The Invisible Orientation
8/10/14 20:46![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I've just finished listening to the audiobook version of Julie Sondra Decker's The Invisible Orientation: An Introduction to Asexuality (narrated by Reay Kaplan).
I book-reviewed it on Audible, but I wanted to make a few notes about my more personal reaction to it.
When I first encountered the idea of asexuality, I thought, "That could be me, but I'm not sure it fits," and I spent some time on AVEN forums, trying to figure out if I "qualified" to claim the label. I didn't feel especially at home in those forums, being about three times the age of the average user and having very little in common with most of them. I had some serious problems trying to fit my sexual history into a model that is still being defined and that didn't exist until I was already 50 years old.
So I wandered off, and have intermittently (and in safe spaces) identified as "ace" or "on the spectrum" without being out about it. Out-ness feels either unimportant or dangerous to me for various reasons having to do with my age and my family. In the meantime, I explored a lot of my other atypicalities: lefthandedness, attachment "disorder", introversion (atypical mostly only by American standards), permanent singlehood, an attention deficit; some of which feel akin to my asexuality for reasons I can't quite articulate.
Then, the other evening, I stumbled on a documentary called (A)Sexual on Netflix, and that led me to Julie Decker's new book, where, at last, I found specific acknowledgment that people my age, without a term or concept to describe themselves, might have a sexual history very much like mine and might feel just as I feel about it, and yes, do therefore claim the asexual descriptor.
For instance, I've been in sexual relationships. Sex was not horrible: I enjoyed some of it. I find some people aesthetically attractive, but I never had a way to understand the difference between that and sexual attraction. For most of my adult life, I thought they were synonymous, and I've found plenty of men visually pleasing. I have a libido--admittedly, not a huge one--and OMG I've written sexually explicit stories! That disqualifies me, right?
And then there's the fact that I have had some kind-of traumatic experiences around men and sex, and I've been diagnosed and treated for depression, AND I'm getting pretty old--so maybe "that's all it is": just PTSD, just mental illness, just age. Does all this mean I can't really claim the asexual label? The Invisible Orientation cleared that up: many asexual people have the same experiences. Asexuality is a description for people who aren't sexually attracted to others. It's mine to use if I want to.
I've come away from the book feeling much more sure (and positive) about calling myself asexual: somewhere in the nuanced and complex set of terms for self-concepts outside the "allosexual" (that is, non-asexual) range is one that fits me. Did it fit me every single day of my life? No. It's not a perfect match for my whole history. But I'm now willing to consider that the preponderance of evidence supports my decision to identity as ace.
It's pretty liberating.
I book-reviewed it on Audible, but I wanted to make a few notes about my more personal reaction to it.
When I first encountered the idea of asexuality, I thought, "That could be me, but I'm not sure it fits," and I spent some time on AVEN forums, trying to figure out if I "qualified" to claim the label. I didn't feel especially at home in those forums, being about three times the age of the average user and having very little in common with most of them. I had some serious problems trying to fit my sexual history into a model that is still being defined and that didn't exist until I was already 50 years old.
So I wandered off, and have intermittently (and in safe spaces) identified as "ace" or "on the spectrum" without being out about it. Out-ness feels either unimportant or dangerous to me for various reasons having to do with my age and my family. In the meantime, I explored a lot of my other atypicalities: lefthandedness, attachment "disorder", introversion (atypical mostly only by American standards), permanent singlehood, an attention deficit; some of which feel akin to my asexuality for reasons I can't quite articulate.
Then, the other evening, I stumbled on a documentary called (A)Sexual on Netflix, and that led me to Julie Decker's new book, where, at last, I found specific acknowledgment that people my age, without a term or concept to describe themselves, might have a sexual history very much like mine and might feel just as I feel about it, and yes, do therefore claim the asexual descriptor.
For instance, I've been in sexual relationships. Sex was not horrible: I enjoyed some of it. I find some people aesthetically attractive, but I never had a way to understand the difference between that and sexual attraction. For most of my adult life, I thought they were synonymous, and I've found plenty of men visually pleasing. I have a libido--admittedly, not a huge one--and OMG I've written sexually explicit stories! That disqualifies me, right?
And then there's the fact that I have had some kind-of traumatic experiences around men and sex, and I've been diagnosed and treated for depression, AND I'm getting pretty old--so maybe "that's all it is": just PTSD, just mental illness, just age. Does all this mean I can't really claim the asexual label? The Invisible Orientation cleared that up: many asexual people have the same experiences. Asexuality is a description for people who aren't sexually attracted to others. It's mine to use if I want to.
I've come away from the book feeling much more sure (and positive) about calling myself asexual: somewhere in the nuanced and complex set of terms for self-concepts outside the "allosexual" (that is, non-asexual) range is one that fits me. Did it fit me every single day of my life? No. It's not a perfect match for my whole history. But I'm now willing to consider that the preponderance of evidence supports my decision to identity as ace.
It's pretty liberating.
Tags:
(no subject)
10/10/14 01:53 (UTC)Oddly enough, I didn't have any involvement with the audio book so I didn't know the narrator was going to make an attempt at reading the resources section, and one of my issues with the audio format was that when she read the quote boxes from other asexual people, you didn't know it was designed to be an aside until she read out the attribution, and then you didn't know where the contributed text started! I wish she'd said "begin quote" or something. Those were little shaded gray boxes in the print version. She mispronounced quite a few of the blog names and handles, too, but it's forgivable; I just wish I could have guided that somewhat.
Anyway, you asked about resources! My website has some. It's not designed in the same order as the book's resources, but everything I mentioned in that chapter is probably in here somewhere:
http://juliesondradecker.com/?page_id=2058
I hope this helps! Thanks for reading/listening.
(no subject)
10/10/14 02:25 (UTC)And JSYK, some of what must have seemed off to you in the audiobook didn't register with me as a listener--I get most of my material through that medium and it's a very different intake method from reading. Reay's reading was great, and as far as I'm concerned any little "flaws" in the production were overshadowed by my intense interest in the content.
(I hope you see this.)
(no subject)
10/10/14 02:27 (UTC)(no subject)
16/10/14 20:39 (UTC)I haven't heard the entire book on audio yet, but overall I do like her expressiveness and most of the choices she made.