'The moment I realised I was asexual'

Most people never forget the time, usually in adolescence, when they feel the first buzz of sexual attraction. But other people never forget the moment they realise they don’t experience sexual attraction – the moment they discover they are asexual.

For Anwen Hayward, a 20-year-old student at Aberystwyth University, it was when her twin sister got her first boyfriend at 17 that she thought, 'Hang on, I’m a bit different here.’ She explains: 'When you’re in school and university, everyone’s really focused on relationships. I never wanted that at all.’ At first she thought she was a slow developer, or a lesbian, but then she heard about the global online community for asexuality, AVEN (the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network).

Anwen defines herself as a romantic asexual and says she would be open to a romantic relationship with a man or a woman. So far she has had two relationships, both with 'sexuals’, which didn’t work. A recent date 'ended awfully when I told him that I was asexual’.

She explains: 'Holding hands is as far as I would ever take anything. For me [sex is] just revulsion, it really is. Just, ugh, no. [Cuddling] – that’s OK. Not kissing.’ She does not want to marry or have children because of the sex involved.

Anwen is a bright, confident young woman. But she says that because she’s young, fragile-looking and blonde, 'people assume that I’m very naive, that I’m not well versed in the world, and they talk down to me a lot, as if I’m unintelligent.’ She acknowledges that she may change her mind when she’s older, but then again, she says, one of the main issues she struggles with as an asexual is hearing that it’s just a phase she’s going through. '“You’ll grow out of it, it’s just a hormonal thing, you never know until you try, how do you know, you just haven’t found what you like yet…” are all very common things to be told.’

When you’re over 60 and still being told you just haven’t met the right person, it’s more annoying, of course. 'I let it slip one time at work that I’m an asexual aromantic [an asexual who is also not interested in making romantic attachments], and they think it’s absolutely hysterical,’ says Jean Wilson, a sales assistant and 63-year-old grandmother from Banbury. 'One of the women I work with said, “I don’t think you’ve met the right man yet.” I said: “Trish, I’m 63. If I haven’t met him by now I don’t think I’m going to.”’

Jean vividly recalls her moment of asexual awakening, eight years ago. She had come across a newspaper article about asexuality, which led her, in turn, to AVEN. 'It was just so wonderful and liberating that there were other people who felt as I did, and [to know I wasn’t] a freak anymore. I’d sit up writing comments on the website until stupid o’clock in the morning.’

AVEN now has about 50,000 to 60,000 members around the world, who chat on its online forums as well as meeting up in person, and even dating through the site. The founder, David Jay, a 30-year-old scientific researcher from San Francisco, says that human asexuality started to be hypothesised by scientific researchers in the 1970s and 1980s, but that it has only been in the past decade that a community of people started to identify with the term. 'It’s still something that’s expanding,’ he says.

The first major book on the subject, Understanding Asexuality, by Prof Anthony Bogaert, of Brock University, Canada, has just been published and this summer the first worldwide conference on asexuality was held in London.

'An asexual is someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction,’ is how Jay defines it. But, he says, someone who has lost interest in sex, for instance, probably wouldn’t define themselves as asexual because they used to be interested in sex and probably will be again. For most asexuals, 'It’s like a sexual orientation because it’s not a choice, it’s the way most of us have been for our entire lives.’ Jay himself is in a romantic relationship with an asexual girlfriend and they hope to adopt a child in future.

According to Prof Bogaert, one in 100 people is asexual, although many may not realise they are. Most asexuals are female. In one study, using data collected in the 1990s from 18,000 British people, Prof Bogaert found that about 70 per cent of asexual people were women. And asexuals are more likely than sexual people to stay single, he says, 'but some asexual people may still have nonsexual love or romantic bonds with partners’.

What is often hardest for 'sexuals’ to get their heads around is that this is not the same as sexual dysfunction or celibacy. Some asexuals are disgusted by the idea of sex and remain virgins for life, but others may masturbate and be capable of feeling pleasure sexually and having orgasms.

Isn’t this a contradiction in terms? No, says Prof Bogaert. 'Some asexuals do not have any masturbation experiences, and perhaps very little arousal experience. So there is no apparent contradiction there. But some asexuals have arousal experiences and do masturbate. They still have a general “sex drive”, but they just don’t connect that drive to anyone. So they have no sexual attraction to others. Thus, they are asexual from a sexual orientation perspective.’

In other words, some people are attracted to the opposite sex, some to the same sex, some to both, and some to no one (asexual). Michael Doré, a 30-year-old mathematics researcher at the University of Birmingham, who organised the London asexuality conference, explains it using the 'desert island analogy’. 'Imagine you’re a straight man on a desert island with only men. You’re not sexually attracted to anybody because everybody is male but you still have sexual desires and you can still feel pleasure down there.’ So is it like someone who has no appetite but can still experience the pleasant taste of food? Yes, exactly, he says.

Growing up with no interest in sex during the sexual revolution, Jean Wilson recalls, 'My friends couldn’t believe it. They said, “How can you still be a virgin? That’s stupid.” It was just unheard of. I went out with a lot of boys. But every relationship, it was like a brother. I just wanted to be friends.’

Although she could orgasm, she never understood society’s fascination with sex. 'It’s never appealed to me, it’s never interested me, it’s a total mystery to me why people are so obsessed.’

At 28, Jean married and had sex for the first time. 'I felt: “Good grief, what the hell was it all about? OK, what can I do now that’s more interesting?” I was [told I was] just frigid. That was a dreadful thing to hear as a woman.’ She wanted children, so agreed to sex as a 'chore’ ('In the 1970s I don’t think we knew about turkey basters,’ she explains). But after their second child was born, her husband left, and subsequent relationships haven’t worked out.

'The problem is that as you get older [dating is] more difficult anyway, and when you add in the asexuality, it makes it even more difficult. I did go on to Friends Reunited thinking once a bloke gets to 65, that’ll be it, we can just be friends. No, 65-year-olds are randy old goats. They’re trying to prove something. I gave that up. I might meet up with another aromantic, but I’m not looking for it.’

She lives with her divorced eldest son (who is aware of her asexuality) and his daughter. 'I really don’t need a close relationship, I don’t even need a best friend, and I’m quite happy the way I am.’

Prof Bogaert stresses that asexuality is not a problem. 'If someone is not distressed by their asexuality then, no, I don’t think it is a disorder. Someone can be healthy and happy as an asexual person.’

It can be stressful, though, to be in a sexual/asexual relationship. Clare Green, 37, has been married for 10 years and has a seven-year-old daughter. Although she has had normal sexual relationships (and now a marriage), she says she doesn’t understand what it means to be aroused: 'My sister talks about having an itch or something like a need; the word “horny”. I don’t tell people, but I don’t know what “sexual spark” means. Does it mean you get a twinge down there?

'It’s not like sex is unbearable – there’s pleasure, as such… It’s just that I don’t have the need to have sex. I like photography, I do sports, I do charity events, I play cello, I write. My energy is that way rather than towards sex.’

In her twenties, Clare thought she might be a lesbian and dated a woman, but her partner left her because she did not want to have sex. She hasn’t masturbated for about 10 years – having only ever tried it out of curiosity.

Today, she sleeps with her husband every fortnight to keep him satisfied. 'I love him to bits, he’s my best friend, but I don’t have a sexual attraction to him. He finds me absolutely sexy.

It’s a shame because I can’t go, “Oh, I think he’s sexy, too.” When I have sex it’s because I know it’s been long enough that he must want to have it.’

Clare told her husband she is asexual but he can’t understand. 'Recently he said, “What is it – don’t you love me?” I try to explain it’s not because I’m interested in someone else; I’m just not interested.’

How would she feel if he had an affair? She confesses, 'Sometimes I have thought to myself that maybe it would be a good idea.’

Some people argue that there’s no need for a label for every orientation. Anwen says: 'People say, “Asexuality’s not a real sexuality, you’re trying to be special or different.”’ As Jean explains, that’s not the case: 'Asexuality is a part of who I am but it does not define me. It’s like having blue eyes or grey hair.’

And there is marginalisation. In a world saturated with pornography, Viagra and sex scandals, asexuals – especially young ones – can feel as if they don’t officially exist.

David Jay remembers, 'When I was 13, all my friends were talking about sexuality. They sensed this mandate culturally that sexuality was a thing that they needed to be experiencing. I just internally, intrinsically didn’t understand it; I couldn’t relate to that experience. That’s something scary for a lot of asexuals.’

Anwen says, 'I do think that people focus too much nowadays on sexualising everything. I mean, people sell toilet roll nowadays with sexualised images. I’ve made it a mission in my life to let other people know it’s perfectly fine to be different.’

Some names have been changed