“Asexual does not mean you are broken, a freak, or unable to love”
A sociological study on self-identified asexuals in the Netherlands
Name: Mélanie Hessels Student number: 10187987
Date: 4 May 2018
First supervisor: Dr. Marie-Louise Janssen Second supervisor: Dr. Paul Mepschen
Graduate School of Social Sciences University of Amsterdam (UvA)
Master Sociology: track ‘Gender, Sexuality, Society’ Thesis
F
oreword
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After an intensive period I can finally say I have reached the finish line. The things I have learned on a scientific and personal level turned out to be beyond my imagination. This thesis is dedicated to my participants: they shared their intimate life stories with me, with an openness I can only admire. Not only did I learn a lot about them, but they also challenged me to think about own personal experiences. This research gives them a deserved spot on the stage. I hope I have made you proud.
I wish to thank my supervisors dr. Marie-Louise Janssen and dr. Paul Mepschen for their support during this process. Especially Marie-Louise, thank you for your undivided time, support, advice, insights, enthusiasm and trust in me and my work. I am also eternally grateful for the support of my friends. Thanks to Megan, Max and Suzan, who took the time to read my work and checked my English grammar and text, you are amazing. Thank you Javier, we spent hours and hours of studying together in the dusty study carrells of the university library. Thank you for your undivided support and advice, keeping me sane when I was an emotional wreckage, and reading my work throughout this whole process. And Emma, you have given me so much insight on this topic, fruitful (late night) conversations, humour, love and support over the last six months, thank you. My
gratitude goes to all my other friends who always believed in me, even when I did not believe in myself.
And to my mother, who is the strongest woman I know and my biggest supporter. Because of her I was able to study at the University of Amsterdam and choose the education programmes that had my interest. I love you very much.
The pictures on the front page show the colors purple, grey, black and white that symbolise the asexual community. The photograph was taken on the Stockholm Pride in 2012, and symbolises the asexual flag carried by asexual individuals (Photo credit: Flickr user ‘trollhare’).
T
able of contents
Chapter 1: Introduction..….………5
Chapter 2: Methodology………..8
2.1 Qualitative Approach……….8
2.2 Introducing the Participants………….………..9
2.3 Conducting, Transcribing & Coding the Interviews………12
2.4 Limitations of Qualitative Research.………14
Chapter 3: Theoretical Framework……… 15
3.1 Introduction………….……….………15
3.2 Stigmatisation……….……….……….15
3.3 The Presentation of the Self.……….…….………..16
3.4 Heteronormativity……….…….………..16
3.5 Background Discussion………….……..………..17
3.6 Sexual Script theory……….…….………18
Chapter 4: Asexuality 101……….19
4.1 Introduction……….………19
4.2 The Asexual Spectrum….…….………..……….19
4.3 What causes Asexuality?.………….….………23
4.4 Medical Discourse……….…………..……….…24
4.5 Masturbation, Genital Arousal & Porn…..………….……….26
4.6 Asexual Subjectivities……… ..27
4.7 Enter the Heteronormative Matrix………..28
4.8 Conclusion..………..30
Chapter 5: The Good, the Bad, and the Stigmatised………31
5.1 Introduction……….……….……….……31
5.2 Experiencing Stigma……….……….31
5.3 Dehumanisation and Self-Stigma…..….…….……….….34
5.4 Sexual Education…..……….………..………..35
5.6 LGBT+ Community..………38
5.7 Conclusion.……..…..………….……….………..39
Chapter 6: “I identify, therefore I am”………40
6.1 Introduction………….……….……….40
6.2 Coming out as Asexual.……….40
6.3 Motivations to Come Out……….……..…….………..43
6.4 Importance of an Asexual Identity……..………..45
6.5 Representations & Visibility…..……….46
6.6 Conclusion..……..………….………48
Chapter 7: From Asexuals, with love………49
7.1 Introduction.……….……….….….………..…..49
7.2 “I am attracted to others.. in a non-sexual way”….…………..………..49
7.3 Romantic Relationships……….……….……….53
7.4 Aromantic Relationships..………..…..………54
7.5 Conclusion..….………..…..……..………..55
Chapter 8: Final Conclusion….………56
References………59
Summary……….……….………66
Appendix 1: Interview Guide……….………..67
1
Introduction
———————————————————————————————————————— “Thinking is my fighting” Virginia Woolf (1941: 28)The moment has arrived. The finish line of my master’s degree at the University of Amsterdam, my master thesis. For as long as I can remember, I have always tried to find sociological and
anthropological topics that my education glossed over, and to create more visibility and a correct representation for these topics. My interest for this research was sparked when I read about different sexual orientations in a sociological article. It mentioned that one can be attracted to men, women, both, all genders, or none. Then I realised I knew little to nothing about asexuality, only what I (wrongly) perceived as the truth.
The key concept of this thesis is asexuality. As Canadian psychologist Antony Bogaert says: “An asexual individual is defined as a person with a lack of sexual attraction towards
others” (Bogaert 2004: 279). Additionally, asexuality is considered the fourth sexual orientation, 1
next to homosexuality, bisexuality and heterosexuality (ibid.). As asexuals lack an experience, my research participant Stefan, who identifies as ‘aromantic asexual’, addressed the challenge: “How could I know for certain I experience something or not?”. As there is little research on
representation and visibility of asexuality, many people are unaware of the existence of asexuality. This has to do with the prominent place of sexuality in society, especially in the Western world. Advertisements, media, books, the Internet, institutions, conversations: all create the belief that every single individual engages in and enjoys sexuality to a great extent (Przybylo 2014: 239). Thus if this is not the case, there is ‘trouble ahead’. Asexuals are perceived as ‘not entirely human’, sexually repressed, unable to experience love towards others, covertly gay, lesbian or bi, or they are ‘going through a phase’. Consequently, asexual individuals often experience misunderstanding, pathalogisation and stigmatisation, and asexuality as a valid identity remains under-researched. Nevertheless, academic interest in asexuality has increased over the last decade, beginning with the Canadian psychologist Antony Bogaert (2004) who argued that between 1 % and 6 % of the world population experiences a lack of sexual attraction towards others (Bogaert 2004: 181). A substantial body of research on asexuality has covered asexuality’s conceptualisation (Brotto et al. 2011 ; Prause & Graham 2007 ; Bogaert 2012), the formation of asexual identities (Scherrer 2008 ;
When this research mentions asexuals or the participants involved, it refers explicitly to self-identified asexuals: people
1
who identified themselves as asexual. From now on I will continue with using the word asexual instead of self-identified asexual. Second, when I use the word ‘sex’ in this research, I speak about sexual activities (e.g. coital sex and oral sex).
Chasin 2011 ; MacNeela & Murphy 2015 ; Gressgård 2013 ; Scott & Dawson 2015), the difference between subjective and genital sexual arousal in asexuals (Chivers et al. 2010 ; Yule & Brotto 2016), the intersection of asexuality and disability (Cuthbert 2015), a qualitative study on male asexuals (Przybylo 2014) and female asexuals (Van Houdenhove et al. 2015).
Although the research mentioned above touched upon the topic of asexuality, it is not yet thoroughly investigated. Furthermore, most of the existing research was derived from the United States, carried out by academics with a psychological, biological or sexuological background, managing a quantitative approach. From a sociological perspective, my qualitative research based in the Netherlands could add new insights to this field. The theoretical framework will consist of two works by sociologist Erving Goffman, who studied the presentation of the self (1959) and stigma (1963), along with the sexual script theory (1973) developed by sociologists John H. Gagnon & William Simon.
This research is relevant as most (if not all) asexuals struggle with heteronormative discourses, and therefore also discourses of sexuality and relationships, that are continuously reproduced within societies. Secondly, asexual individuals who are involved in relationships could experience distress because of the stigma, prejudice surrounding asexuality and expectations of others (Chasin 2011: 722). Finally, it sheds new light on how asexuals challenge and negotiate these discourses and notions of sexuality seen as heteronormative, compulsory, essential and ‘healthy’. When we research how asexuals negotiate these discourses, we can not only say something about asexuality, but also about the dominant discourses of heteronormativity and sexuality that are enbedded in our society.
When I do sociological research, my true passion lies at the documentation of people’s lives and experiences, because I am interested in how all humans carry a different set of values, culture, beliefs and attitudes that influence them and the people around them. So the choice was easy: I interviewed 12 asexual individuals who live in the Netherlands, and were willing to share their stories and struggles with me. There is great diversity in how asexuals experience their identity; therefore asexuals are no “single homogenous group” (Chasin 2011: 713). During the interviews I also found out more about my own sexual and romantic experiences and I could relate to some of my participant’s remarks. In this way my research is not only significant for educational purposes: it also carries a personal interest.
The aim of this thesis is to research how asexuals challenge and negotiate dominant ideas on sexuality, love and relationships through qualitative research, namely through the
interpretation of what my 12 participants told me. Therefore my research question is: How do
self-identified asexuals in the Netherlands challenge and cope with dominant discourses of heteronormativity, sexuality and relationships?
The first chapter, in which the results are presented, covers the asexual spectrum, the invention of asexuality as a valid orientation and the pathologisation and medicalisation of asexuality in the 20th century. I created the following sub-questions:
1) How can we understand asexuality and the asexual spectrum?
2) How can we interpret the history and former medicalisation and pathologisation of asexuality?
The second chapter focuses on coping mechanisms that are used by asexuals when dealing with social stigma and self-stigmatisation. This focus is covered into a sub-question:
3) How do self-identified asexuals deal with stigma and which coping strategies are used?
The third chapter refers to the formation of an asexual identity and furthermore, how an asexual identity could challenge heteronormative practices and institutions. The sub-question for this chapter is:
4) How do self-identified asexuals experience and define their own asexuality and identity to others? Finally, the last chapter sheds light on how asexual participants form and negotiate romantic,
aromantic, sexual and/or platonic relationships, using the following sub-questions: 5) In what manner do self-identified asexuals define and negotiate their relationships?
6) How do romantic self-identified asexual define intimacy in their relationships and what does it mean to those who do not associate it with sexual attraction?
My main argument is that I believe the definition of psychologist Antony Bogaert gives of asexuality, namely a lack of sexual attraction (Bogaert 2004), is too simplistic. Asexuals are not a homogenous group, as they all define their asexuality in different ways. They make sense of their relationships through the use of new terminology and often asexuals make a distinction between romantic and sexual attraction. Furthermore, this research will show that by challenging discourses of heteronormativity, sexuality and relationships, asexuals continue to get stigmatised and
pathologised, which causes distress and feelings of invalidation. With this argument in mind I will move on to the methods I incorporated in this research.
2
Methodology
———————————————————————————————————————— This methodology section will discuss the qualitative methods I chose to incorporate in my research. It shows my search for the research group and how I gained access, along with the process of
conducting in-depth interviews, transcribing, coding and carrying out the analysis. Finally, this section will address the limitations of performing qualitative research.
2.1 Qualitative approach
Qualitative research makes it possible to interpret the social world from the perspective of one’s research group, and it is necessary to “participate in the mind of another human being” to gain new social insights and knowledge (Bryman 2012: 385). The reason that I chose a qualitative approach is the lack of available qualitative research on the subject of asexuality, and I felt the need to
document and understand asexuality through the eyes of the people I studied.
The data collection for this qualitative research was carried out from October 2017 until the end of December 2017, which consisted of conducting 12 in-depth, semi-structured interviews in the Netherlands. As the degree to which researchers can adopt their research group’s worldview is often limited, most qualitative researchers prefer unstructured and semi-structured interviews over structured interviews. In this way a researcher avoids the delimitation of exploring all possible research areas (ibid.: 389). In other words, my interviews remained flexible and I used an interview guide with relevant questions to support the course of the interviews (Bryman 2012: 438). The process of conducting the interviews will be carefully discussed in section 2.3. I also read, watched and listened to documentaries, podcasts, interviews, YouTube content, TV shows and internet sites that illustrated the topic of asexuality.
The access to most of my participants was through the access of the Dutch AVEN forum. 2
Firstly, I created an account and started reading various stories of members about their asexuality. Then I opened a topic which discussed (a part of) my research purposes and if there were self-identified asexuals who were willing to participate in an interview. My only requirement was that participants identified as asexual. Unexpectedly, my participants differed a great deal in terms of age, place of birth, gender, life history, and how they defined their (lack of) romantic and sexual attraction. Although participant Lars did not necessarily identify as asexual, he could relate to certain experiences and feelings that were part of the asexual spectrum. Within a short amount of time I received messages from nine self-identified asexuals, who contacted me by e-mail or a private
http://du.asexuality.org/index.php
message on the AVEN forum. Two participants were friends of mine, and one remaining participant responded to a Facebook message that mentioned my call for self-identified asexual participants. Finally, I had no participatory opportunity to join an AVEN meeting, in which members of the AVEN forum come together for an event, or meet one another and have conversations about asexuality and other issues.
2.2 Introducing the participants
This section covers short biographies of my 12 participants, which readers can refer to when the data section discusses the participants. Furthermore, an overview of relevant information about my participants can be found in figure 1 on page 12. As my 12 participants carry the framework of my research on asexuality, it is important to shortly introduce them to the reader. I will discuss them in alphabethical order. The names I used are pseudonyms for confidential concerns. It has to be said that many participants mentioned they were aware of their asexuality from a young age, yet
unaware of the existence of asexuality. Most participants mentioned emotional closeness as the most important aspect of an ideal (a)romantic relationship, which I will discuss thoroughly in the data section.
1) Anna is a Dutch 24 year-old cis female. Anna found out about her asexuality at the age of 22, and identifies as panromantic asexual: she experiences romantic attraction to individuals regardless of their gender. Her ideal relationship should be completely platonic, as Anna is not fond of physical touch by others (and is sex-repulsed). Anna is currently not involved in a romantic relationship. Finally, Anna contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum.
2) Christine is a Dutch 38-year-old non-binary individual. Christine does not identify with a male
nor female gender identity and the preferred pronounces are them/they. Christine found out about their asexuality at the age of 33, and identifies as homoromantic asexual, which means the
experience of romantic attraction towards women. Christine is not involved in a romantic
relationship at the moment. Christine enjoys physical touch in an ideal relationship, but no sex (and is sex-repulsed). They are also co-founder of the website ‘Werkgroep Aseksualiteit’ (working group asexuality) which provides information on asexuality, and told their asexual story in the media multiple times. Lastly, Christine contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum, and functions also as a moderator on this forum.
3) Daniëlle is a Dutch 48-year-old cis female. She found out about her asexuality at the age of 41 and identifies as heteroromantic asexual: the experience of romantic attraction towards men.
Daniëlle enjoys physical touch in a relationship, such as cuddling and kissing (without tongue), but has doubts about sexual activities. She is currently not involved in a romantic relationship, although she has two children from her first marriage who live with her in Goes. Daniëlle contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum, and she is an active member of the website.
4) Lars is a Dutch 28-year-old cis male. Lars mentioned he feels romantically attracted to women, but he was reluctant to identify himself as asexual. In other words, Lars is unsure if what he experiences is considered sexual attraction or not. Therefore he is not labelled as asexual in this research, but I will discuss Lars’ experiences as he could relate to the asexual spectrum in some situations. Lars enjoys physical contact in a relationship, but is unsure if sex has to play an essential part in one. Lastly, Lars is not in a current romantic relationship and contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum, where he is an active member.
5) Liz is a Dutch 26-year-old cis female. Liz found out about her greysexuality at the age of 22 and identifies as heteroromantic greysexual: she experiences romantic attraction towards men, but feels sexual attraction only on a very rare occasion. She enjoys physical contact such as cuddling and kissing, and usually does not mind sexual activity with someone she feels a strong connection to. Nevertheless, sex should not be the most important aspect of her relationship. She is currently not involved in a romantic relationship. Finally, Liz contacted me by e-mail and mentioned she read a call for this research in a Facebook group.
6) Max is a Dutch 17-year-old cis male. Max found out about his asexuality at the age of 16, and identifies as heteroromantic asexual: he experiences romantic attraction towards women. He does not enjoy physical contact, although he mentioned that it is easier for a woman to touch him if he feels romantically attracted to her. Finally, Max is currently not in a romantic relationship and contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum.
7) Noa is a Dutch 30-year-old cis female. Noa found out about her asexuality at the age of 24 and identifies as aromantic asexual: she experiences neither romantic nor sexual attraction towards anyone. Noa feels uncomfortable with physical contact and prefers her ideal relationship to be completely platonic. Noa is currently not involved in a relationship. Lastly, I asked Noa to participate in this research, since we are friends and I was aware of her asexual identity.
8) Pascalle is a Dutch 26-year-old cis female. She found out about her asexuality at the age of 23 and identifies as heteroromantic asexual: Pascalle experiences romantic attraction towards men. She has
been involved in a relationship with a heterosexual man for two years, and lives together with him. Pascalle enjoys physical contact in her relationship such as cuddling, massages and kissing.
Furthermore, she engages in sex, mainly for her boyfriend who enjoys them. However she never feels pressure from him and they communicate in an effective way about these matters. Finally, Pascalle contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum.
9) Roos is a Dutch 24-year-old cis female. Roos has identified as heteroromantic asexual since the age of 24, and thus experiences romantic attraction towards men. Roos has been involved in a relationship with a heterosexual man for a couple of weeks. During the time of our interview she has not engaged in sexual activity yet. For Roos physical contact such as kissing and cuddling is very important, and she believes that sex should only be introduced in a relationship when if feels
comfortable and with effective communication and consent. Lastly, I asked Roos to participate in this research since we are friends and I was aware of her identifying as asexual.
10) Stefan is a Dutch 39-year-old cis male. Stefan found out about his asexuality at the age of 34 and identifies as aromantic asexual: he experiences neither sexual nor romantic attraction towards anyone. Stefan would prefer his relationships to be completely platonic and does not feel
comfortable with (most) physical contact. Stefan is currently not involved in a relationship, and reached me through the Dutch AVEN forum, where he functions as active member and moderator.
11) Willem is a Dutch 55-year-old cis male. Willem found out about his asexuality at the age of 50 and identifies as homoromantic asexual, since Willem feels romantically attracted to other men. Willem enjoys physical contact in a romantic relationship, and also believes that other forms of physical contact (cuddling, holding hands, eye contact) are far more intimate than sexual activities. He is currently not involved in a romantic relationship. Lastly, Willem contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum, and is also an active member and moderator of this forum.
12) Yanna is a Dutch 20-year-old cis female. Yanna found out about her asexuality around the age of 19 and identifies as aromantic asexual, and therefore experiences no sexual or romantic
attraction towards others. Yanna feels uncomfortable with physical contact and prefers her ideal relationship to be platonic. She is currently not involved in a relationship and reached out to me through the Dutch AVEN forum.
Figure 1: An overview of my participants’ characteristics. 2.3 Conducting, Transcribing and Coding the interviews
All 12 participants were interviewed in a city or town situated in the Netherlands. From the
beginning I made sure that we chose a location for the interview that was most comfortable for the participant. Eight of the interviews were held in a public space, two interviews were conducted in my own house, and the remaining two interviews were located in the participants’ living space. As I did not know most of my participants and was unsure how the interviews would go, I felt slightly nervous before the meetings. One of my strategies was to chat informally for five to ten minutes prior to the interview. In this way I created a comfortable setting, freed up the communication, and ‘broke the ice’ (Bryman 2012: 212).
Participants were told that their data and possible sensitive information remained
confidential, that I would use pseudonyms in this research, and I asked them permission to record the interview with a mobile device. Furthermore, I mentioned it was allowed to leave a question
Max 17 heteroromantic asexual male
Yanna 20 aromantic asexual female
Anna 24 heteroromantic asexual female Roos 24 heteroromantic asexual female
Liz 26 heteroromantic
greysexual female Pascalle 26 heteroromantic asexual female
Lars 28 heteroromantic, did not
identify as asexual male
Noa 30 aromantic asexual female
Christine 38 homoromantic asexual non-binary
Stefan 39 aromantic asexual male
Daniëlle 48 heteroromantic asexual female Martin 55 homoromantic asexual male
unanswered and if they would have questions or concerns during our interview they could always address them. The interviews lasted approximately 35 to 80 minutes, and were all held in Dutch. Additionally, in the public spaces it was important to choose a spot that was quiet enough to hear the recording of the interview, and to prevent ‘outsiders’ from overhearing our conversation on sensitive topics concerning asexuality. However, it happened once that an interview, that was held in the quiet space of a cafe, got ‘intruded’ by other people who seated themselves at the table behind us. Suddenly I became self-conscious of the sensitivity of our conversation on asexuality, lowered my voice, and felt uncomfortable to continue in the same manner. In contrast, Christine mentioned their sister to join our interview, as the interview was held in Utrecht and they would attend a Veggie Fair together in that city later on. Soon it became clear that Christine’s sister was a valuable asset to the conversation: they were close, her sister had great knowledge about Christine’s asexuality, and was even considered the ‘final push’ in the realisation of Christine’s asexual identity. Furthermore, Christine’s sister only joined the conversation when Christine asked her for an explanation or if it enriched the topic.
As I used a flexible way of structuring the interviews, I created the possibility to dive deeper into specific topics and using follow-up questions if necessary. My interview guide included four indicators with questions about the ‘foundation’ of their asexuality, stigmatisation, relationships and general questions about how participants negotiated their asexuality in life. During the interview process I realised other questions that sparked the interest of this research, which I added to the interview guide. During the interviews I made sure to leave room for silence in the interviews. In this way I gave participants space to formulate one’s thoughts and sentences (Bryman 2012: 445).
Furthermore, the use of probing questions turned out to be valuable in this research, as I often asked participants to elaborate further on their arguments (e.g. ’Could you say something more about that?’) (ibid.: 446). When the interviews came to an end I stopped the recording and asked the participants how they felt about our conversation. In most cases we talked a bit longer and
participants asked me some questions in return in how I felt about the interview and my interest in the subject of asexuality. At our departure I thanked the participants for their time and effort and told them if they would have additional questions for me they could contact me by e-mail. Lastly, I gave them a chocolate bar as a small gesture.
The interviews were transcribed simultaneously, to remain ‘close’ to my data and reflect on my skills as an interviewer. My transcripts are written in Dutch and I did not transcribe ‘uhms’ and ‘ahs’ to maintain the readability of the transcripts. As this thesis is written in English, the excerpts used in this research’s data section were translated from Dutch. Finally, the transcripts were analysed without the help of a qualitative analysis programme, and done by hand. This way of working felt more natural to me and therefore I ‘unravelled’ my transcripts manually. My 12 transcripts were
categorised into different colours and I progressed to make up themes: the history and invention of asexuality, stigmatisation of asexuals, the formation of an asexual identity and asexual relationship formations.
2.7 Limitations Qualitative Research
This qualitative research has limitations in terms of reliability, generalisability and objectivity. Firstly, the derived data from my 12 conducted interviews is not representative for the whole asexual community. Furthermore, my participants were already willing to talk about their asexuality and address (possible) sensitive topics of sexual activity, stigmatisation, masturbation, porn and
relationship history. Also, nine participants contacted me through the Dutch AVEN forum, where I ‘easily’ gained access to Dutch asexuals relevant for this research, yet this decreased the variability of my research group. On the other hand, my participants differed a great deal in terms of age, place of birth, gender, life history, and how they defined their (lack of) romantic and sexual attraction towards others.
Secondly, qualitative research often lacks reliability as it is challenging to replicate a study. Qualitative data embodies a “strong sense of change and flux” in which the meanings and identities of the people studied could change over time (Bryman 2012: 388). Nevertheless, my interviews were semi-structured, as I tried to make sense of the ‘bigger picture’, in able to understand the
participant’s social world and their way of talking about specific topics (ibid.).
Finally, I am aware of my own position as a researcher within this framework. Qualitative research is often criticized for being too subjective, whereas interpretative research is considered to be biased (Bryman 2012: 391). Therefore, it is important for researchers to be aware that they are the ‘product’ of their own values, assumptions, past, social background and place of birth. The key to reflexivity is a “dialogue”: researchers need to challenge their assumptions of a studied
phenomenon, with their own values taken into account (Palaganas et al. 2017: 427). Before I discuss
3
Theoretical Framework
————————————————————————————
3.1 Introduction
This section will present the theoretical framework that will be used to support this research. Firstly, I will discuss two theoretical concepts created by sociologist Erving Goffman, namely the ones of stigmatisation (1963) and the dramaturgical presentation of the self (1959). Secondly, I will define the concept of heteronormativity, investigate the integration of Dutch heteronormative practices, and investigate the former and current sexual discourse in the Netherlands. Finally, I will address the sexual script theory (1973) developed by sociologists John H. Gagnon & William Simon.
3.2 Stigmatisation
“The normals and the stigmatised are not persons, but perspectives” (Goffman 1963: 28)
Stigma is seen as an individual’s characteristic that could be perceived as discrediting, according to Erving Goffman. When an individual ‘differs from the norm’, the negative judgment of others (‘the normals’) is almost inevitable. Even so, Goffman dissociated discredited from discreditable attributes. In other words, a descredited characteristic is known by a person or “evident on the spot”, and a discreditable characteristic is invisible for others (Goffman 1963: 3-4). In this case we could view asexuality as a discreditable characteristic, because a person’s asexuality is not directly visible. Asexuals are often aware of their attributed stigma and feel divergent from ‘the normals’. Sometimes this leads to self-stigma, where stigmatised individuals create and internalise the
perception of themselves as “socially unacceptable” or “inadequate”, what decreases their self-worth (Vogel et al. 2007: 41). Therefore, most asexuals develop coping mechanisms to deal with the stigma, such as joining asexual support groups or fora on the internet, turning to their ‘support network’ of friends and family, or the choice to disguise one’s asexuality in social situations.
Nevertheless, stigmas can change over time or vary within different societies and contexts. For example, asexuals will problably not feel stigmatised among other asexuals, as opposed to asexuals who are amidst a group of non-asexual people who think asexuals are ‘freaks’. Moreover, Goffman argued that all individuals get stigmatised in specific settings, times and/or contexts, which shows that stigmas are societal and integrated in social relations (Ritzer 2011: 376). The norms and values of a society decide which attributes get stigmatised and which not (Goffman 1963: 28).
3.3 The Presentation of the Self
Erving Goffman wrote a great deal on how individuals are able to ‘perform’ multiple roles when engaging in social interactions. Goffman followed the footsteps of his colleague Herbert Mead (1934), who created the concept of the ‘generalised other’: the self is always evaluated from the other’s point of view. Furthermore, individuals should be capable of taking the role as generalised other themselves, and in this way strengthen the community and cooperation within a society (Mead 1934: 158). Both sociologists were symbolic interactionists, believing that the capacity for thought is created by social interaction, and that individuals act reflectively towards their actions and speech (Ritzer 2011: 365). Therefore, the self is not static or unchangeable, but a dynamic entity.
Goffman’s approach differed from Mead in his development of a dramaturgical perspective of the self. He argued that the self is performed between the ‘actor and audience’ and thus the self “is a dramatic effect arising…from a scene that is presented” (Goffman 1959: 253). Furthermore, Goffman made a distinction between an actor’s “front stage and back stage”: the front stage is the performance of the ‘perfect’ sense of self, where the back stage functions as a place where people can ‘relax and be their true selves’ (ibid.: 69). Although individuals want to show a sense of self towards others that is acceptable and ‘normal’, this ‘performance’ on the front stage can be disrupted by others. To prevent this from happening individuals use techniques and coping mechanisms that are part of “impression management” (ibid.: 204). For example, imagine an asexual individual who disguised one’s asexuality amongst a group of people. If the asexual is asked about sexual experiences, the actor could use several techniques of impression management to maintain their sense of self known to that audience, for example to lie about one’s sexual experience or evade questions.
As most people strive to present themselves in the most idealistic way possible, it is likely that their performances are often “moulded” and confirming to society’s expectations (Goffman 1959: 52). For example, asexuals could present their performance as proud to be asexual, but conceal the fact it took them years of confusion, emotions and challenges to come to terms with their asexuality. Furthermore, asexuals often struggle with heteronormative practices in society, which will be
discussed in the next paragraph.
3.4 Heteronormativity
As the main question of this research investigates how asexuals re-write discourses of
heteronormativity, sexuality and relationships, it is important to define heteronormativity and its practices. I will use the definition created by philosopher and queer theorist Judith Butler, who argues that heteronormativity depends on a constant realisation of the belief and information that heterosexuality is performative, and the “origin and the ground” of all sexual identities (Butler 1993:
313). With “performativity”, Butler means the repetitive and consistent use of “acts, which are a shared experience and a collective action” (Butler 1988: 525). In other words, heterosexual norms are constantly replayed by the “social audience”, become performative and are supported by the gender binary that perceives men and women as different individuals (ibid.: 520). However, Butler argued it is impossible to live up to the ‘perfect’ heterosexual standard, and within this failure a resistance can flourish, for example in being homosexual, lesbian or asexual (Rahman & Jackson 2010: 128).
Heterosexuality circulates in everyday practices and interactions and its performativity often happens without realising it, as it is so “taken for granted” (Jackson 2006: 113). Therefore,
heterosexuality is dependent upon the marginalisation and exclusion of other sexual minorities for “its survival” (ibid.: 107). According to Monique Wittig, heterosexuality is an understudied
phenomenon in social science research because of its legitimisation, naturalisation and privilege in society, and therefore most of us inhabit a “straight mind” (Wittig 1980: 27). Examples of
performing heterosexuality is the value of marriage in society, viewing coital sex as the ‘true sex act’ and the idea that men and women vary in terms of sex and gender and ‘belong together’ (ibid.: 113-114). Asexuals often struggle with heteronormativity as they refuse the centralisation of sexuality in their relationships, and challenge the privilege of sexual relationships over platonic relationships (Gupta 2012). Furthermore, as asexuals deviate from the ‘idealised heterosexuals’, they reveal that the “heterosexual matrix” is a fiction in itself (Rahman & Jackson 2010: 128). As this research is situated in the Netherlands, the next paragraph will discuss the sexual discourse in the Netherlands and how heteronormativity is integrated in Dutch society.
3.5 Background Discussion
Laurens Buijs and colleagues (2011) argue that in the 18th and 19th century the opinions regarding to sex and gender fairly changed in Western countries. Sex and gender were now seen as coinciding constructs (Buijs et al. 2011: 646). Until the 1960s, the sexual discourse in the Netherlands kept a traditional view on sexuality, and there was little acceptance of pre-merital sex or discussing sex in the public sphere. Nevertheless, the sexual revolution and availability of the anticonception pill in the 1970s changed the opinion on sexuality in the Netherlands to a more liberal one (Schalet 2004: 44). Furthermore, Cas Wouters spoke of a Dutch “lust and love revival” from the 1990s and beyond, in which sexual activity is now perceived as part of a relationship. (Wouters 2010: 733). Therefore, in the Netherlands there exists an ‘expectation’ to desire an intimate, sexual and monogamous relationship (ibid.: 734).
As we have seen, the performance of heterosexuality has a “taken-for-granted feature”, which in turn generates heteronormativity: the unquestionable normalisation of heterosexuality in
society (Rahman & Jackson 2010: 128). Even with the Netherlands being the first country to legalise same-sex marriages in 2001 (Buijs et al. 2010: 633), the heterosexual relationship thus continued to function as the norm in Dutch society. Also, sociologist Amy Schalet speaks of a relationship-based sexuality in the Netherlands. In her research on adolescent sexuality of American and Dutch teenagers, she argues that Dutch parents use “relational, rather than individual or biological metaphors” to highlight their teenagers’ sexuality (Schalet 2004). Parents make the assumption 3
that their children will fall in love and start relationships eventually. Furthermore, Dutch parents use the word ‘gewoon’ to describe adolescent sexuality. Gewoon is the Dutch word for normal, which also has a “normative component, meaning that normal is, in fact, right” (ibid.). Language thus plays an essential role in creating our social reality. Especially using labels, which is an effective way of “co-constructing (…) other social categorisations”, and to dominate social meanings in society (Holmes & Meyerhoff 2003: 388). Therefore I argue that asexuals often feel ‘abnormal’ when they do not fall in love or engage in relationships and sexual activities during their adolescence, because of the existing relationship-based, heterosexual discourse in the Netherlands.
3.6 Sexual Script theory
To be able to understand sexual scripts, we must first define sexuality as a concept. I will use the definition of sexuality by sociologist Stevi Jackson. Sexuality refers to all “erotically significant aspects of social life, such as desires, practices, relationships and identities” (Jackson 2006: 106). Furthermore, sexuality is fluid and has “no clear boundaries”: it depends upon an individual and the given contexts for its definition (ibid.). In other words, what is perceived as sexual for one person could be completely non-sexual for the other, yet this can also change over time and place (ibid.). Sociologists John H. Gagnon & William Simon discuss that sexuality “represents humanity in the most social way” (Gagnon & Simon 1973: 15). Their sexual script theory challenges the belief that all individuals are born with sexual urges, and thus argues that for example sexual desires and practices become sexual through interaction and the application of sexual scripts (ibid.: 19).
According to Gagnon & Simon, sexual scripts occur on three different levels: as cultural scenarios, interpersonal, and intrapsychic scripts. (ibid.: 13). Firstly, cultural scenarios are the narratives that a society uses to constructs sexuality, also known as “what poststructuralists would call
discourses” (Rahman & Jackson 2010: 169). Cultural scenarios, for example the media or a religion, are used to “make sense of the sexual” (ibid.). Secondly, interpersonal scripting is external, and realised through interaction between individuals. Gagnon & Simon argue that when people are involved in “doing sex”, they assemble a large set of “verbal and non-verbal gestures” that are all
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1480590/ (research by Amy Schalet (2004): ‘Must we fear
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part of “cultural routines” (Gagnon & Simon 1973: 14). Lastly, intrapsychic scripting emerges from an individual’s desires and the reflection upon one’s own sexual fantasies, desires and encounters. Individuals make sense of those experiences through the former levels of cultural and interpersonal scripting (ibid.: 15). If we look at the case of an asexual individual, one might not experience the drive to ‘do sex’, but still feels ‘different’ for not wanting to engage in sex through the interactions with others, by the media or society in general. Here do all three levels of sexual scripts “intersect” and inform one another (Rahman & Jackson 2010: 170). In the next chapter I will analyse how my participants ‘discovered and explored’ their asexuality and define the asexual spectrum.
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Asexuality 101
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4.1 Introduction
In order to understand asexuality, we must first define and ‘invent’ asexuality. Just as with other sexualities, asexuality should not be reduced to a single, homogenous community (Chasin 2011: 715). We must take the variability and diversity of the asexual population into account. This chapter will explain the asexual spectrum, the possible causes of asexuality, the medical history, if my
participants experience genital arousal and their thoughts on masturbation and porn, and finally sheds light upon asexual subjectivities and heteronormativity.
4.2 The Asexual Spectrum
Asexuality is one of the four sexual orientations, next to heterosexuality, homosexuality and bisexuality, where individuals experience a lack of sexual attraction towards others. Sexual attraction means finding another person sexually appealing. Julie Decker argues that asexuality is predominantly about the lack of sexual attraction, not necessarily about the absence of sexual behaviour (Decker 2015: 8, 28). Furthermore, an individual can desire an intimate romantic relationship, masturbate, and/or engage in sexual activities, and still be asexual (Scott & Dawson 2015: 3; Brotto & Yule 2011). Asexual identities also differ from celibate identities, which are defined as a personal choice (Scherrer 2008: 631).
On page 20, I present a figure of the asexual spectrum. Figure 1 shows the various ways in 4
which individuals can experience an asexual identity, namely through a lack of sexual attraction and/or romantic attraction, to which extent, and what gender(s) one feels attracted to. If we use this figure on my research group we can say the following: 11 of the 12 participants identify as asexual,
Figure 2 of the asexual spectrum: (https://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/19/asexual-spectrum_n_3428710.html)
and thus lack sexual attraction towards others. Within this group Liz identifies as ‘greysexual’, which means she experiences sexual attraction in specific situations. She usually does not mind sexual activity with someone she feels strongly connected to, but sex should not be the only important outcome of intimacy. Lars does not identify as asexual, because he is unsure if he experiences sexual attraction or not, and prefers not to label himself. Six participants identify as ‘heteroromantic
asexual’, and experience romantic attraction towards individuals of the opposite sex or gender. Stefan, Yanna and Noa identify as ‘aromantic asexual’, and experience no romantic attraction towards others. Aromantic ‘ideal’ relationships are usually defined as purely platonic, where romantic asexuals often prefer different forms of physical intimacy, such as cuddling or kissing (Scherrer 2008: 633-634). Christine and Willem identify as ‘homoromantic asexual’, and felt romantic attraction to people of the same gender or sex. Finally, Anna identifies as ‘panromantic asexual’, which means she can feel romantic attraction towards anyone, and this is not limited by gender or sex. Nobody identifies as ‘biromantic asexual’ or ‘demisexual’. Biromantic asexual is the experience of romantic attraction to both males and females, and demisexual means that sexual attraction could occur if an asexual forms a strong bond with another person.
Between 1 % and 6 % of the world population is considered asexual (Bogaert 2004). The
problem with this calculation is that Bogaert only refers to people who never experience sexual attraction. People who rarely experience sexual attraction or who no longer do so are excluded from this research, which could mean there could exist more asexuals than we realise (Chasin 2011: 713). Furthermore, some asexuals could be unaware of their asexuality because they experience romantic attraction, and/or physiological arousal. Research of Brotto & Yule (2011) shows that asexuals do consciously experience physiological arousal when confronted with sexual stimuli. Nevertheless, their sexual arousal is lower compared to sexual individuals and it is often not directed towards anyone (Brotto et al. 2007 ; Brotto & Yule 2011). Asexual men and women also masturbate: 80 % of asexual men and 70 % of asexual women engaged in masturbation during their lives (Brotto et al. 2017: 312). In my research, five participants mentioned they masturbate. Willem shared the following experience:
“I do watch porn. Sometimes I used to think (laughs), what kind of asexual am I? But to me porn and sex are two different things. Sex is sex, and next to sex there is so much more. I have fun on the internet, I watch porn, I masturbate, I fantasise.. But I am never an agent in my fantasies, I am a spectator (Willem, 55, homoromantic asexual, 2017).”
This remark tells us that sexual attraction and genital arousal do not necessarily imply one another (Brotto et al. 2017: 317). Furthermore, Willem argued he is never an active participant in his sexual
fantasies: although his fantasies cause him to experience (genital) arousal, he has no interest to be a part of them. In this way Willem disconnects his ‘self ’ from his sexual fantasies. This disconnection between the “self ” and others in sexual fantasies is called identity-less sexuality (Bogaert 2012: 119). Participant Willem thus experiences no sexual attraction, but still enjoys masturbating, porn and
fantasies.
An important feature of asexual discourse is the contrast between sexual and romantic attraction. Most of the time, asexuals experience romantic attraction independent from sexual attraction. Romantic attraction is difficult to define, but it is considered a desire to start a romantic relationship with another person. When I asked my participants about how they experienced 5
romantic attraction towards others, some of the answers were: a desire to spend a lot of time together, having butterflies in one’s stomach, a wish to kiss, holding hands and/or cuddle, and excitement when seeing their ‘love interest’ again. However, my participants differed in their
experience of romantic attraction, in what way, and to which degree. Following Chasin, I argue that the asexual spectrum is fluid and responsive to diversity within the community (Chasin 2011: 715). It is important to realise that every human is on a spectrum ranging from extremely sexual to extremely asexual, with a range of greysexuality in the middle (ibid.: 717). The same goes for
romantic and aromantic orientations. Therefore, David Jay who is the founder of AVEN, argues that only asexuals themselves can decide if they are asexual or not, no one else. 6
Karen Cuthbert’s (2015) research on asexuality and disability shows the problematic effort to represent asexuality as a homogenous group. Respondent Kate in Cuthbert’s research, who is asexual and disabled, attended a pride march with other asexuals and stressed:
“I was hoping that we had a large enough range of personality types, a range of ages, a clear mix of genders and gender presentations, etc. I was worried that, if we appeared too homogenous in any way, we might end up accidentally reinforcing a pre-existing negative stereotype. To give some examples: too many disabled people (‘asexuality is a medical symptom’), too many geeky people (‘asexuality is an excuse for socially awkward people who can’t get dates’), too many young women (‘silly attention-seeking teenage girls’) or too many middle class white people (‘probably a hipster thing) (Kate in Cuthbert 2015: 12).”
It was important for participant Kate that the performance of asexuality was presented in the best way possible for the ‘audience’ of the pride march. Otherwise the performance of the asexuals could be threatened, or taken less seriously and even more stigmatised (Goffman 1959: 44 ; 206).
http://wiki.asexuality.org/Romantic_attraction
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David Jay is the founder of the American AVEN (Asexuality Visibility and Education Network).
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My group of participants features a large variability in terms of gender, age, life story, and the ways they defined their asexuality, romantic attraction and relationships. Therefore, “gold star” asexuals with a fixed set of characteristics to represent asexuals in the ‘best’ way possible do not exist, because of the variability within the community (Cuthbert 2015: 9).
4.3 What causes Asexuality?
The research which studies possible causes of asexuality is challenging, because this field is widely insuffienctly researched (Bogaert 2015). Often a phenomenon can have several causes, for example biological, historical and environmental ones. Antony Bogaert (2015) distinguishes causes by micro and macro levels of analysis. Micro refers to causes inside a human being and macro focuses on broader, social and historical events (Bogaert 2015: 148).
In the research of Brotto et al. (2010) all respondents believe asexuality is congenital, with genetic components to it (Brotto et al. 2010: 615). Most of my participants viewed asexuality as innate, a hormonal disbalance, or felt it was present as long as they can remember. This confirms the believe that “rooting” asexuality in the body is a form of legitimising one’s asexuality (Przybylo 2012: 235). My participant Anna prefers to view her asexuality as beyond her control, because otherwise it could become problematic to think about it:
“I believe what causes asexuality is a mix of nature and nurture. I believe both, but it is better to be oblivious about it. If you say that asexuality is in a specific gene or DNA part, people could try to modify it. And if you say asexuality is more nurture, people could try to prevent asexual ‘habits’. So yeah, I try to stay busy with other things (Anna, 24, panromantic asexual, 2017).”
Anna dreads the created association between asexuality and genetic factors, because this could create a path for treatment and medicalisation of asexuality (Van Houdenhove et al. 2014: 188). It seems that Anna disconnected herself from her asexuality, perhaps to ‘protect her asexuality from evil’ and therefore herself.
Most of my participants do not feel the need to ‘cure’ their asexuality, and are reluctant to associate it with genetic/hormonal dysfunction. Moreover, in one study on asexuality respondents they reported that they “underrated their psychiatric symptoms” to decrease the relationship
between asexuality and the assumed psychopathology (Brotto et al. 2010: 608). Another assumption is that a traumatic event or sexual abuse is responsible for asexuality. Participant Roos mentioned she received remarks such as:
abused in the past. But it is a horrible question to receive if you were sexually abused, right? (Roos, 25, heteromantic asexual, 2017).”
Roos confirms that it can be harmful to ask people about such personal issues, and therefore should not be the way to approach the subject of asexuality (Decker 2015: 104). Also, there is no evidence that asexuality always implies sexual abuse or trauma.
From a biological perspective asexuality can be seen as a disorder, because it is atypical compared to “life’s natural order of things”, namely the engagement in sexual activity and ultimately human reproduction (Bogaert 2015: 105). Nevertheless, the assumption that asexuals own different sexual attraction levels (e.g. low testosterone) is questionable, as this is not yet extensively researched (Bogaert 2006: 246). Furthermore, some of my participants confirmed the experience of genital arousal, and a couple of them watches porn, masturbates and has sexual fantasies. To this day 7
there is no evidence of asexuality being connected to specific genes (Bogaert 2015: 150). Some researchers found biological features correlated to asexuality, such as increased health problems, shorter stature, lower weight, left handedness, and finger-length ratio (Brody 2010 ; Poston & Baumle 2010 ; Brotto & Yule 2010). In my research group I found no striking correlations of such calibre. Two participants confirmed they are autistic, and two other participants suspect they are on the autism spectrum. However, existing research on asexuality and autism argues there is no
concrete link between the two, meaning this hypothesis still needs more research (Kellaher 2015 ; Dewinter et al. 2017).
4.4 Medical Discourse
In the 20th Century many researchers would confirm the statement that asexuality was viewed as a “part of a mental disorder”, and uncomplimentary compared to ‘normal sexualities’ (Scott & Dawson 2015: 5). Where neurologist Sigmund Freud (1973) defined asexuality as an outcome of repression, biologist Alfred Kinsey would assign asexuals to Group X. In 1948, Kinsey developed a scale in sexual orientation which ranked from zero (exclusively heterosexual) to six (exclusively gay/ lesbian), including bisexual people in the middle. Kinsey’s scale is mostly based on people’s sexual behaviour. Others who would not fit this scale were assigned to ‘Group X’: this group needs to wait for their ‘true’ sexuality to develop (Scott & Dawson 2015 ; Bogaert 2015: 17). He was later
criticised by psychologist Michael Storms (1979) for his “undimensional” scale: the fact that everybody is reduced to one axis of sexual behaviour (Przybylo 2012: 227). Also, Kinsey did not explore asexuality in-depth, nor did he mention asexuality in his Kinsey scale.
I did not ask my participants about their bodily experience and changes when they mentioned their ‘sexual arousal’. I
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Another problematic situation is the presumed link between asexuality and pathology. Psychologist Paula Nurius (1983) associated asexuality with a higher risk of mental health issues, when she found statistically significant rates of depression and self-esteem problems among asexuals that were higher compared to other sexual minorities (ibid.: 228). Nevertheless, the difference in self-esteem between asexuals and other sexual orientations disappeared when asked about background characteristics (Brotto & Yule 2017: 620). For example, existing quantitative studies showed that asexuals had the same rates of distress and depression as the ‘population norm’ (Brotto et al. 2010). However, an asexual individual could experience distress because of expectations of their partner, or stigma and prejudice surrounding asexuality (Chasin 2011: 722). And even if asexuals do experience higher rates of distress, it should not be used to pathologise asexuals or the whole asexual community in general.
The most common link between asexuality and a mental disorder is the one with Hypoactive
Sexual Desire Disorder (HSDD), which was created in the 1970s with the rise of sex therapy (Hinderliter 2013: 174). The fourth edition of the ‘Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders’ (DSM) adopted HSDD as a diagnosis (DSM-IV-TR 1994: 539). An HSDD diagnosis contains an individual’s deficient desire for sexual activity and fantasies, and an individual’s suffering from distress and personal difficulty because of this ‘disturbance’ (Hinderliter 2013: 168).
There are some fundamental differences between HSDD and asexuality which are
important to mention. First, HSDD creates a negative view on the lack of sexual “interest”, whereas the asexual spectrum views a lack of sexual attraction as neutral or positive (ibid.: 173). Four
participants in my research mentioned they accepted their asexuality, and carried a positive attitude towards it. Six participants stayed neutral about their asexuality, or did not talk about this matter in great depth. Only Daniëlle expressed her asexuality as “very difficult, relationships are hard to find and people will never truly understand it, it is isolating at times”. This remark goes hand in hand with the assumption that a romantic relationship needs sexual activity to ‘survive’. Nevertheless, most asexuals do not need “fixing” because of their lack of sexual attraction, which is frequently the case with individuals diagnosed with HSDD (Brotto & Yule 2011: 700). Hinderliter (2013) argues that “both concepts were created to help address difficulties that people not interested in sex face”, but their ideologies and function vary (Hinderliter 2013: 176). Second, HSDD is diagnosed by a clinician who possesses the “expert knowledge” about the diagnosis, whereas asexuals identify their own identification and comprehension without a diagnosis (ibid.). Third, HSDD is marked by a distress, but researchers found no evidence of higher distress in asexuals (Prause & Graham 2007 ; Brotto et al. 2010).
David Jay, founder of the AVEN community, philosopher in linguistics Andrew Hinderliter,
exclude asexuality from HSDD characteristics in the DSM-V. David Jay stressed the report of several misdiagnosed HSDD cases from self-identified asexuals, who were told they needed therapy or medication. In May 2013 they triumphed: asexuality was excluded from the list of HSDD 8
criteria in the DSM-V, which was an important move towards the depathologisation of asexuality (DSM V: 434-435).
4.5 Masturbation, Genital Arousal and Porn
Research on asexuality found that asexual men and women do not necessarily masturbate less, although the motivation for masturbation often diverged from sexual people (Bogaert 2015 ; Chivers et al. 2007 ; Yule et al. 2016 ; Scherrer 2008). Masturbation is defined as a solo act of sexual
pleasure without the active, physical presence of another person (Gagnon 1977: 141). Five of my participants (three men and two women) engaged in masturbation. Motivation for masturbation were relaxation and to release ‘pleasurable’ feelings. Interestingly, aromantic asexual Stefan reported that he experienced no fantasies during masturbation, and mentioned he could even think of a ‘shopping list’. Antony Bogaert called this “non-directed masturbation”: Stefan’s masturbation is not targeted to a fantasy or individuals in particular (Bogaert 2015: 61). Willem did have fantasies
during masturbation, but he made a disconnection between himself and his sexual fantasies and had no ‘agentic role’ in them. Participants regarded masturbation as a physical activity, with no sexual connotations (Scherrer 2008: 628). The other seven participants did not masturbate because they experienced no physical pleasures from it, or thought the act of masturbation was uninteresting. As Christine said, masturbation “only gave me a dead arm”. Nevertheless, only four out of 12
participants explicitly mentioned they never experienced genital arousal. This confirms that genital arousal and sexual arousal are two different entities and they do not imply one another (Chasin 2011: 717), and that genital arousal does not necessarily predict masturbation. For example,
Pascalle, Daniëlle and Liz argued they could experience genital arousal but felt no motivation to ‘act upon it’. In other words, the body becomes aroused, not their mind and feelings (Van Houdenhove et al. 2011: 276).
Humans are one click away from the access to sexual content since the rise of the internet. Except for Lars and Willem, none of my participants watched porn. Lars mentioned that porn made “masturbation quicker and easier” and preferred pornographic content that looked like “real sex”. Willem enjoyed to watch porn, but preferred to skip the question where I asked about the 9
kind of pornographic content. However, the other 10 participants stayed away from porn, and
https://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/18/asexual-disorder_n_3361472.html
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I did not include a follow-up question in our interview how Lars would define “real sex” porn.
thought it was ‘disgusting’, uninteresting, bizarre, or too intimate to witness. Participants may dislike porn because they lack sexual attraction, and receive no pleasure from watching sexual behaviour that is ‘strange to them’ (Bogaert 2015: 97). There is no research up to date about asexual
individuals and surveyance of pornographic content. Further research could investigate the motivation and ‘pornographic preferences’ of asexual individuals who do watch porn.
4.6 Asexual Subjectivities
Asexuality received little attention in the past by social institutions, even compared to other marginalised sexualities. Perhaps this is due to the fact that asexuality is defined as a lack of sexual attraction, and therefore remained disguised (Scherrer 2008: 637). Yet from a historical perspective, it is almost certain asexual practices have existed at all times, but only recently “emerged as
subjectivities” (Scott & Dawson 2015: 4). I will use the definition of subjectivity used by the French philosopher Michèl Foucault (1980). Foucault focused on the understanding of discourses as power relations, which in turn transforms us humans into subjects. Subjects seek strategies to transform these power relations and therefore transform themselves as well (Foucault 1980). Foucault
mentioned the development of a new sexual regime in the 18th century. Alongside the institution of marriage and the reproduction of children, sexual pleasure and bodily sensations also became important. All human relationships can be categorised in sexual and non-sexual, especially through the universal taboo of incest (Gressgård 2013: 184). Even then the lack of sexual attraction and practice was considered abnormal, therefore the subjects who did not conform to ‘normal’ sexuality were pathologised (ibid.: 185).
In the case of my research group, I use Scherrer’s definition of subjectivity, who argues that subjectivity is the challenge of asexuals against power relations and discourses (e.g.
heteronormativity) by rejecting the belief of sexuality as essential for human nature (Scherrer 2008: 632). For example participant Yanna talked about wanting a relationship in the future, which should be “purely platonic”. As ‘aromantic asexual’, Yanna experiences neither sexual nor romantic
attraction. However, Yanna divides a relationship from a friendship in the way that she experiences specific feelings to be in a relationship with a person, although Yanna mentioned that “those feelings rarely occur”. Yanna makes a distinction between a relationship and a friendship, but not in the way that most people do: namely viewing a friendship as a relationship without the sexual component. In other words, Yanna and other asexuals challenge and re-write discourses of intimacy, sex and
relationships, by creating their own terminology of these concepts (ibid.: 632).
Another way how asexuals challenge notions of heteronormativity, relationships and
sexuality is through the rejection of sex as a ‘core feature’ in a relationship (ibid.: 629). Participants Roos and Pascalle are both involved in a romantic relationship with a sexual man. Roos had not yet
engaged in sex with her partner when I conducted our interview, but nevertheless she mentioned that sex would never be the most important factor in her relationship:
“It (sex) is not necessary for me to have. Should he wake up with an erectile dysfunction tomorrow, then I would accept that. Sex is not really a part of my love for someone. Yet I do have a libido, so I think maybe I can share those feelings with my partner who enjoys them too (Roos, 25, heteroromantic asexual, 2017).”
Pascalle replied a similar way and told me that she never initiates sex, and purely engages in sex because it makes her partner happy. Pascalle and her partner follow a interpersonal sexual script that includes the ‘act’ of coital sex and ultimately her partner’s orgasm. The script is interpersonal as the act of “doing sex” is created through the interaction between Pascalle and her partner (Gagnon & Simon 1973: 14). Nevertheless, Pascalle stressed the importance of the other elements that are part of this sexual script, namely cuddling, kissing and bodily contact with her partner before and after “he is done with (coital) sex”. On the other hand, Liz argued that sex will never be the main feature of her relationship. Like Pascalle, Liz enjoys cuddling, kissing and holding hands, but she “can live without the sex part”. Because Roos, Liz and Pascalle can experience genital arousal, it is ‘possible’ for them to engage in sex. Their remarks suggest that asexual individuals can engage in sex, often with a motivation to satisfy their partner.
4.7 Enter the Heteronormative Matrix
You are a straight and sexual human, unless otherwise specified. This remark reveals an underlying assumption in Western society where everybody is (hetero)sexual. Heteronormativity reveals what it means to have a ‘normal’ heterosexual practice and way of existence. Heterosexuality is silent but omnipresent, and receives its meaning from marginalising other sexual minorities (Johnson 2004: 188). Therefore, heteronormativity is linked to power, and decides which people are included or excluded, who needs to adjust, and who conforms to the norm in society (Herz & Johansson 2015: 1019). It presents the monogamous heterosexual relationship as sacred, which in turn is deeply embedded in state policies and institutional practices (ibid.: 110).
Heterosexuality involves many practices, which go far beyond the heterosexual relationship. I will present three examples of heteronormative practices. First, the high valuation of marriage in Dutch society: married couples receive more tax advantages than single individuals. Second, for 10
straight individuals it is considered irrelevant to come out as heterosexual, whereas for other sexual minorities it is an anticipated event (Scott & Dawson 2016: 278). Finally, the assumption of the
https://www.belastingdienst.nl/wps/wcm/connect/bldcontentnl/belastingdienst/prive/relatie_familie_en_gezondheid/relatie/
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