#allaro

The oddity of being on the Aro-Ace Spectrum as told through Fandom interaction.

“You just haven’t found the right person.”

“One day it’ll hit you over the head, and a boy will sweep you off your feet.”

“Why aren’t you dating yet? You’re twenty now.”

-

“Character A can still have sex because Asexuals can still have sex!”

“It’s homophobic to head-canon that character as Aromantic.”

-

I learned of the term “asexual” when I was in the 7th grade. I was 11 years old, almost 12. Prior to this, and even after, I was the weird little girl on the playground. I match-made my friends, but was terrified of confessions. I very quickly decided I didn’t like boys, and by fifth grade was talking to the only lesbian in the school with as many questions I could muster.

She didn’t have any answers for me.

I hopped from label to label. Bisexual because men and women were the same in my eyes. Pansexual because I actually didn’t care about the gender of my partner at all.

Then that 7th grade choir class rolled around.

I no longer know their name (they’ve changed it so much since then), but they were in the girl’s choir with me, the only other alto with a passable alto range. I called them Mom. They asked who my dad would be since they were Ace.

A lot of things clicked for me that day.

I, like many other 12 year old girls, had already delved into the world of fandom. I’d read raunchy werewolf wattpad novels unbothered and brought my kindle to English to read bey-blade fanfiction during quiet time with a straight face. Slowly, I came to understand that I was different.

“I think this character would be Ace! Because that’s neat.”

“But I like them in this gay ship-”

“Me too- but like, take out the sex part.”

“Why?????”

They didn’t understand it very well. I don’t think I really did either. But we tried. I still put on the charade of having crushes and finding people hot, and we had fun the way preteen girls did: Putting our Blorbos through the Horrors™.

While my friends IRL had been my first introductions to fandom spaces, it was really only after joining Tumblr and Archive of Our Own that I felt understood in my experiences.

While my friends prolifically gushed over and recommended Dramoine and Percabeth smut to me, I found myself drawn to other topics. I was knee-deep in Trash of the Count’s Family at the time; a Korean webnovel centering a very tired, scheming protagonist who just wanted to retire already but couldn’t stop solving the world’s problems because they bothered his kids. The novel itself had no romances in it, and while the usual shipping could be seen in the fandom, the MC had become a bit of an Asexual and Aromantic icon— and I loved it.

This was a character who’s goal in life wasn’t romance, but some peace and quiet with the people he dearly cared for. He had adopted at least three kids only thirty chapters in, and had a plethora of people around him that acted as a social support system and a close knit family.

And I wasn’t the only person who saw that.

Through this character, I saw myself, the life I wanted, and I saw other people! Others in fandom who identified as Ace or Aro, others who taught me more on the nuance of being, and how to describe the absence of a feeling— those who didn’t parrot back “You’ll find someone someday.”

I found community and understanding in this small space.

“sex isn’t actually real they made it up for ao3” - aropride on Tumblr, archived by ace-culture-is

“Warrior Cats Kid TM aroace culture is having just always been the medicine cat” - anonymous on Tumblr, archived by aro-culture-is “”love is what makes us human” actually it’s ‘select all images with boat’ but go off I guess” - negativepeanuthoarder on Tumblr

We were silly, and got to simply exist. Little blogs began to pop up in my mutual’s reblogs— confessions, counter-arguments, complaints about the behavior of those in their real lives:

“Aroace culture is being afraid of “the one”, the fear of becoming “normal” and being doomed to an allonormative life just because some random person on the street will suddenly change your entire orientation to something you are repulsed by.” - anonymous on Tumblr, archived by aroace-culture-is “aro culture is becoming extremely terrified and uncomfortable when you realize somebody has a crush on you (come on man i was just treating you like a human being)” - anonymous on Tumblr, archived by aro-culture-is

While it’s taken me a very long time to even think about this, but there can still be so many differences from one queer person to the next, myself included. From spending time interacting in these spaces to seeing other’s worries or experiences, I still never really sat down to analyze my own. Nor did I ever stumble across someone able to describe “what kind of Aro/Ace are you?”

Some Aces and Aros are repulsed by sex and/or romance. Others are neutral to it. Some only enjoy it in fictional context. Others are perfectly fine to enact those relationships or similar concepts in their real lives.

I have always had a complicated relationship with smut and romance in fiction. Not because I was repulsed, but because it felt like just another genre. It was nothing special. The same joy I get from Found Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I could get from reading an explicit Getting Together fic or novel.

It is now that I’ve come to realize that’s because it isn’t any different for me. Regardless of content, my joy in fandom spaces is derived from well written versions of my favorite characters, whether their relationships be platonic, romantic, sexual, or familial. It is simply another form of entertainment for me.

I don’t think I’ve ever met another Aro/Ace person describe their relationship with fandom and sexuality this way, but I think it’s most accurate for me.

In fact, I often find myself “craving” a variety of genres and tropes related to my favorites. Sometimes I want soul crushing angst, other times a more explicit romance.

In this sense, I am reminded of an article I read in high school from Steven King. I believe he once said we crave horror and the macabre, in part, because we are capable of feeling it at all. There are parts of the brain designed to handle and experience stress and fear as part of our physiology. In modern times, there aren’t too many extremes for the average teenage girl to experience, and so I found myself craving sadness in the form of angsty fic. Likewise, would it not also be the same for sexual and romantic content?

Just because I do not experience or want it in real life, doesn’t mean the muscles and functions of the brain are automatically and permanently deleted. Even if just for the exposure, or the dopamine hit from seeing my favorite characters in the Scenarios™, I think it may the closest thing I’ll ever have to an “answer.”

This essay may seem a bit of a jumble, but it truly did help me “answer” that question, and I hope by putting it out here, someone else may see a mirror in themselves the way I did with a novel protagonist. We may not be the same, but maybe I can provide a bit of insight.

I feel almost silly for writing all this, but I’ve been trying to dream big lately.