The ‘A’ in LGBTQIA+ stands for aromantic, asexual, and agender. (…) I often joke that, being all three, I am a void, a black hole.
The ‘A’ in LGBTQIA+ stands for aromantic, asexual, and agender. (…) I often joke that, being all three, I am a void, a black hole.
For me, having sex never completes me. On the contrary, it usually makes me feel worthless, even when I’ve had sex consensually.
But… how could I be asexual and a fetishist? Aren’t those two things completely in conflict with one another?
Asexuality is such a valuable way to experience and navigate human connection, and I now know much better than to feel otherwise.
All this and more occurs in the very moment I negotiate with the culture and structure that defines my absence-identity – in sex.
I couldn’t think, speak, or move. I’ve rejected him three times, but three times was not enough for him.
Brian Fink, PhD examines asexual community participation and identifies the reasons why asexuals do or do not participate in communities, both online and offline.
Sex can be a weapon – a dagger that can leave wounds that will never fully heal.
We grew up hearing that we had to admire and aspire to be with these alluring people, so that we could have sex with them and have nice children: “hay que mejorar la raza.”
Asexual is one such label which has met with misrepresentations — perpetuated in medicine, the law, and popular media — due to both the lack of a strict definition and a pervasive “sexual assumption.”
For our Sex issue, The Asexual invites writers and artists under the ace umbrella to explore the intersections of the sexual and asexual.
Coming of age, I knew I was gay. But, something always felt... different.
Growing up as a second-generation Chinese Australian, I was constantly learning that the norm was actually just my norm.