Let’s also consider how environmental factors could contribute to asexuality, particularly through its association with gender identities and gender roles. One way is through asexual people’s identification or dis-identification with one or both sexes. Researchers have argued that identification processes are important in sexual orientation development. Psychologist Darryl Bem asserts that if one’s gender identity and gender role are traditional—for example, a boy identifying with other boys and engaging in traditional “masculine” behaviors, and so forth—it makes the opposite sex different and “exotic” and, ultimately, sexually arousing. Conversely, if a boy does not identify with boys but with girls, and engages in traditional feminine behaviors, it may make the same sex seem different and exotic and sexually arousing. Bem suggests that these processes can explain traditional sexual orientation development—in other words, how masculine boys become attracted to feminine girls. He also suggests that the same processes can explain how same-sex attraction occurs in gender nonconforming children—that is, how feminine boys become attracted to other, more masculine boys (Bem, 1996).
But what if a child has little identification with either sex? Would this child become bisexual, as both sexes would seem different and exotic? Or, rather, would a child’s dis-identification with both sexes create, at least in some, an ambivalence to both and a sexual disinterest in all people later in life (i.e., asexuality)? This is an intriguing question and perhaps worth pursuing in future research. However, it is important to keep in mind that Bem’s theory, even as it applies to typical sexual orientation development, is controversial and lacks direct support. Moreover, it is also important to remember that the causal relationships among these variables could be viewed in the reverse direction: one’s attractions may cause the degree to which we identify with our own sex. So, if some asexual people do not identify as male or female, it may be because their lack of sexual attraction makes them feel like they have little in common (or dis-identify) with being male or female, not the other way around. Moreover, in line with this reasoning, as I suggested above, some women’s lack of sexual attraction may make them less “feminine,” because they are not as socialized to be an object of desire.
Summary
Sex and gender are complex constructs, but they are useful in understanding asexuality. Gender differences in asexuality seem to parallel gender differences in sexuality (e.g., masturbation). We do not know whether asexual people conform to traditional gender roles, although I speculate that asexual people are, on average, less conforming (e.g., asexual women have less object-of-desire self-consciousness). There is a strong suggestion in the current literature that many asexual people do not identify as male or female. The degree to which gender roles and gender identity play a causal role in the sexuality of asexual people is unknown, as is the degree to which asexuality plays a causal role in their gender roles and identities. Finally, I hope you see how exploring asexuality helps us to understand, or at least consider, the complexity of sexuality and the different ways it plays out in men and women. For example, we learn more about that mystery of mysteries—the nature of women’s sexuality, particularly the purpose of their non-category-specific responses—by including asexual women in the mix. And who knows—perhaps soon we may even be able to answer Freud’s famous query on the nature of women’s desires. However, even if we aren’t able to answer this question, there is a still a wealth of knowledge to be discovered by exploring the intersection of sex, gender, and asexuality.
CHAPTER 7
Forging an (A)sexual Identity
There is an Australian children’s book called Miss Lily’s Fabulous Pink Feather Boa. It is about a cute but nearly extinct marsupial, a long-nosed potoroo, trying to locate its place in the world. By the end of the book, the little potoroo discovers—to both its and sympathetic readers’ relief—that it is not alone: there is a small band of its kind, with whom it forges lasting and meaningful relationships (Wild & Argent, 1998).
Throughout much of the book, the potoroo wears a pink, feathered boa, which it claims from the eccentric Miss Lily. This rather odd but endearing affectation made me wonder if this book, aside from its main lessons in environmentalism and how to stick it out if you are indeed a lonely little potoroo, is offering another, more subtle message. I wonder if it is meant in an allegorical way to represent the solitary existence and ultimately the “coming out” experience of sexual minorities—particularly gay men, some of whom, of course, have similarly fabulous affectations (Rieger, Linsenmeier, Gygax, & Bailey, 2008).
If you are a heterosexual person, imagine that you are the only one in your school, or at work, or in your extended family who has these attractions to the other sex. All others are attracted to the same sex, or attracted to no one. How would you feel? Perhaps like the little potoroo?
In this chapter, I discuss sexual identity formation—both in sexual people and, in particular, in asexual people. Let’s begin by addressing a fundamental question: Why is a sexual identity important to people in the first place? Why does a person need to locate, psychologically speaking, his or her sexual self, and perhaps express it, even publicly?
This is not just an interesting question for academic types like me; it is a curious, even burning, question in many laypeople’s minds. Some heterosexual people, for example, wonder why gays and lesbians have to “go flaunting their sexualities” all over the place in gay pride festivities. Perhaps there is an implied homophobia to such statements from heterosexual people (i.e., they do not want to be exposed to a sexuality they don’t like or are uncomfortable with). Yet I also expect that some heterosexual people just truly wonder what all the fuss is about, because they, as heterosexual people, don’t have a parade announcing their sexuality.
Similarly, Dan Savage, an outspoken sex columnist (is there any other kind?), has questioned the need for asexual people to assert their identity, at least within a public sphere (Chevigny, Davenport, Pinder, & Tucker, 2011). He argues that it is clear why gays and lesbians, for example, need to assert their identity in a public sphere. Public announcements and displays of sexual identity are important so that sexual minorities, such as gay men, can claim the right to engage in, in his words, ahem, “cock sucking.” Well, what if you are asexual? If you are not engaging in potentially prohibited behavior (e.g., fellatio among men) and thus do not need public acceptance (or at least tolerance) of it, why go out and make public displays of your identity, or demonstrate in a parade or a public march? After all, no one cares that you are not having sex, and no one will put you in jail for not having sex. So, what is all the fuss about? Just stay at home when the next gay parade rolls around.
Dan Savage has a point here, and his argument goes some way in answering the above-mentioned query from some heterosexual people about why lesbians and gays go about “flaunting their sexualities” at gay pride parades: they need to achieve acceptance and recognition for potentially prohibited behaviors. Interestingly, this view—that public displays of identity are particularly important for gays and lesbians and perhaps less so for asexuals—is probably not lost, at least on some level, on many asexual people. So while some asexual people do march and assert their identities publicly (Childs, 2009, January 16), I expect that a large number of asexuals quietly go about their lives without ever signing on to a chat-line or a website devoted to asexual issues, let alone joining a march devoted to sexual minorities.