The Importance of Asexual Visibility in Today's World from LGBTQ+ Officer, Sophia Hanson
We live in a time of unprecedented freedom for queer people of all stripes. It’s not perfect, by any means, but protections for gay and trans people are being established in more and more countries, gay marriage is being legalised, and gender transition is, for the most part, more accessible than it has ever been. Perhaps most significantly, queerness is no longer something to be relegated to the footnotes of history and only talked about kindly behind closed doors. You can be out and proud and find yourself by seeing other people openly express themselves too. So, where does asexuality fit into this brave new world?
While aces have always existed, and are being recognised more today, most people have still never heard the term, except perhaps in reference to cell reproduction in biology class. Asexuality can be a subtle thing – it is, by its very definition, the state of not experiencing something. In the absence of other evidence, a lot of asexual people will go through life assuming that everyone is faking or playing up their attraction, or that there is something wrong with them that needs hiding. A lot of people don’t think it’s possible that someone can be attracted to no one, ever. Perhaps asexual people just haven’t met the right person yet. (Maybe you’ve heard people tell someone who’s gay that they ‘haven’t met the right man/woman yet’ – it’s the exact same thing.)
Perhaps the most harmful assumption made about asexuality is that because it is self-contained, because it is, for the most part, invisible, asexual people are not discriminated against. After all, if they just don’t tell you they’re ace, surely they can be treated no differently than any allosexual person – probably even no different than a straight person. More so if they don’t even know that they’re asexual. This suppression and self-denial is part of asexual discrimination, and it is an insidious one. As a form of oppression, it may be unfamiliar, especially in comparison to the way other queer people are treated today, where the assertion is typically that their actions and existence are dangerous/amoral/predatory/another prejudice of your choice, but everyone is aware, to some extent, that such people exist. It is not so for aces, who might go decades without realising that experiencing no attraction is even an option. Asexual people are denied their right to know themselves and be themselves by living in a world where experiencing sexual attraction is not just a norm but an expectation.
One of the most damning indicators of how asexual people are treated to this day is the inclusion of a condition called ‘Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder’ (HSDD) in the DSM, a diagnostic handbook of mental illnesses recognised internationally. It describes someone who, through no discernible cause such as physical illness or libido-suppressing medication, experiences little to no sexual attraction or desire. (Sound familiar?) Other similar diagnostic criteria for the same condition exist in other texts. Asexual activists campaigned hard to get an exception listed for this condition, which was included in the latest edition, the DSM-5, whereby an individual who identifies as asexual is not considered to have HSDD, but it remains in the diagnostic handbook. By treating asexuality as an illness by default and an identity by exception, asexual people are made to feel broken and out of place. Doubly so if you are asexual and don’t know it, because a lot of places that you might turn to for help and support will treat you like someone who needs fixing, not someone who needs a community.
Asexuality is not recognised as a protected identity in any country (in entirety) on Earth. That means that while general anti-discrimination laws might discourage treating asexual people differently, they are not a specific protected class in the way that, for instance, gay or disabled people are. There are technically no bans on asexual conversion therapy because for the most part, such ‘treatment’ isn’t even regarded as conversion therapy. The only place in the world that considers asexuals a protected class is the US state of New York.
Asexual visibility is perhaps the most important thing events like Ace Week can accomplish. It is only with greater knowledge and understanding of what it means to be ace that liberation and progression for asexual people can be realised. There are still too many people in the world unaware that the way they feel does not make them broken, and they are trying to twist themselves into shapes that are not their own so that they can be ‘normal’.
The conversation is changing, slowly. There are public figures who are openly ace and raise awareness about the sexuality. There are people campaigning to ensure that asexuality is recognised and protected. We are making progress and will continue to do so. I greatly look forward to the day when the conversation about asexuality is no longer about what we don’t have, but rather what we do.