Disabled Ace Day

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I once again haven’t been active on the blog much. I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts lately, mostly true crime. Today though, I decided to check out the podcast The Ace Couple. In their most recent episode, which came out today and which I’m currently listening to, the podcast hosts said that it’s disabled ace day today. Ace, for those not aware, is short for “asexual”.

Like I shared when writing my post for coming out day, I’m for the most part asexual. I’m still figuring out where exactly I fit on the asexual spectrum. For those who don’t know, since sexuality isn’t an all-or-nothing thing, asexuality is a spectrum describing anyone who experiences significantly less sexual attraction to other people compared to the general population. People who are not asexual, are commonly called allosexual (“allo” being Greek for “other”). This also clarifies that people on the asexual spectrum, even people who are altogether ace, may experience sexual desire and pleasure.

I do not claim to be an authority on asexuality. Had I been able to be open about my queerness all this time, I might’ve been able to gather more information without feeling guilty. Like I said, I’m still figuring things out.

This is also where disability comes in. Commonly, it’s thought that disabled people, particularly those with intellectual or developmental disabilities, don’t experience the same sexual feelings as non-disabled people do. This is simply not true, although disabled people are more often taught to suppress our sexual feelings. After all, particularly those with intellectual and developmental disabilities are too often seen as “children in adult bodies”. I myself have used these analogies when describing emotional development. Because it finally enabled me to get sort of okay care, this analogy appeals to me even though it’s inherently ableist.

When a disabled person identifies as asexual or somewhere on the ace spectrum, it is then too easily thought that this is because of the way the person was raised or educated. This is the counterstereotype I so often used to talk about in my early days on WordPress (oh my, I need to bring some of those old posts back): if we want to defeat the idea that disabled people can’t have sex, asexual disabled people could be seen as harming the cause, similarly to how I’m seen as harming the cause for community-based support by living in an institution. In reality though, prejudice and oppression are systemic, not individual. Besides, it’s not our job as marginalized people to fit ourselves into society’s neat boxes, whether these are stereotypes or counterstereotypes or other ways of telling us who we are and how we should live our lives.

This doesn’t mean I’m not influenced by prejudice. Regularly, I think I’m too disabled for a relationship and that’s why I’m ace. I’m pretty sure that’s not true, as I do have many years of being in a relationship with my wife before either of us clarified our authentic needs and wants to the other. I remember writing a post back in 2008, which I’m not going to bring back here (don’t worry, wife!), in which I described not knowing whether I was actually attracted to her and thinking I certainly wasn’t interested in sex. If that doesn’t tell me I’m ace, what does?

The more I write, the more memories confirming that I’m indeed asexual, come to mind. I was quite repulsed as a teen, purposefully skipping the biology chapter on reproduction and refusing to read the sex ed material that my parents brought me at around age nine. Then again, I’m pretty sure my refusing to read it was because I hated reading Braille at the time and my parents made quite a big deal of me reading this book.

However, what if my asexuality is in fact related to my being multiply-disabled, including autistic? Does that mean I’m doing the disabled or autistic communities a disservice? I don’t think so, because like I said before there’s no value in dictating who I am. Besides, as someone who lived for twenty years not knowing she’s autistic and yet who was autistic all along, chances are we’ll never know for sure.

I’m joining in with #WWWhimsy.

Coming Out Day 2025

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. It’s once again been more than a week since I last touched the blog. I keep telling myself that I should write only to be distracted by other things once I feel able to write. I’m struggling badly, but I know my blog helps me feel connected to the world too. I originally intended to look at today’s prompt for #SoCS or to write a post for #WeekendCoffeeShare. Then my best friend pointed out that it’s coming out day today.

Though I was open about being queer when I first started writing online in 2002 and I was advocating for trans rights on my first blog on WP, I haven’t been very clear about my identity over the past fifteen years or so. Part of the reason is the fact that I’m still figuring things out even now that I’m 39. Is that even possible? Part of the reason though is also fear. I know some of my regular readers are Christians and I don’t want to elicit negativity from them. Then again, is having to deny part of myself in order to please others, actually a wise choice? I remember first starting this blog with the intention of writing from the heart and now I’m not doing that.

So, let’s get into it. With respect to sexuality, I’m mostly asexual but have experienced attraction to women. When I was a teen, I met a girl and felt the butterflies in my stomach, but I never met her again and honestly am to this day clueless as to whether my attraction to her was sexual. I’ve had other fleeting crushes but nothing that indicated I felt like I wanted to be intimate with anyone.

My partner and I are more best friends than lovers and neither of us ever felt any attraction to the other one. In fact, I remember letting her wait for four months when she disclosed she had a crush on me. A lot of our earlier “love” was based on societal expectations. Now that we’re clear about our queer identities, we’ve also decided we will no longer do anything we don’t feel comfortable with. That’s one reason we considered divorcing.

I knew I was asexual for many years, but felt like hiding it because of societal expectations too. Who cares about labels, I sometimes thought. Who’s going to check whether my partner and I have sex? Obviously, no-one is, but it often did feel like I was denying part of myself when I was pretending to be in a sexual relationship. In truth, I’m probably never going to be in a sexual relationship and that’s fine by me. Being emotionally very vulnerable, I sometimes even feel that I can’t maintain the expectations of a friendship. That’s probably why my wife is my only friend. I sometimes try to expand my circle of connections, but it’s really hard.

I do consider myself to be on the aromantic spectrum too, though that’s more complicated than the asexual part. I, after all, did and to an extent still do enjoy giving my wife heart-shaped polymer clay creations. It makes her feel uncomfortable, so I don’t do it anymore.

I still sometimes consider myself a lesbian based on the attraction I can experience. Because one of my fleeting crushes in high school was on a boy, I have considered that I might be bisexual or pansexual, but I’m heavily lesbian-leaning if that’s the case.

With respect to gender identity, I’m cis but somewhat gender non-conforming. I strongly identify with being a woman, which is clear from the fact that most of my online nicknames were/are gendered. I however don’t know how much of this is societal expectations once again and I do find my gender expression isn’t all that feminine. Honestly, in this case, I’ve stopped caring about labels, but then again I realize that’s a privilege too as I’ve learned to deal with the dysphoria I do experience. For example, I don’t have to worry whether my discomfort with my cycle is due to sensory issues, feeling too vulnerable or is actually related to my gender, as I take the birth control shot so no longer menstruate.

All this being said, being queer isn’t a strong part of my identity, but it is a part of it. I am glad I’m able to be open about it now, if for no other reason, then because it felt like I was constantly jumping through hoops trying to avoid being too open about the realities of my marriage.