How To Write Asexual Characters
As you might have guessed from the fact that two of my posts for this Asexual Awareness Week were about media representations, fictional stories are incredibly important to me. Nonfiction tells us who we are, but fiction tells us who we think we are and who we want to be, which is way more interesting, in my opinion.
That’s why there are so many pushes for representation, too. How can we expect more women to feel welcome in STEM fields if they don’t even see themselves in fake soundstage labs? How can we expect to stop those douchy “no [insert racist term for X ethnicity here]” dating profiles if POC are almost never cast as romantic leads? And how can we expect kids not to see queer relationships as overtly sexual if they never see two same-gender people kiss until the movie’s rated PG-13?
If we’re not seen in fiction, no one will fight for us in real life. Fiction is a really easy way to set a precedent for the real world, and that power should be used responsibly.
So with that in mind, I’d like to give some tips to my fellow creators out there on how to create ace characters without making it worse.
Note: I am not the voice of all asexual people. This list is going to come from a very white, cis, American perspective. Think of this less as a Divine Manuscript and more as a basic blueprint that should be expanded with your own knowledge, and the knoweldge of other ace people.
Now then.
Some Things to Avoid
Alright, moving on to the next point.
I’m kidding. But seriously.
Sheldon here is a great catch-all to use, because he embodies so many of the worst ace stereotypes, even though he’s never called ace.
Which is actually my first point! Call an ace of spades an ace of spades. If your character is ace, don’t use euphemisms, don’t call them “a prude” or “shy” or “wired differently”. They’re ace. Say so.
That’s not to say you have to have your character suddenly stand up and say, “Attention everyone! I know we’re all very concerned about which of us killed Count Dromfurnickle, but I would just like to take this opportunity to inform you all that I am asexual. Forgive me, Detective Beerlock Thames, please continue your assessment.”
You don’t have to, but it would be amazing.
When Todd came out on Bojack Horseman, he didn’t say the word asexual, nor did anyone else until the next season, but it’s still made very clear.
“I’m not gay! I mean…I don’t think I am, but…I don’t think I’m straight either. I don’t know what I am. I think I might be nothing.”
It’s crystal clear that he’s not just a shy straight guy, or secretly gay. He says he’s “nothing” while talking about sexuality. You can make it unambiguous without beating your audience over the head with it.
Speaking of beating you over the head with it, if I had a dollar for every time the creators of this show insisted Sheldon was not autistic, I’d have enough money to buy the freedom of all those captives in the studio audience who are being mercilessly tickled so it looks like the show’s still funny.
I’m hardly an authority when it comes to what is and is not “autistic enough”, but I’ve seen enough from the show and heard enough from autistic people online to know that Sheldon’s coded autism is pretty hard to deny. And the fact that I’m not an authority on autism proves my second point.
Not all asexual people are autistic or otherwise neurodivergent.
Unfortunately, a lot of characters who get headcanoned as asexual also happen to be headcanoned or otherwise coded as autistic. BBC’s Sherlock is one, for instance. There’s nothing wrong with this in a vacuum. There are many, many people in the world who exist on both of the A-spectrums, and they deserve representation as much as anyone else. But if the only ace characters out there are also autistic, and vice versa, it sends the troubling message that the two are always interlinked.
This does no one any favors. For autistic people, it contributes to the troubling narrative that they “have the mind of a child”, and would never be interested in sex as a result. This is infantilizing, and not only erases those who have any other sexual orientation, but the idea that autistic people can have healthy, consensual sex lives regardless of their orientation. And for asexual people, it contributes to the continued pathologization of asexuality, the fact that it’s some sort of quirk of genetics or brain chemistry instead of a sexual orientation like any other.
If your character is both autistic and asexual, that’s awesome! Just please go out of your way to establish that these are two separate aspects of their identity, rather than a package deal, and neither of them should mean your character is doomed to never have a healthy romantic or even sexual relationship.
And speaking of healthy relationships, let’s talk about Amy.
The worst part is that this started out okay. Not great, but okay. Amy wanted Sheldon sexually basically from day one, but she still refused to push the issue. She was willing to go at his pace, even though she was clearly a bit frustrated and insecure about it.
And Sheldon himself never magically becomes interested in sex. When he brings up the fact that he’s finally ready to have “coitus” (ugh) with Amy, it’s as an item on his ideas for birthday gifts for her. He sees it as a favor to her, not as something he suddenly wants desperately. And after they have sex, he isn’t blown away by this amazing thing he’s missing out on. He just happily and peacefully says, “Well, I enjoyed that more than I thought I would.”, then says he’s okay with doing it again…next year. And Amy’s fine with that.
On the other hand, Sheldon not wanting sex is still treated as one of his many bizarre quirks. It contributes to the narrative that Sheldon is a robot, or an alien, or whatever other dehumanizing names they decide to call him for the sake of a few laughs.
Don’t have other characters compare your ace character to non-human things unless we’re supposed to hate the name-caller. Character development and conflict is important, but even having the character call themselves that contributes to this sort of dehumanization. It’s not new or edgy or “real”, it’s old and tired and pushes horrible stereotypes. Unless you have a really good reason, just don’t go there.
And while we’re here, make your ace character human. Yes, it’s probably logical that a robotic character would be ace, or that some alien species would have no concept of sexual attraction, but again, it’s overdone and makes asexuality into something unnatural and literally alien. Making a literal robot with no genitalia asexual is the opposite of groundbreaking.
Moving back (unfortunately) to The Big Bang Theory.
Sheldon is also sort of a jerk to Amy, especially in the beginning. He forces her to abide by a long, written out relationship contract (50 Shades, anyone?), sneers at anything romantic, and continues to make comments about the validity of Amy’s work that are both condescending and sexist. There are a lot of issues Amy can and does take with Sheldon’s faults as a boyfriend.
The problem, is that him not wanting to have sex is treated as one of them.
Amy constantly complains to her friends that Sheldon won’t put out, and they sympathize as if that’s a completely valid complaint. She does wait for him to be ready to move forward, physically and emotionally, but it’s framed less like an understanding respect of boundaries and more like Amy carrying a heavy burden that Sheldon refuses to lift out of pure selfishness. If the genders were flipped, it would be obvious that this is a shitty way to look at things, but because it’s reversed, it’s okay. He’s a guy, after all, he should be constantly thinking about sex and ready to bone at all hours, right?
Do not frame asexuality as an obstacle your character or couple needs to push through. Ever.
Now that we’ve gotten through the negative stuff and I’ve hopefully filled my quota of talking about The Big Bang Theory for the next five years, let’s move on to the fun stuff.
Some Things to Explore
There are some basic themes and storylines that resonate for ace audiences more than others. Here are just a few to either help you get started, or see how the story you already have can fit into it.
I would say one of the biggies is isolation. Being asexual is isolating almost by definition. Gay men and straight women both understand attraction to men, gay women and straight men both understand attraction to women, and bi and pan people can usually find some common experiences with any of the above groups.
But no one experiences, and therefore can fully understand, a lack of sexual attraction except other asexuals. You can’t “make do” like gay men do by venting to straight women, for example. The only people you can relate to when it comes to conversations about sex is other aces, and if you don’t know any in person, then your only source of community is online, from a distance. Same thing if you’re aromantic or agender. It’s incredibly difficult to explain how a lack of something feels to someone who has always had that thing.
Combine that lack of in-person platonic/familial support structure with the fact that many aces either don’t want a relationship or can’t find anyone who’s willing to “deal” with a lack of sex and so can’t find support that way either, and you get a perfect storm of unhealthy isolation.
Having an ace character is also a good excuse to explore relationship dynamics. Many people are confused when someone is asexual but not aromantic, or vice versa. If you’re ace but not aro, the question people ask is “Well, why not just be friends? If there’s no sex, what’s the difference?”. If you’re aro but not ace, the question people ask is, “Why do you insist on using your partner like that? Isn’t that dehumanizing them? Don’t you feel ashamed?”
All of these are questions wrongly asked, of course, but it does show some interesting doors that ace and/or aro characters open.
For the first, there is a difference between loving someone romantically and loving someone as a friend or family member. Somewhere, we do know that. But that difference is sort of intangible, isn’t it? It’s just easier to say the difference is sex, but it’s more than that. Exploring what that elusive difference is (which will probably be different for every character) provides great fodder for character study, theme, maybe even worldbuilding, depending on what sort of story it is.
And for the second, a purely sexual relationship can be just as healthy as any other relationship, as long as there is open communication and honesty from both sides. Most of the time, when friends-with-benefits situations fall apart, it’s because one person wanted a more romantic relationship, but lied either to themselves or to their partner in the hopes that one day it would become more. Lying to get what you want is a shaky foundation for any kind of relationship. On the other hand, exploring what a healthy sexual-platonic relationship would look like would make a great story on its own, and provide some visibility and hope to the many, many people who want that sort of relationship, but see it as impossible or selfish.
Finally, it’s an opportunity to look at unconventional families. Many ace and aro people do make the decision to raise children. Maybe they outsource it by adopting or getting a surrogate, or maybe they do it the old-fashioned way because the cheaper ends justify the less-than-ideal means. Maybe they’re raising them with a romantic or platonic partner, or maybe they’re going solo, relying on friends and family members for any needed support. In any case, it challenges the idea of the nuclear family, the idea that one’s parents are always romantically and sexually in love, and strengthens the idea of chosen families that resonates with most of the LGBT+ community.
There’s so much more, obviously, but I hope this served to get the gears turning. Because while non-ace people probably shouldn’t focus on writing stories about the ace experience (since as mentioned above, it’s hard to relate to it unless you’ve really been through it), we need more ace characters sprinkled into stories of every genre who are fully rounded, emotional, and complex.
And less of The Big Bang Theory. Just, like, in general.
