#taaap

Upon hearing that the topic for the first Carnival of Aros was to be a joint endeavor with the Carnival of Aces about the relationship between the two communities, I was equal parts thrilled and apprehensive. To me, this topic seems both incredibly self-aware and timely and yet also a bit tone-deaf. The call for submissions describes the relationship between the ace community and the rapidly growing aro community as having “growing pains”, and I frankly can not think of a better way to phrase that.

Because for me, reflecting on this topic brought on thoughts of a seemingly never-ending struggle that is both distant in the past and current, raw, and ongoing. For those who are unaware, the relationship between the ace and aro communities was the OG Discourse. Based on my own recollection and the confirmations of others, it was about 2014-2015 or so when the aro community was starting to stand on its own two feet and demand recognition as a separate entity from the ace community, particularly for alloaros, for whom being defined as ace was both inaccurate and incredibly alienating. As an aroace, the pain I felt during this time, as a baby aspec watching this unfold from a comfortable distance behind the relative safety of my computer screen, was a different kind of pain. I had only just come into my identity, and the aro and ace communities being cut completely apart was going to force me and other aroaces to choose. Before any of this could reach a reasonable, nuanced conclusion, the exclusionary discourse that we’re all unfortunately familiar with today started to crop up, and eventually took precedence.

But with both of our communities starting to rise up out of those ashes, particularly the aro community (which I’m substantially more active in), I can see this debate creeping up again. And frankly, in the years that have passed, some of the aro erasure I’ve seen from the ace community has made me extremely bitter. But I don’t want to talk about that, because I’ve talked about it enough, and quite honestly I’m tired of it. I don’t want to alienate myself from either of the communities that have given me the words to describe my experiences. My aro and ace identities are inseparable, and cutting all ties between our communities would absolutely devastate me. Our histories are intertwined, and in a relative post-discourse 2019 in which terms like aspec exist, I’ve decided to look towards a more hopeful future in which we can reach the kind of mutual understanding and solidarity that we never made it to before.

So what does that mean, ideally, for the future of the aspec community?

Firstly, aromanticism is not an ace umbrella identity. Alloaro friends of mine, upon hearing about the Carnival of Aros, expressed their apprehension at participating in an event that required them to describe their experiences in terms of the ace community. To them, as well as many aroaces I’ve spoken to, tying the first Carnival of Aros so heavily was tone-deaf and in some ways a reflection of the problem. A large portion of the aro community wants our arospec identities honored without being attached to the ace umbrella. The ace flag does not represent the aro identity the way it is sometimes used to represent acespec identities.

On a similar note, aspec means acespec AND arospec, not just acespec. I can’t tell you how many aro folks I’ve had tell me they had no idea the word aspec included them as well and wasn’t just shorthand for acespec.

In order for the ace and aro communities to truly reach a mutual understanding, it needs to be made clear that aces who are not aro cannot speak on aro issues, just as the reverse is true. Things that are relatable to alloromantic aces are often not relatable to aromantics, especially to alloaros.

It would be easy for me to spend my whole life griping about what’s wrong with the relationship between our communities, or lamenting the fact that I feel like I have to choose, or getting frustrated when things don’t go according to how I would like. Reflecting on this month’s topic, though, has led me to the realization that I am frankly exhausted. Being bitter is exhausting. I want to be hopeful. I want to reconcile my aro identity with the ace community and find a place in it again, like I found five years ago. So much of my aromantic experience has felt like a shout into a void that never answers. I just want the ace community to hear that voice and raise it up, instead of speaking over it.

My hopes for the future of the Carnival of Aros?

I hope it succeeds and one day grows to be as strong as the Carnival of Aces has been. I hope future topics are more inherently inclusive of alloaros, so that my friends no longer avoid participating for fear of coming across as overly negative (perhaps it would be a good idea to get some alloaro folks to host). The aspec community has been under constant pressure to defend ourselves with every breath for years, so of course we’re all hurting, especially when that pressure comes from within. It’s okay to be hurting, but we need to talk about it!

I’m choosing to be optimistic about the future of the aro community and our relationship with the ace community. We are, slowly but surely, stepping out of the shadow of the ace community and finding our own footing. Of course that is going to come with some growing pains, but that doesn’t mean things cannot change, it just means we have to open up the dialogue; things aren’t perfect and probably never will be, but things can change, they will change, they already are changing. The creation of the Carnival of Aros is just one step in that direction. It may not be perfect, but it’s still a step forward, and I applaud TAAAP for opening this dialogue.