The thing is, the way their constructed arenât constants. Even growing up I watched them change. And in some cases, this is a very good thing. In others, Iâm watching people get thrown out of their own identity against their will.
Iâm going to talk about some of what I saw growing up, because itâs different than what I see now. This isnât nostalgia. This isnât âthose were the days.â This is, things were different, and while in some cases I think that the changes were positive, some people are getting thrown under the bus in the tendency to treat sexual (which includes romantic) organization/taxonomy as some sort of universal constant rather than what we used to understand ourselves and each other.
And this isnât ancient history. Iâm not that fucking old. Iâm 34. Some of you were alive when these things were the case.
When I grew up, heterosexual/homosexual/bisexual were explicitly not specifically sexual. âItâs not about sex!â was a battlecry. This was emphasized frequently as people would sit there trying to come up with some gotcha that meant that you couldnât be gay and a virgin at the same time. Or â and this is important: that you couldnât be queer if you werenât interested in sex. While itâs not necessarily the same as explicitly affirming asexuality, this was a way in which the asexual experience was made intelligible under the mainstream organization of sexuality.
There was a lot of rhetoric that emphasized this point. In particular, that the fixation on the sexual part of homo/bi-sexuality was actually a form of heterocentrism in which hets would try to strip queers of the capability for romantic attraction.
Yes, there are problems there. Yes, thereâs the privileging of romantic attraction as better and more pure than sexual. And itâs worth talking about. But thatâs not what Iâm getting at right now.
What I am getting at, is that in the models I grew up with, among the queers I grew up around, both aro and ace people could qualify as not just bi, but bisexual. Or any other sexual orientation, really.
And I mean explicitly qualify under the relevant heading:
There was a 2 (or more?) point kinsey-like scale used among me and my queer friends in HS. It had a numerical range which translated to homo->bi->het.* One scale was sexual, or âWho do you want to sleep with?â. Another other was romantic, or âWho do you want to marry/date?â. (The third, if it existed â and I feel like a third did â might have been aesthetic. Possibly âWho do you think looks hot?â)
If you were in the middle for either/any of them, you qualified as bisexual. It was even theorized that if you were on opposite ends, for example, if you had exclusively homosexual romantic attraction** with exclusively hetosexual sexual attraction then you were probably bi, although you could also probably identify along the lines of the attraction that was most significant to you. Null values on a scale just meant that that particular scale wasnât relevant. Move on to the next one.
Which does present a problem with aroace people. Where would they fit? If Iâm right about the third scale being aesthetic, probably according to aesthetic attraction, as itâd be the last one left, and take priority. But I canât remember that part clearly, and anyway, the point isnât about the model being perfect. There are good things about the shifts, both in what it allows us to articulate insofar as experiences, and how it allows us to mobilize.
And, really, thatâs the important part. The ability to articulate lived experiences, and in the case of sexual/romantic minorities, organize and mobilize under.
So, hereâs the million dollar question:
During a time in which being aro or ace (or aroace) was even less intelligible to the mainstream â or even the mainstream queer community â than it is now, where were the ace and aro bi people? Where did they organize under when trying to deal with monosexism? Where did they vent their frustrations over LG exclusion? Where did they openly talk about their attractions? Who were they fighting alongside?
They were with the bisexuals.
It was vital, and necessary, and Iâm not about to throw them out now. Seriously? Weâre supposed to ditch them after all that?
And to be clear, this is not about abandoning aro-ace terminology â itâs also vital and necessary. For organizing. For articulating experiences. For support.
So thatâs the thing about how we taxonomize âsexuality.â It changes â and pretty quickly â just through common usage. Â It always has. Itâs changing now, and we have a choice about the direction we want to push it. Not by putting up charts and graphs about who gets to be what, but just in how we use the terms. Who we, individually, include and exclude.
So hereâs the deal for me:*** If you identify as bi, and you feel comfortable under the heading of bisexual, Iâm not going to kick you out just because youâre not sexually-bi. Iâm also not going to shame you out  to keep our âgood nameâ if youâre aro-bi. And if youâre aro-ace, but identify as bi? Iâm not about to throw you under the bus either.
You donât have to identify as bisexual, but imo, that door shouldnât be closed. Doing that can be devastating to anyone who before now found solace and support there.
*It was a STEM magnet school. We were a bit nerdy like that.
**Does that sound weird now? Kinda my point re: different taxonomy and meanings.
***and Iâve talked with you in specific about this, but I feel like saying this is in generalâŚ