same types of negativity directed at other LGBTQ individuals. My general impression from the U.S. context is that the negativity directed at asexual individuals is similar in some ways to the negativity directed at other sexual (and gender) minorities: asexual individuals, like other sexual minorities, may be perceived as mentally or physically ill, asexual individuals may feel alienated in social settings organized to facilitate heterosexual coupling, and asexual individuals may be denied legal and/or social recognition of their most important relationships. On the other hand, to a perhaps greater extent than other sexual minorities, asexual individuals are often denied ‘epistemic authority’ in regards to their own (a)sexuality. In other words, asexual individuals may be met with the reaction that they can’t really know that they are asexual – maybe they haven’t met the right person yet, maybe they are ‘late bloomers,’ maybe they are unconsciously repressing their sexual desires, maybe there is a physical cause of their asexuality that simply hasn’t been found yet. It is also my impression that asexual individuals in the U.S. (who do not also identify as LGBTQ) do not seem to be widely subjected to some of the more virulent hostility directed at other sexual and gender minorities, such physical battering and employment discrimination.
– GuptaWhat directions do you expect asexuality research to take over the next decade?
I hope that at the very least future research will not focus on how to ‘fix’ asexual individuals and will instead focus on them as people and the struggles they face. I realize this is unlikely to happen as there will be labs out there funded by religious groups or other ‘crusaders’ who want to ‘help’ asexual individuals. But still, a guy can dream.
– Bishop"
Freedom and foreclosure: Intimate consequences for asexual identities (Journal of Family Relationships And Societies)
“These participants thought of themselves as being inherently different; as Lisa poignantly says here,“not even a proper human being”.This shows the two ways in which identity can occur via dissociation from others (Skeggs, 2005). First, one’s self-identity can shape what we think we can or cannot do and therefore the strategies we adopt. In this case, the lack of experience of sexual intimacy is foundational to Deena’s account – which she feels means that she cannot fully participate in her friendships. Consequently, Deena practiced faking with her female friends – she internalised the cultural script and, much like Immy, developed a way of ‘passing’ to hide what she believed was the discreditable stigma of her lack of sexual experience. She used this ‘cover story’ as a strategy of information control for the purposes of dramaturgical self-presentation (Goffman, 1959, 1963). Second, interactions and relations affect self-identity: being unable to relate to others about something that is so important to her made Lisa feel excluded and alienated.This inevitably affected her sense of self and reinforced the feelings of difference; of ‘not being a proper human being’.Therefore, here we see the ways in which the cultural ‘sexual assumption’(Carrigan,2012) can lead to forms of exclusion for those who do not fit within it.“
Mental Health Disparities by Identity Among Gender and Sexual Minorities (University of Minnesota)
"In addition, victims of LGBTQIA2S+ hate crimes are more likely to experience indifference and abuse from law enforcement when attempting to report the crime, another example of structural stigma which could compound the stress of being victimized in the first place (Hein & Scharer, 2012).
Asexual, bisexual, and trans people experience more marginalization in society in general, and although this marginalization extends to psychological research, the research that has been done shows that mental health disparities are more severe for these particular groups.
When comparing the different types of negative attitudes and bias of heterosexuals toward different sexual minority identities, it was found that regardless of whether bias was based on “right wing authoritarianism,” (bias based on ideology) or “social dominance orientation,” (bias based on cultural norms) heterosexuals had most negative attitudes and bias toward asexuals, followed by bisexuals, with homosexuals as the sexual minority receiving the least bias and negativity (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). This demonstrates that there is more individual bias toward the more marginalized identities in order of marginalization, so bisexuals experience more negativity and bias directed toward them than gay or lesbian people, and asexuals experience even more. It is possible that this bias is directed toward identities perceived as more “deviant”: asexuals may be more deviant because they do not conform to the social expectation that everyone is interested in sex (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). It was also found that asexuals were seen in dehumanizing terms by the participants, who labeled them as lacking both “uniquely human” and “human nature” qualities, meaning they were seen as inhuman in both animalistic and machine-like ways (Macinnis & Hodson, 2012). These negative attitudes contribute to interpersonal stigma, a minority stressor."
Passing When Asexual: Methods for Appearing Straight (McKendree University)
“ The research indicated that coming out occurs in liberal spaces and passing occurs in conservative spaces. The findings showed that all but one participant both passed and are out to some extent. The great majority of the participants were out to friends at college, a typically liberal space. This is revealed by the fact that Karen reported that she came out to her college friends because she knew that they would accept her. Emily and Elayne reported similar experiences and reasons for coming out. Conversely, participants showed tendencies to pass at home and in church, both traditionally conservative areas. Families were reported as being less understanding, or at least less knowledgeable, than the environment at school (Emily, Toni, Karen, Sam Interviews). The final analysis of the research indicates a strong sentiment that the information that is available for people new to the asexual community is largely inadequate and difficult to find. This reveals that there is a legitimate need for more widely available information about asexuality, not only for those who are beginning to identify but also for those who do identify as well as families that need to understand. Passing is a perceived necessity that has long been associated with sexual deviance, and minority status (Wallqvist and Lindblom 2015). Understanding how and why asexual people pass is a crucial facet of understanding asexuality as a whole.”
Stories About Asexuality: A Qualitative Study on Asexual Women (Journal of Sex & Maritial Therapy)
"Given that they did not have a name or label to describe how they felt, 4 women thought there must be something wrong with them.With the exception of 2 women, all participants have come out to others, at least partially: they have told other people that they are asexual. Jessica, 30 years old and single, described how she felt forced to come out so she could have a normal relationship with her mother.
Ihadtocomeout,becausenowuhm... nowIcanhaveanormalconversationwithmymother,until that time our conversation only regarded relationships, and then I got angry, and then she got angry and we were both angry. Eventually, all we did was fighting, and that’s why I have decided to come out.
(Jessica, 30 years old, single)
Other women did not feel this pressure but decided to tell people about their asexuality because they had accepted their own identity and wanted to share that with others, given that it is a part of who they are.
It was nice to talk to people about it and to hear: maybe that’s just how it is. Yeah, someone agreeing with me on that, that was really nice.
(Mia, 31 years old, single)
When telling people about their asexuality, the participants in our study received mixed reactions. Five women received negative reactions ranging from not understanding, not believing in the existence of asexuality, to unwanted advice about the necessity to change their asexuality. Emily illustrated these negative reactions prototypically:
Disbelief, like: it’s just a phase, it will change one day, you just haven’t met the right person yet, you just haven’t been truly in love yet. Things like that.
(Emily, 20 years old, in a relationship)While 5 women stated that being asexual did not have a major effect on their currently daily life, 4 participants nevertheless indicated changes since they realized they are asexual. For example, 26-year-old and single Chloe described how it has changed her social life:
I’ve noticed that I less often feel like going out with friends, for instance because then you’re in that situation again and I don’t want that. [ . . . ] While before, I used to love it, going out dancing, but then it didn’ t have that connotation yet. [... ] Now, when I go out and I meet men, I try to stay as neutral as possible.
(Chloe, 26 years old, single)The support of an online community might especially be important given that recent evidence showed that asexual individuals may be viewed more negatively than other sexual minorities (MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). This was also somewhat reflected in the negative and dismissive reactions some of our participants experienced when they came out. Scherrer (2008) and Bogaert (2012) noted that the process of identity development in asexual persons shows similarities with the processes of developing a lesbian, gay, or bisexual identity. The possible parallels in sexual identity development between lesbian, gay, and bisexual individuals and asexual individuals could be informative for clinicians when asexual individuals would consult them. After all, this would imply that asexual persons experience struggles and (minority) stress similar to those of lesbian, gay, and bisexual individuals and that when asexual persons would seek clinical counseling, attention should also be paid to these topics, apart from working toward acceptance of the asexual identity."
“I have a lot of feelings, just none in the genitalia region”: A grounded theory of asexual college students’ identity journeys (Journal of College Student Development)
“This research also brings awareness to pervasive allonormativity and the negative influences asexual invisibility, invalidation, and erasure have in the lives of asexual students. Max provided an important summative comment, “Being invisible isn’t a privilege, and it’s not [pause] I don’t know how to describe it because I feel like it’s too obvious for words in a lot of ways.” Max’s words underscore the narratives of participants who collectively felt they were broken, obstacles to their development, and experiences of oppression fueled by the invisibility of asexuality. These findings align with Robbins et al., (2016) perceptions about invisibility including the unique role of the internet in discovering asexuality and students’ likelihood to pathologize their lack of attraction before gaining awareness of asexuality.
In a 2015 online survey of asexual college students, 70% of participants identified increased awareness of asexuality as a top priority for improving higher education for asexual students (Author, 2015). The findings from this study further illuminate the imperative of asexual visibility. Increased visibility represents a pivotal tool for supporting asexual students in finding and understanding their identities. If students knew asexuality existed, perhaps their journeys gaining awareness of asexuality, could include more personal authority and less feelings of uncertainty and inadequacy. This is not to suggest that visibility is all that institutions should do to support asexual students; rather, acknowledging that asexual students exist and creating awareness represents a necessary foundation to begin deconstructing allonormativity and supporting identity development of asexual students.
In students’ expatiation, the salience of their asexual identities as well as their other identities also influenced their processes and experiences of asexual identity development. The study findings clearly indicate the inextricable connection between asexuality, students’ multiple identities, and the multiple oppressive societal influences. Across the entire ASE model, students’ multiple minoritized identities influenced their identity journey from how they found asexuality, the salience of their asexuality, and how they integrated asexuality within their lives. Students with multiple minoritized identities often engaged in more expansive identity exploration as they tried to put the pieces together inclusive of all of their identities.
Students with multiple minoritized identities discussed ways oppression of their multiple identities, in conjunction with their asexuality, created cumulative marginalization. Of particular note, the experiences of intersectional invisibility described by the Students of Color emphasize lasting effects of whiteness associated with asexuality. The participants in this study did not specifically mention the overt omission of race from AVEN or the historic foundations of asexual as a racialized term; rather, they acknowledged the broad invisibility of asexual People of Color in any contexts they had discovered. Gender and ability stereotypes influenced students’ though the entire model. The experiences of asexual students with multiple minoritized identities underscores the continued importance of not examining students’ identity development in fragmented or isolated ways.
The findings integrating students’ multiple identities align with the findings from Foster et al. (2019) study of asexual WOC. They similarly identified participants’ feelings of isolation, particularly in struggling to find asexual Communities of Color. Within the domain of identity development processes, the ASE model supports several of their findings including experiences of making sense of differences, negotiating personal definitions of asexuality, and acceptance of asexual identity. These similarities highlight areas for continued research centering asexual college Students of Color.”
“Maybe all these random experiences form a cohesive picture”: towards a grounded theory of asexual college students’ identity development (a book-length exploration into the effects of asexuality on twelve college students from The University of Iowa)
“This study explored the experiences of 12 college students as they reflected on their journeys to understand their sexual identities. Each of the students identifies as asexual. In other words, they have little to no sexual attraction to people of any gender. Distinct from celibacy (which is a choice to refrain from sexual behavior), the students described feeling a sense of difference from peers and family during their adolescence. Using an interview-based method, students shared about memorable experiences related to their asexual identity.
From the participants’ experiences, a theory emerged as a potential representation of asexual college student identity development, the Asexual Student Expatiation Model (ASE). The ASE model demonstrates the complexity and non-linearity of the students’ experiences within societal structures that invalidate asexuality. Within the model, students engaged in processes of assimilating, searching for meaning, seeing themselves as asexual, situating in society, internalizing negativity, and experiencing wholeness. The students’ stories detail their unique and individual experiences and paths navigating gaining awareness, identifying, and reconciling asexuality in their lives with their other identities.
The study informs future research, theory, and college student affairs professionals. Recent estimates suggest that more than five percent of college students may identify as asexual. Despite the suggested prevalence, this is the first study of asexual college students that uses their narratives as the foundation for exploration.“
Coming To An Asexual Identity: Negotiating Identity, Negotiating Desire (from Sexualities: Sage Journals)
"As suggested throughout, there are myriad connections between asexuality and other sexual minorities. First, asexuality shares an association both historically and presently to medical institutions with other margin- alized sexual desires and behaviors. Yet, while activists and scholars have challenged the connections between medical discourses and same-sex desire (Conrad and Schneider, 1994; Kraft-Ebbing, 1886 [1959]; Rubin, 1984), diagnoses associated with asexuality (such as Sexual Aversion Disorder and Hyposexual Desire Disorder) are relatively unexplored. These similarities motivate collaboration in political strategy, as both asexual people and other sexual minorities who are in conversation with medical discourses might collaborate for a more complete transformation of these discourses. The lack of visibility and awareness of asexuality is a barrier to its inclusion in other sexuality-based political action groups.While a historical and contemporary relationship with discourses of medicine are shared, LGBTQ identities also have a historical relationship with legal institutions as gender presentation and same-sex behaviors have been prosecuted by legal institutions (D’Emilio, 1983; Rubin, 1984). Asexuality, on the other hand, has been largely unnoticed by legal insti- tutions, perhaps in part because of its lack of behavior and desire. In some ways, because asexuality is defined as a lack of behavior or desire, it has escaped attention, which is a clear departure from the experiences of other marginalized sexualities.
Asexual and LGBTQ groups also share similarities as both have created identity-based communities. As research documents, gay, lesbian, trans- gender and BDSM individuals use sexual identity communities to find support, relationships and to engage politically (D’Emilio, 1998; Rust, 1992). This is similar to how asexual individuals describe the functions of asexual communities. These communities not only serve similar functions, but both asexual and LGBTQ people are using internet technologies to form community (Jay, 2003; McKenna and Bargh, 1998; Turkle, 1995). While both utilize the networking possibilities of the internet, queer communities have additional visibility in physical spaces such as bars, bookstores and social service organizations that cater to LGBTQ ident- ities. Furthermore, there are cultural symbols that represent the desires, identities and behaviors of LGBTQ identities and subcultures (such as rainbows or pink triangles), whereas symbols of asexual identities and and subcultures are not yet generally recognizable. Thus, while both asexual and LGBTQ identities have identity-based communities, the forms and functions of these communities are distinct.
While the aforementioned aspects are more social-structural, asexuality shares a similar social-psychological process of coming to an identity as other marginalized sexual identities. As Paula Rust says, sexual identity is ‘a description of the location of the self in relation to other individuals, groups and institutions’ (Rust, 1996: 78). Given this understanding of sexual identity, bisexual, asexual, gay and pan-sexual individuals all draw on existing language, their current social situation and the social and cultural meanings associated with these identities to place themselves in relation to other individuals and institutions and to accurately describe their internal sense of self. Additionally, asexual individuals, as well as gay, bisexual or queer individuals, often share a sense of their sexuality as biological and innate, despite descriptions of coming to these identities that reveal profoundly social experiences.
In this article, I have described a few of the intersections between asexuality and other marginalized sexualities. This analysis is far from exhaustive, but it highlights the similarities between these sexualities and creates a need for further exploration of the overlapping social and political agendas of these marginalized sexualities. Not only are asexual identities interesting in their own right, but they contribute to a broader understanding of the construction of sexualities."
Denial and Negative Policing of Same-Sex Intimacy and Existence(The author, Gopa Bhardwaj, is a Professor of Psychology in the School of Humanities & Social Sciences, Galgotias University, Uttar Pradesh, India)
“ An added issue along with LGBT is the notion of being asexual. (Gupta 2017) ‘Asexual’ refers to the stigmatization or invisibility of non-sexuality. We need to understand this issue also, because the relationship between contemporary asexual lives and compulsory sexuality, or the ‘privileging’ of sexuality and the ‘marginalizing’ of non-sexuality has been ignored in societal life and very little attention has been paid to the existence and trauma of being asexual and forced to live a traumatic life in order to be “normal”. According to Gupta, asexuality refers to de-emphasizing the importance of sexuality in human life; developing new types of nonsexual relationships; constituting asexuality as a sexual orientation or identity; and engaging in community building and outreach. Gupta (2017) argues that some of these practices offer only a limited disruption of compulsory sexuality, but some of these practices pose a radical challenge to sexual norms by calling into question the widespread assumption that sexuality is a necessary part of human flourish, emphasizing the concept of compulsory sexuality.“
ACT Aces: Asexual
Experiences Survey
The Culture of Sexuality: Identification, Conceptualization, and Acculturation Processes Within Sexual Minority and Heterosexual Cultures (Utah State University)
“Sexual minorities also shared witnessing or hearing negative attitudes towards asexuality (i.e., acephobia). Seattle stated that within the LGBTQ+ culture, there is, “some tensions there with... with asexuality.” Both Oliver I and Oliver II both described the negative attitudes towards asexuality found within the culture.
Asexuality is a big... it’s been a big topic of debate... people thinking Asexual people don’t belong in the community... because um, being Asexual, you still can be cisgender and hetero-romantic or just like “cis het” in some way. And in that sense, you would technically be the oppressor... and in that sense... you shouldn’t belong or take community resources away from people who are actually queer. (Oliver I)
I see a lot of biphobia and acephobia within the LGBT community because it isn’t even like the typical gay identity, it’s seen as something that goes against even norms that are set by the LGBT community. (Oliver II)”
While there has been increased visibility of asexuality within the LGBTQ+ community, asexuality still appears to be ostracized and discriminated against (Chasin, 2015). Individuals who identify as asexual face unique challenges pertaining to their
sexual identity (e.g., pathologizing low sexual desire as possible symptoms of depression) that are perpetuated within the heterodominant society as well as the LGBTQ+ culture (Chasin, 2015; MacInnis & Hodson, 2012). Research on asexuality, their sexual identity development, and experiences with discrimination are lacking within the field of psychology and should be further explored.“