I spent a long time feeling like I was passively absorbing information, and I always thought I was kind of empty-headed. I would see others having complex, interesting responses to books and shows and studies and things where I rarely did. I always enjoyed English class and analyzing literature and media, but I didn’t feel like I had all that much of interest that I could actually contribute to discissions, let alone salient advice to offer.
That’s finally started to shift.
At some point I absorbed enough information, processed my thoughts, and started to actually form my own complex opinions on things? But, like, I started in my 30’s. It feels a little delayed, to me. Some of that is absolutely due to being autistic: being informed, either directly and intentionally or otherwise, by my peers and authority figures so often during my childhood that I was doing things wrong and needed to be different really slowed the whole process. It hindered my trust in myself, and made me wary of offering my thoughts and opinions because they so rarely seemed to line up with anyone else’s, and I was really tired of being seen as an unrelatable freak.
I’ve spent the last six months slowly working my way through a book: Who’s Been Sleeping In Your Head? It’s a huge analysis of data collected from a study where the author conducted interviews about sexual fantasy. I think this is an incredibly important area of research, especially right now, with so much backsliding into Puritanical thinking and views, and the rapid decline in critical thinking because of the disastrous cuts being made to education, and the introduction of so-called generative “AI.” This book really challenges the average person’s perception of what a “normal” individual fantastizes about, what’s “typical” vs “outlandish.” Basically the bottom line of the study, I think, is that people are not unusual for having whatever weird or fucked up sexual fantasy they have. It’s often rooted in formative experiences, and is very commonly your brain’s creative way of processing something that happened to you, recontextualizing it to be pleasurable instead of harmful, and almost never something to actually be concerned about, or ashamed of, except in rare cases, and in those cases there are often other important contributing factors.
So it’s very interesting to walk away from this book feeling like a bit of a freak! Because that’s exactly the result the book was intended to eliminate, I suspect. I’ve somehow managed to dodge falling into a single category described within, because I am asexual, and don’t really have much in the way of sexual fantasies. At least, not with any kind of consistency, and certainly nothing I can connect to any childhood trauma or unpleasant experiences.
I seem to be an outlier, yet again; I was not abused or tormented as a kid in any way that I can remember, other than the ways I was outcast by my classmates for being autistic. But I also didn’t really think about sex much at all until my 20s, and even then, I myself have rarely been a participant in those thoughts. I’ve always fantastized about fiction, and fictional characters, because I have no interest in being involved myself.
I’ve often wondered if I qualify as a “sex-repulsed” asexual, despite finding much enjoyment in sex within the realm of fiction and fantasy. The moment I myself am involved, however, I tend to become less interested, and, sometimes, even uncomfortable.
There were not many accounts in the book that described a lack of fantasy, except in situations where the interviewee was holding back a story they were not yet comfortable enough to share. It was suggested that 9 in 10 people have these kinds of sexual fantasies, many of which might seem troubling at first, and the ratio might be even higher. I suppose that lines up with something like 1 to 3% of the population being asexual, but it really stands out to me that none of the anecdotes in the entire book sound like someone with an identity under the asexual umbrella. Even the “I only think about my partner” responses always sounded to me like a statement of asserting loyalty, as opposed to a lack of interest. I suppose a few of the “can’t think of a response, not turned on” answers might qualify? But there’s certainly not enough evidence to be sure. Of course, the whole study was about sexual fantasy, so it’s possible that a good number of aces excluded themselves from the survey, assuming they were not the intended participants. And yet, there were plenty of responses that amounted to “that’s private! I’m not going to tell you,” which also seems like something that would dissuade a person from participating in the study in the first place.
I think we still have a long way to go as a society when it comes to addressing compulsory sexuality, amatonormativity, and allonormativity. I have… a great many thoughts on that, which I won’t get into because I’d be here for ages. And I haven’t quite figured out what they are yet beyond “we need to talk about it,” either. Also I added a book to my list that I definitely need to read before I can really get my thoughts organized, I suspect (Refusing Compulsory Sexuality by Sherronda J Brown).
I also watched a movie recently: Selah and the Spades. (Major spoiler alert incoming!!) I’d heard about it because it has an asexual character, and I’m always on the lookout for ace characters, so of course I wanted to see it for myself. And in this one, the ace character is the protagonist, and she’s black! So there’s a lot of interesting layers to it. Unfortunately, she is also very much a villainous character, who is manipulative and controlling, and it’s definitely implied that her asexuality is part of the motivation for her manipulations, which plays into SO MANY bad ace stereotypes. Soulless robots who don’t feel empathy, etc. So I have extremely mixed feelings on this movie, and they are multiplied by this study, which completely lacks any kind of representation or mention of an asexual or aromantic perspective.
It’s exhausting feeling like you’re always left out of the conversation, or the last to be considered, either for your neurodivergency, your disabilities, your gender, or your sexuality. Sometimes a 4-in-one combo.
But, overall, I would definitely prefer to recognize these things and try to spark discussions on them, rather than continue as I used to, passively absorbing, not having any opinions on the matter, and not sharing them even when I do.
I am not a mindless automaton who doesn’t experience empathy, and I refuse to stop thinking critically.