asexuality – Invisible Cake Society

aromanticism, asexuality, faith, interview, queer

Get to know a-spectrum Christians: Ell Huang

June 22, 2026June 25, 2026 jennadewitt

As aromantic- and/or asexual-spectrum Christians and Jesus-adjacent people, it can be hard to believe that we are not alone. There are few examples of us in queer Christian spaces speaking about our experiences, not to mention the broader queer or Christian/faith worlds in general. I want to do my part to change that with this website and connect you with more a-spectrum Christian and Christian-ish people across the internet. This summer, I’m hosting a short Q&A series to introduce us to you.

1. Hi! We’re so glad you’re here. Can you introduce yourself to the Invisible Cake Society with your name, pronouns, and any identity labels you feel like sharing?

Hello! I’m Ell Huang (she/they). I’m apothisexual (sex averse) asexual and aromantic.

If I were to get more particular, my desires can be summed up as hetero-queerplatonic (I’m interested in an opposite gender platonic life partner) and demi-sensual (emotional bond needed first, craves physical touch but not sexual).

Gender is a matter of curiosity for me right now.

I am also second generation immigrant Taiwanese American and autistic.

2. What do you like to spend your time doing, online or in person, creatively and/or professionally?

I LOVE engaging deeply with art such as books and movies. I love being in deep conversation about all sorts of ways stories are in conversation with one another, especially the fantasy, fairytale/folklore, Gothic, and horror genres. I also love writing, directing skits, and making videos.

3. When did you hear about aromanticism and asexuality, and when did you realize they described you?

The internet was helpful in connecting me to that language. In high school, I secretly was beginning to suspect “asexual” described me, but I didn’t confirm until my later years in college. Partially because, I figured, I was either “really good at purity” or the soulmate God made me to be with (that is, someone I would feel this attraction for) was someone I’d meet later as an adult. I also think I quietly identified as aromantic first because I felt I didn’t even have to think about sex until later…and then it switched.

Asexuality became easier to identify with, while it became more prominently existential-crisis-inducing to realize I did not feel romantic attraction either.

Very extraordinarily well-meaning friends would tell me “being asexual doesn’t mean you have to be aromantic!” but the scary thing was…I was also aromantic. I am both aromantic and asexual, and for my personal experiences, the Venn diagram comparing the two experiences is a circle.

4. What’s your faith background and how would you describe your relationship with religion/spirituality/faith today?

I’ll call myself agnostic because I’m being honest, and I’ll call myself religious because I’m being honest.

I grew up evangelical but left that behind. Today, I resonate a lot with liberation theology. I also have a lot of reverence for what I learn from my Catholic friends. In all honesty, “agnostic” is also an accurate descriptor for how I feel some days, though it’s loose. I still choose to believe in a loving Creator and an afterlife to hope for reunion with loved ones and a second chance at life, especially for those gone too soon, and all I can do is hope.

I also believe in ghosts and spirits. We can’t be the only ones “right” about that.

5. How has your a-spec identity influenced your personal faith?

The older I get, the more my asexuality feels like it’s changed my perspective on life and the faith in it. While I didn’t care for sex + romance growing up anyway, there was still this mysterious, elusive hope for it as something to be revealed in the future. There was this pretty, romanticized Tumblr graphic I still remember influencing me for years: “Imagine a guy so focused on God that the only reason he looked up to notice you was because he heard God say, ‘That’s her.'” See, there was once a time that felt so sweet and amazing to hear, to be romanticized like that, to be the answer to someone’s prayers like that, to be hyped up so positively behind your back like that!

Now, I think it’s dumb as rocks, and rather insulting to everyone involved: me, whoever that guy is, and God.

Rather, now I have moments that I’m grateful and in awe of friendships and their capacity to grow throughout life, but I also have moments where I still struggle with existential crises and platonic heartbreak and grief. There have been moments I’ve felt “called to celibacy” (genuinely), which I think aligned with a call to authenticity for myself; and other moments I’ve mistakenly thought it was my “calling” to save people from pain at the expense of myself, perhaps making the mistake of thinking it was on me as an asexual/aromantic with “the extra time,” to self-sacrifice like Jesus. (Is there an Ace Savior Complex? Just thought of that now. Might have to think more about that).

In honesty, it feels complex now. Because I desire more platonic physical touch and a queerplatonic partner, I no longer feel “called to celibacy” now, even though I believe it was true and helpful for a time then. So I’m in the process of deconstructing that.

The other side of it, though: I don’t see Jesus in a romantic light. We repeat countless metaphors for trying to capture a relationship with the Divine, and the romantic ones never really made sense to me personally because in that case, you’d be mad to find out he loves others. A romantic relationship metaphor feels too reductive and exclusive, not to mention derailing from the type of impact Jesus’s human life on earth was dedicated to. A parenting, teaching, mentor, ancestral, or queerplatonic friendship makes sense to me as a way to see Jesus without feeling cheated that, yes, Jesus loves other people too.

6. How has your a-spec identity affected your relationship with religious or spiritual communities?

Ooooh this is a complex one as well. I’ve had different experiences. The evangelical community is actually discriminatory toward asexuals once you’re in your 20s. People have this misconception that “the church accepts you the most!” and “asexuals are the puritans oppressing everyone!” but it’s only that we camouflage within purity culture in the beginning.

The flip side is harsh: all the shame of purity culture happens to us later, and possibly for the rest of our lives for some, for not experiencing sexual attraction. I have actually even been set up without my knowledge or consent with a stranger once, and a family member responded, “Why did I have to raise you” when I said no.

On the other hand, many of my closest friends are at the intersection of queer and religious(/adjacent), and I’ve been told my coming out has helped others come out as well.

In being able to de-center heteronormativity and amatonormativity, we’ve been able to breathe in much deeper platonic friendships and share the existential crises of life together. It’s been liberating to make friends wayyyy past the purity culture panic. And that “being way past this” doesn’t mean having sex, for me. That just means deconstructing the obsession with policing or prescribing (heteronormative) sex, and getting over these arbitrary rules of gender binary and gender separation that keep us from practicing empathy with one another to full capacity.

I also remember coming out to my pastor in our small progressive Asian American church (made up of outcasts, mostly second- or 1.5-generation immigrant young adults who got kicked out of evangelical immigrant churches). It was one of the best conversations I could have asked for, the way he immediately embraced this knowledge, respected my privacy, apologized for amatonormativity in the church once he noticed it, and actively took it upon himself to make language in church more inclusive of asexuality and platonic love.

7. How has your faith affected your relationship with the a-spec or larger LGBTQIA+ community?

Once again, complex! I don’t prioritize this struggle, but I have definitely been vehemently judged or misunderstood by other queer folks as inherently a traitor to the community just for also being personally religious. I’ve once been physically cornered and urged to renounce my belief in an afterlife to prove my leftism (an absurd type of situation I’d thought evangelicals only made up!). Ironically, this took place less than 24 hours after being physically cornered in a conservative place and urged to promise I would just say yes to the next man interested in me. One after the other, I was told it was just so unheard of and wrong for me to not have sex; then I was told it was so wrong for me to believe in heaven.

I don’t believe in hell, but I don’t think it’s fair to force people to renounce belief in heaven or reunion for those they lost either. I definitely understand where a lot of the rage comes from, I mean, fuck MAGA (and I know, it’s much older than that). But it’s also hard because I feel infantilized at times for believing in anything. I look foolish, head in the clouds, “clinging to childhood” for hoping in heaven. I’m still put in this position all over again, to choose between believing God loves me (does He? do They?) and choosing authenticity in who I am as a queer person.

It’s genuinely a tightrope to walk knowing and respecting people’s triggers, prioritizing people’s safety, and still being honest if it comes up that, yeah, I do believe in something, but no, it doesn’t involve divine punishment or religious exclusivity. Not everyone wants to associate with queer religious folks, and I have to respect the space because I know people want common ground in relationships, but at the same time I don’t like when people are just sitting there making themselves angry at the existence of me and demanding the end of all religion when I’m just lighting my incense saying a prayer in my room. I don’t like it any more than people just sitting there making themselves angry at the existence of my asexual queerplatonic life and demanding I still promise to submit to sex eventually. It’s white supremacist in itself too, to call for an end to all different people’s relationship to spirituality and the divine.

On the other hand! Again, you’d be amazed at how much queerness and faith intersect in my life. It was the active hospitality of queer Christians, in multiple instances spanning over ten years of my life, that embodied the hospitality of Christ to me and restored my faith.

Every time someone has somehow restored my faith, it was a queer person. Every single time I was in need, and someone gave me a safe place to stay, it was a queer person.

8. Does your a-spec identity impact your gender identity? Or vice versa?

I used to think not, but lately? Gender is curious for me. I think my asexuality has helped reframe a lot: when I usually want masculinity in my life, it’s not because I want sex with it, but because I want to wear it, embody it, express it myself. When I want masculine friends in my life, part of that is because I want different friends in general anyway, but another part of it might be because I want positive versions of masculinity in my life as I explore it. I think what I seek in a queerplatonic relationship is a brother figure for this reason, to bring out the genderqueer or masculine side of me in a supportive safe space with a friend. Not everyone gets that, though; it’s very different from the way people even on the ace spectrum describe sexual or romantic attraction to men. Even as I say this, I’m still exploring it, so I know that could change.

As far as my socialized gender goes, growing up I was steeped in the idea that girls were romantic and boys were sexual, and un-curious folks might brush off one aspect of my identity as “that’s just being a woman.”

But a) I remain both asexual and aromantic in adulthood as a grown woman, and b) women are sexual too; they’re just shamed or endangered for it any time they express it.

The lack of safe spaces to explore didn’t make me asexual; it just made it harder to find out I was asexual. On the flip side, if I were born and socialized as a boy, it might have also been hard to find out about asexuality because compulsory sexuality so forcefully defines what it means to be a man. This might parallel the flip side of what purity culture does for asexual Christians, the camouflage and then the vulnerability.

9. What should all a-spec Christians know?

You’re not the same as purity culture, you’re not lacking in passion just because it looks different, and authenticity is never the problem. Authenticity to who you are is never contradictory to the life God made you to have. You did not just “abort” a planned soulmate by coming out as a-spec. You did not miss out on love for saying no. You can pursue love of any kind, forge relationships of any kind, and the “right person” or “right people” would never be anyone who thrives off of your suffering/stifling for life. You also don’t have to self-sacrifice. You are whole, with a whole life, too.

We are not holier than anyone else. But neither are we any less whole.

10. What do you want the larger affirming LGBTQIA and ally Christian community to know about a-spec Christians?

One way to support a-spec Christians: I’d like us to recognize and catch singlism when we hear it. For example, notice when small groups are created to try to foster deeper fellowships, and “singles” is automatically associated with younger age demographics, while “married” is associated with mature adulthood. Or when we hear sayings like “some are single for a season, some are single for a reason!” which implies singleness as either a test or a punishment, either way a negative temporary pending status to ideally relieve. Or when our automatic response to a single adult is to pray for them to end their singleness quickly.

Another thing to know: no, I actually would not thrive in a nunnery. And there is something weird about assuming that just because I am aroace and Christian, I must by default be selfless and self-sacrificing, in a way not expected of straight people. It’s an echo of the Side A/Side B “Are gay and intersex people called to celibacy” debates all over again.

But this goes hand in hand with how celibacy/singleness itself does deserve a lot more respect as a valid, informed, personal human choice too. People also don’t owe anyone sex in order to be a fully realized mature human being. Some people genuinely would thrive in a nunnery, and they deserve better than just being someone’s “puritanical” virgin joke punchline.

These identities are not the same, and all must be separated from purity culture. But the way we treat each of them is all connected in the larger conversation on deconstructing amatonormativity.

11. At Invisible Cake Society, we highlight experiences that have been erased or seem invisible to those outside of them. What’s your favorite way to show your a-spectrum Pride?

I wear a black ring on my middle finger every day! I also like to show queer art and flags in the background of my videos sometimes.

12. Do you have a favorite example of a-spec representation (whether explicitly stated or not) in media, books, public figures, theater, etc.? What about them resonated with you?

Canon: Thơ (from the short film Thơ directed by Heather Muriel Nguyễn) incredibly resonated with me. She makes her sex averseness clear to her romantic partner, that it’s more like doing someone else’s dirty dishes, but is slowly still pressured into “doing someone else’s dishes” on demand anyway, if she’s going to achieve romantic intimacy. I really felt compelled by the short’s use of dreamlike visual metaphor, vibrant colorful lighting, and tense music to creatively emphasize how such an experience of feeling expected to “earn” love by pushing through trauma would feel like. I resonated with her experience of educating others (flipping the script where she was once “educated” on “universal” things) and slowly finding that still not everyone who initially seems to accept asexuality actually respects it. Been there. And I resonated with her breaking free.

Heather’s film Thơ can be watched here: https://youtu.be/fg3p0kxWD4o?si=OtoZ7HZAlG-lj4i6

Headcanon: Wednesday Addams (Wednesday, but also The Addams Family + The Addams Family Values). Come on, what an ace icon! I love that she is in direct contrast with her doting, most passionately entangled loving parents, and they all as a family fiercely love and accept each other so unapologetically. Wednesday also shows her care for others differently and I really appreciate that she does not have to change that. In the show Wednesday, she is set up like most stone-cold protagonists to “learn how to love,” but then subverts expectations with platonic examples every time (while shutting down the boy who insists she can’t say no to him). In fact, in Season 1 when her arc involves letting herself cry (where she once thought it was weakness), one of the rare times she does show the most intense tearful emotion for someone else is not for anything romantic but when she’s rescuing Thing from the brink of death.

For me, when I get insecure about whether my asexuality or aromanticism is just naivete, “innocence,” or “fear of intimacy,” I look at how Wednesday doesn’t give a fuck. She embodies “It’s badass to know what you want and who you are.” And she also embodies all this while protecting her very enthusiastically allosexual parents and queer friends too.

13. Anything else you want readers to know?

Demisexuality isn’t purity culture either! Though I’d be so fascinated and curious to hear how demisexual Christians in particular have deconstructed purity. It’s different from my own apothisexual experience, and just would be cool to learn from!

Along those lines though: I feel like there’s a strange micro-expectation of all asexuals to turn out demisexual “if you just meet the right person,” and it’s important to know that that’s not everyone, nor is it as simple as that. And representation of one experience doesn’t cancel out others. Like with the Addams family, we can be very different but all valid!

Also: people can stop commenting, “but you don’t have to be aromantic!” lol I know. But I simply am.

14. Where can they follow your work online?

I started The Creator’s Apprentice, my semi-spiritual, film-inspired blog, as a huge movie lover and as someone who sees God in the strange and unusual. I was frustrated with how surface-level or dismissive of real issues so many evangelical Christian blogs were, and I wanted to create an alternative where faith was not threatened by good art but often shown to be enhanced or deepened by it. Gradually, the cinema-inspired reflections have become more about relating fantasy/horror to my asexuality/aromanticism, though I am still also open about my faith in them.

The Creator’s Apprentice: worrydollsandfloatinglights.wordpress.com
Bluesky: @nocturnalxlight
Instagram: @nocturnalxlight
TikTok: @ellmerryspinster

asexuality, faith, interview, queer

Get to know a-spectrum Christians: Kristen Tallau

June 16, 2026June 21, 2026 jennadewitt

Hi! We’re so glad you’re here. Can you introduce yourself to the Invisible Cake Society with your name, pronouns, any identity labels you feel like sharing?
Hello! Thanks for having me! I’m Kristen, pronouns are she/her/hers. I identify as asexual, biromantic, and sapphic, which is basically a fancy way of saying I’m not sexually attracted to anyone, but I am romantically attracted to anyone, and chances are it’ll be a woman.
What do you like to spend your time doing, online or in person, creatively and/or professionally?
Well, my day job tends to be crazy at times. I work as a video engineer in the corporate conference world, so my days can be anywhere from 4 to 18 hours long. When I have a day off or time to myself, I love baking, especially bread. (Yes, I have watched every series of Great British Bake Off, multiple times! And bread week is always my favourite!) I also enjoy reading, mostly sci fi and adventure for fiction, and I’ve recently started getting back into playing Switch.
So if anyone has some game recs, I’d love to hear!
When did you hear about aromanticism and asexuality, and when did you realize they described you?
It was during Pride month of 2018. I was seeing posts from friends about it, and it was the first time I had been seeing people posting about the LGBTQIA+ community with the IA added. The I was easy enough to guess, but I was curious about the A. So, I googled it. And I started reading all these stories from people describing asexuality and their experiences with it, and I realised I was reading about my experience too. Took awhile longer to realise the biromantic and sapphic labels, but finally having something to describe what I had (not) experienced my whole life was so wonderful.
What’s your faith background and how would you describe your relationship with religion/spirituality/faith today?
I grew up Independent Baptist. Like not quite Duggar-level fundamentalist, but not super far off, either. I had friends who were IBLP (Institute in Basic Life Principles). It got better when my family started attending a Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) church when I was at university. It got even better after I left the SBC. I still follow Jesus, and I would still say I’m a Christian, but it’s the Jesus of the gospels (rather than white Republican Jesus) who loves and welcomes queer people, rather than shutting them out. My faith is still evolving, but it’s still there.
How has your a-spec identity influenced your personal faith?
It’s made it more inclusive. Realising my own queerness after 30 years of believing being queer is a sin forced me to reexamine a lot of other parts of my faith and expand it to include a wider spectrum of people.
How has your a-spec identity affected your relationship with religious or spiritual communities?
To be honest, it’s made me more cautious. Being primarily from super fundie spaces means people will misunderstand you, mishear you, and think they know exactly what you’re talking about, and basically anything that ends in the term “sexuality” is generally frowned upon. I was telling a friend at a former church about an interaction I’d had on AVEN’s website, and suddenly one of the elders of the church had run up to the table and interjected with, “You know there won’t be homosexuals in heaven, right? You know that, right?” And then just as quickly ran off. Like, dude, what? Now I wait for people within a church or religious space to prove themselves first before even telling them about my orientation.
How has your faith affected your relationship with the a-spec or larger LGBTQIA+ community?
If I’m going to truly say that everyone is made imago Dei, that is, in the image of God, that includes all the diversity and variation we see. And that includes the not: the not sexually attracted, the not romantically attracted, the not gender affiliated. It does not make any of us less-than. I see Jesus speaking positively about the queer people of his time, and teaching that sex and marriage will not be a thing in the kingdom. Inclusion means including those for whom something may not apply.
Does your a-spec identity impact your gender identity? Or vice versa?
Not really. I identify as female, and always have. Realising my asexuality didn’t affect that. Maybe it will in the future, but I have other things to dwell on for now.
What should all a-spec Christians know?
We are not broken. We are not partial human beings because we aren’t attracted to others in ways they might expect. For my fellow millennial a-specs who are also purity culture survivors, this is especially important.
What do you want the larger affirming LGBTQIA+ and ally Christian community to know about a-spec Christians?
Our faith is not contingent on our identity, and vice versa. And while so many churches use marriage as an illustration of the “Christian walk,” there are so many more ways to be inclusive of those of us who may not ever marry. Community is the support everyone needs; it just shows up differently for us.
At Invisible Cake Society, we highlight experiences that have been erased or seem invisible to those outside of them. What’s your favorite way to show your a-spectrum Pride?
I’m a hobbyist baker, so I lean into the cake and garlic bread tropes a lot. Bread actually is my favourite thing to bake, so it makes it easy. It doesn’t necessarily lead to conversations about being a-spec, but when it does, it’s a fun conversation, and either way, you have something to snack on with friends! And who doesn’t love that?
Do you have a favorite example of a-spec representation (whether explicitly stated or not) in media, books, public figures, theater, etc.? What about them resonated with you?
One is Elsa, from Frozen. Also I high-key relate to her wanting to be alone once everything goes to hell, but that’s beside the point. She’s not your typical Disney princess, looking for her Prince Charming. She’s dealing with learning how she’s not actually broken by being different from others. She’s telling off her sister, Anna, for being boy crazy (I relate to that SO hard), and Elsa is more concerned with doing what she needed to do to be queen rather than finding her own person.

Another is Dr. Spencer Reid, from Criminal Minds. Granted, I haven’t watched the entire series (it’s so dark!), so I’m not sure if he’s ever presented as actually a-spec, but it does seem to be his thing, even though he does have partners here and there. As someone who’s asexual but also biromantic, it’s great to me to see someone for whom that distinction also seems to exist.
Anything else you want readers to know?
Trust people when they say they’re aspec. Ask questions to learn. Just like anyone who says they’re gay/trans/etc., please believe us when we say what we are. Trust us. We know.
Where can they follow your work online?
I’m a cohost on the Where Do We Go From Here? podcast, on the No Hard Feelings segment once a month. Personally, I’m mostly active on Threads and Instagram, where my handle on both is @krtall. I also have a baking Insta @aceofbakes24 where it’s just photos of my baking.

asexuality, faith, interview

Get to know a-spectrum Christians: Paul Willis

June 6, 2026June 21, 2026 jennadewitt

Hi! We’re so glad you’re here. Can you introduce yourself to the Invisible Cake Society with your name, pronouns, any identity labels you feel like sharing?
So honoured to be invited to take part in this! I’m Paul, he/him. I identify currently as asexual—more specifically navigating the spaces of greysexuality, aegosexual expression, and demisexuality (where sexual attraction has only ever flickered into place after a deep, secure emotional connection is formed). I am very aware of an aesthetic and emotional attraction to women, though I’m still figuring out whether heteroromantic or aromantic describes the romantic side of that best!
What do you like to spend your time doing, online or in person, creatively and/or professionally?
My day job is a civil servant in the UK Government, helping and supporting people into employment. When I’m not at work, I spend creative time playing piano and viola (not at the same time!). I am also deeply passionate about exploring the landscape around me; I love walking in nature and visiting medieval churches, finding a lot of peace in their history, spirituality and architecture. I’m a fan of movies and TV drama and documentaries, and I’m an avid reader—mostly non-fiction around spirituality and the faith journey, but I’m also a fan of the Sister Fidelma mysteries by Peter Tremayne.
When did you hear about aromanticism and asexuality, and when did you realize they described you?
For many years, I carried the weight of a complex relationship history. My first marriage lasted seven years and bore us two children, but ultimately broke down under the weight of several painful factors, including the impact of a late miscarriage. My second marriage—a blended family with teenage step-children—also lasted seven years, but eventually just faded away and I found myself single again.

It was a few years after this when I finally encountered the term asexuality and it felt like a profound shift. Realizing that this described me was the missing piece of the puzzle; suddenly, my entire relationship history fell into place. Looking back through that lens, the long-standing confusion melted away, allowing me to view my past marriages and my whole life journey with a deep sense of peace, clarity, and self-compassion.
What’s your faith background and how would you describe your relationship with religion/spirituality/faith today?
I was brought up in a village in Kent in the UK by Christian parents and attended our local Baptist church. It was pretty standard evangelical stuff—two services on Sundays, midweek prayer meetings, and youth groups. It gave me a very structured, traditional foundation. In my early 20s, I spent two pivotal years working at Lee Abbey—a Christian hotel, retreat, and conference centre on the North Devon coast run by a community of volunteers. That experience was foundational for my spiritual direction and journey, opening me to wide diversity of faith traditions, worship styles and spiritual practices. After leaving that environment, I went through a long, 15-year period of secularism—wandering through a spiritual desert of deconstruction where the old answers no longer held up. It wasn’t until 2019 that the seeds of something new began to take root. Today, I identify as a contemplative Christian, finding my spiritual home in a very personal, experiential blend of traditions. My practice is grounded as a regular attender at my local Quaker meeting, beautifully woven together with Celtic Christian spirituality and an Open and Relational theology. I’m very comfortable with mystery and prefer having questions that cannot be answered than answers that cannot be questioned. I am a spiritual wanderer!
How has your a-spec identity influenced your personal faith?
As someone who didn’t identify as ace until their 50s it’s interesting to look back and realise that even when I assumed I was heterosexual I always considered myself an ally to the LGBTQIA+ community. Not in an outspoken way, but just quietly aligning myself with the view that love is love, etc. I was raised in that teaching that said the Bible condemns same-sex relationships, but I could never quite accept that; and when I was going through my teens and early 20s—school, college, and even at Lee Abbey—as I formed friendships with people who were openly queer and got to know them as people, I could not view them as the “deviants” I had been raised to see in, you know, that “Love the sinner, hate the sin” stance.
How has your a-spec identity affected your relationship with religious or spiritual communities?
I think it’s put me at odds with some of my friends from that time at Lee Abbey. We’re all still in touch, 30 years on, online and through the occasional reunions. But I’m very respectful and honouring of other people’s faith journeys and positions. I’m aware that some still attend quite evangelical churches, but others I’ve chatted to have been on similar journeys to mine and are now also much more explorers of faith and so are comfortable when I say I’m asexual.
How has your faith affected your relationship with the a-spec or larger LGBTQIA+ community?
I’ll be honest, as a quiet introvert I’ve never really had a close relationship with those larger groups and communities. I’ll support and promote them on social media, but I’ve never been one for being loudly out and proud or attending big Pride events. My advocacy is much more quiet and personal.
Does your a-spec identity impact your gender identity? Or vice versa?
I don’t feel it impacts my gender identity directly—I’m comfortable identifying as a cisgender man. However, it definitely impacted how I viewed my gender roles. Growing up, there is a lot of societal pressure on men to be hyper-focused on dating, pursuing, and sex. Realising I am a-spec allowed me to let go of those rigid cultural expectations of what “being a man” is supposed to look like, which was incredibly liberating.
What should all a-spec Christians know?
The ultimate message of the Gospel is that God is Love. This is stated so many times in the Bible, especially in the New Testament and the Gospels. What all a-spec Christians should know is that you’re loved exactly as you are. Being true to yourself, learning to love yourself, and loving your neighbour—without the requirement of conforming to amative or romantic norms—is the very essence of living out that divine love.
What do you want the larger affirming LGBTQIA and ally Christian community to know about a-spec Christians?
A-spec Christians are just as valid—and valued—as anyone else.
At Invisible Cake Society, we highlight experiences that have been erased or seem invisible to those outside of them. What’s your favorite way to show your a-spectrum Pride?
Because I’m an introvert, my favourite way to show Pride isn’t through big public displays, but through quiet authenticity. For me, that looks like embracing my passions and leaning into the quiet places where I feel most connected. I find my resetting spaces in nature and through my twice-yearly retreats in the Yorkshire Pennines. It’s about being comfortable in my own skin, sharing my story when it matters, and creating spaces where others feel permitted to step away from the pressure of compulsory romance. Taking part in this interview is a big step in visibility for me!
Do you have a favorite example of a-spec representation (whether explicitly stated or not) in media, books, public figures, theater, etc.? What about them resonated with you?
To be honest, I haven’t come across many explicit examples of a-spec representation in the media I consume. However, as an avid reader and TV viewer, I always find myself drawn to stories that highlight deep, loyal friendships, intellectual companionship, or partnerships where the emotional bond is the anchor of the story, rather than standard Hollywood romance.
Anything else you want readers to know?
Just that it is never too late to discover who you are. Finding the words for my identity in my 50s didn’t change me; it just gave me the map to understand the landscape I’d been walking my whole life. If you’re in a spiritual or personal desert right now, have patience with yourself. The wanderings are part of the journey.
Where can they follow your work online?
I keep a fairly quiet profile online these days, but I keep a private Instagram account I update frequently, and you can occasionally find my spiritual ponderings on my Substack. All my links are here: https://linktr.ee/pcwillis.

aromanticism, asexuality, essays, interview

Get to know a-spectrum Christians: Beks Roen

May 13, 2026June 21, 2026 jennadewitt

Today we have aroace actor and writer Beks Roen!

Hi! We’re so glad you’re here. Can you introduce yourself to the Invisible Cake Society with your name, pronouns, any identity labels you feel like sharing?

Thanks for having me! I’m Beks Roen, they/he. I go by Beks and Roen interchangeably, and am transmasculine, non-binary and aroace!

What do you like to spend your time doing, online or in person, creatively and/or professionally?

For recharge time, I love reading, seeing theatre (especially outdoor Shakespeare), hosting friends for dinner, and watching DropoutTV with loved ones. Professionally, I love writing, acting, and anything stage combat: whether I’m performing, choreographing, or teaching.

When did you hear about aromanticism and asexuality, and when did you realize they described you?

I think I first heard about asexuality and aromanticism during the pandemic shutdown. I’d only just met a couple folks who taught me about polyamory and genderqueerness a year before, so I went right back to them after some googling and talked through it. I remember reading some PDF of “examples of shared/common ace experiences” and going, “oh. Wait. This explains a lot. Oh no how am I gonna handle this?? Uhhhh, call friends!”

What’s your faith background and how would you describe your relationship with religion/spirituality/faith today?

My dad is a United Methodist pastor, so I grew up moving every couple of years and having a real rough time with parsonage housing. But my parents never pushed church. If I had homework or a Sunday matinee, it was okay for me to do my work first and not go to church. I’m forever grateful for their grace. I still use UMC language, but I’d describe myself as more “spiritual not religious.” I find incredible, powerful, transformational spirituality in theatre, which has a ton of structural and functional overlap with institutional religion. Theatre and writing are my spiritual disciplines because creativity and co-imagination are such powerful ways to participate with the divine, however you label it.

How has your a-spec identity influenced your personal faith?

I don’t think it has. Realizing I’m aroace didn’t change my relationship to faith. I see aspec ideals showing up in my faith: I’ve become very community-focused, and am grounding more and more faith in people. I meditate, tap, pray, and do yoga every day, which have been super supportive spiritual practices for me (especially doing yoga every evening with my mom). As I’ve accepted myself and allowed for more ambiguity, I’ve encountered more and more unexpected blessings. Timelines, support, new friends; aligning in ways I couldn’t control, but am intensely grateful for.

How has your a-spec identity affected your relationship with religious or spiritual communities?

My family has been incredibly supportive, which I constantly celebrate. Most of the time, though I get the blank stare of confusion more often than not, folks have been open to listening and hearing. Even in the Midwest, whether it be church or theatre, I encounter more curiosity than animosity. I’m sure a part of that open response has to do with my white privilege. It’s a lot of 101 conversations, to the point where I made a Google Doc with links to all the educators I learned from (Angela Chen, Yasmin Benoit, Ashabi at Ace in Grace, Cody Daigle-Orians at Ace Dad Advice, etc.). I’ve found a lot of support in theatre spaces, with the occasional pushback. Case in point, I’ve been hired to play an aroace Romeo at Advice to the Players this summer (July 31-August 9, 2026)! The director and team and several audience members have been incredibly supportive and excited to follow this adventure. Out of all the conversations I’ve had about it over the past year, only two people have been outright aphobic about it. Most are curious and excited to see what happens!

How has your faith affected your relationship with the a-spec or larger LGBTQIA+ community?

I see the anti-Blackness in the ace community and my heart breaks. We can do better. We should do better. For white Christian aces: Jesus calls us to do better. Jesus’ top two commandments were about love. We are to love each other, not slam a neighbor for supporting the community.

Does your a-spec identity impact your gender identity? Or vice versa?

I found asexuality first, which domino-ed into aromanticism and gender discovery. I used to be really focused on trying to figure this out. Where the delineation was. Trying to define each container of each label I wear. But as I continue reading more from aspec folks like Ashabi (Ace in Grace), Angela Chen, Cody Daigle-Orians and others, the more I’ve relaxed and realized that for me, I can let it be a gradient. Where a variety of things are present, but there’s no clear lines between each.

What should all a-spec Christians know?

You’re loved. You’re not alone.

What do you want the larger affirming LGBTQIA and ally Christian community to know about a-spec Christians?

Faith and aspec identity are not mutually exclusive. And LGBTQ+ rights and aspec identity are not mutually exclusive. We’re here, queer, biblically accurate.

At Invisible Cake Society, we highlight experiences that have been erased or seem invisible to those outside of them. What’s your favorite way to be visible?

Theatre!! I literally started my own production company, Roguish Goblin Stories, to produce shows that highlight the trans/aspec Shakespeare resonances that feel obvious to me, and produce original adventures that center trans and aspec leads. My writing absolutely supports this as well, but the physical impact of co-experiencing an aspec character’s journey in person deepens the connection way beyond my writing alone. When I produced my first original production, Boy-ish, I had multiple conversations with audience members afterwards about the two main characters: one was aroace, the other was non-binary. The show had basically nothing to do with their labels, but it still opened people’s horizons up and made the trans and aspec audience members feel seen for the first time in their lives. That’s why I write, and produce what I write in person whenever possible: to remind people that they’re loved and not alone.

Do you have a favorite example of a-spec representation (whether explicitly stated or not) in media, books, public figures, theater, etc.? What about them resonated with you?

Honestly, as much as I see aspec resonances over and over again in Shakespeare and other classics (Romeo, Mercutio, Orpheus, Hamlet, Benedick and Beatrice, Jacques, Coriolanus, etc.) I also see aspec love between Sam Gamgee and Frodo from Lord of the Rings. Their love is so deeply, beautifully queerplatonic. Their dedication to each other. Right from the start: Frodo’s panic when Sam tries to swim after him as the Fellowship fractures, even though Sam can’t swim. Sam’s line on Mount Doom always makes me weep: “I can’t carry the Ring, but I can carry you.” We need more relationships like Frodo and Sam in media, which is a huge part of why I became a writer.

13. Anything else you want readers to know?

I’d love to see more people, aspec or not, celebrating Soul Ace Day and supporting Black aspec folks. There’s a chat with the founders here that I found really helpful. We’re in life together, folks. You’re loved. You’re not alone.

14. Where can we follow your work online?

My website is beksroen.org, where you can find links to my books, socials, etc.
Roguish Goblin Stories is where I’m building my own production company: subscribers get recordings of all the shows I produce!
I run my own Substack (free and paid options) at https://beksroen.substack.com/
My first album of music released May 9!

allyship, asexuality, faith, queer

The point of all this

November 27, 2025 jennadewitt

I want to be absolutely clear: The end goal is no more nonaffirming churches. Not a “diversity of thought” that’s just rewriting purity codes. Not a “range of opinions” with a variety of ways to exclude and dehumanize and tolerate “separate but equal.” Not a bare minimum. Not an “I love you but.”

Whether these churches accept correct, just, God-honoring theology or simply fade into history as factories of shame and harm and fake-nice, the collective liberation vision does not include nonaffirming theologies. Affirming theology *is* correct theology. We have beat around the bush long enough.

The mainline squandered opportunity after opportunity to draw that line, and we’re seeing the fruit of that, but we’re also seeing the fruit of the risk, the courage, the willingness to say NO to fence-riding and big-tent and “inclusive of all, the marginalized and the powers behind marginalization.”

In Christ, gender is not a factor for whether a marriage is holy, for whether sex is sinful, for whether someone is qualified to lead, serve, parent, teach, adopt, or write, for when passion is lust or love is healthy. That doesn’t mean we abandon discernment, but that gender isn’t relevant to it.

We are uncompromising in that. Lesbian, gay, bi/pan/+, trans/nonbinary/genderqueer, intersex, asexual/aromantic/agender, and all other kinds of queerness are not just permitted but *required* for the full reflection of the image of God and the accurate representation of the Kingdom come on earth.

Churches that factor in gender to who is permitted to do what are not only harmful, even deadly, for a small subset of the population. That is too minimizing. They are lacking in faithfulness. They are missing out on our gifts and our presence, but they are also missing out on the real, true God.

Conviction isn’t the enemy. Just like how becoming affirming isn’t “throwing out sexual ethics” or “there are no rules” or “rewriting history/the Bible,” it also isn’t an accommodation we’re asking for, a way to boost your Good Person points, or a secondary issue. It’s accurate, correct, right.

Have the courage to say so. Have the willingness to exclude the intolerant beliefs and opinions while honoring the need to listen, learn, grow, influence, and teach. It’s not about excluding individuals; it’s about setting our doctrinal truth, our policies, our reason for being.

Conservatives will panic: “See, the crazy liberals want to erase us! They want to eradicate us! They discriminate against us! The intolerant left!” Yes. I do. I want to erase the possibility that any queer kid grows up thinking God hates, Jesus is ashamed, or the Spirit would take away their joy.

I want to eradicate queer death, suffering, rejection, and homelessness. I do discriminate against bigotry and hate and fear-peddling propaganda lies. I want the world to stop tolerating violence, inequality, and terror in the name of “religious freedom,” “thought diversity,” and “broad umbrellas.”

We refuse anything less as the destination. The future is one where every church is practicing and preaching the truth, the life, the freedom, and the blessing that is only reflected with full queer welcome, inclusion, affirmation, belonging, and leadership at every level.

allyship, aromanticism, asexuality, Poetry, queer

Occurrences

November 6, 2025 jennadewitt

It occurs to me tonight to put my rainbow grocery bag in the trunk. Not just because that’s where it belongs, but to not give anyone an excuse to take out their religion on my car window.

It occurs to me that if I were in a redder county, I would never have left it visible to begin with.

It occurs to me on a Walmart run after work that I should have taken off my company staff badge with the Pride flag on the back while walking alone in the dark.

It occurs to me that in other places, I would never have been allowed to put that sticker on my identification to begin with.

It occurs to me to move my black ace ring to my left ring finger in a protective lie, signaling to the men of the crowd that I am another man’s property. If they don’t respect my humanity, they may respect the rights of possession—or at least the fear of violating them.

It occurs to me that I have the privilege of safety in being gender conforming, able to chameleon my way into invisibility.

It occurs to me that I have to constantly remind people I know what I’m talking about, that my experiences are erased, that I am here too, that we are not new or a trend or a bonus feature.

It occurs to me that I do not require documents to be changed, or medicine to be seen as myself, or a search for my literal voice with the help of lessons.

It occurs to me that I am likely the only one you know. That when I speak, I must point to many others like me but not like me, so you have a broader view.

It occurs to me that I occupy a space of assumed privilege as others explain marginalization that I live every day myself. Amusing at times, but mostly frustrating.

It occurs to me that my intersections give me advantages to steward so others will be heard.

It occurs to me that most people don’t have to wonder if their friends, family, church, or job will disown them over basic identity facts. If they confess who they are, will they receive a birthday card this year, will they have any references for their job applications, will they be welcomed home at Christmas, will they still have an emergency contact?

It occurs to me that others have faced far worse: Will they still have a home, food, a functional body, their lives?

It occurs to me that there is safety in numbers, and my numbers are small, often just me and my carabiner and my rainbow T-shirt.

It occurs to me that an ally up the mountain was murdered for less.

It occurs to me that I can change my shirt, but others can’t change their voice, their government, their bones.

It occurs to me that some allies will only care to the point that it is comfortable to be with us. Our humanity is an issue on which they agree to disagree with friends and colleagues and those who can help their careers.

It occurs to me I must have patience for the indoctrinated.

It occurs to me that I don’t have the tolerance to wait.

It occurs to me, too, that even the wait is privilege. Others, our youngest, are running out of time.

asexuality, essays

Answering questions about asexuality

June 27, 2025June 18, 2025 jennadewitt

Aphobia is often rooted in intentional ignorance but contains actual legitimate questions non-hateful people have, but are now afraid to ask after seeing the responses to the aphobic person, which defeats the goal of educating. It’s time to address some of these questions in a safe and open place: here in the Invisible Cake Society!

First: We can generally tell the difference between questions asked respectfully and humbly and questions asked to bully, sea lion, and troll. We’re not perfect, and tone on the Internet is hard, especially when emotionally activated, but be encouraged that educators/activists want you to learn!

Now, let’s get going:

I’m into girls, but I’m also on the aromantic spectrum and asexual. What does that even mean? How can I be all of those!? Well, queerness is a big wibbly wobbly blob of grey areas, not neat boxes. Getting free of boxes is the point. Labels help us connect and communicate. They help us feel less alone, find resources, and form community to work on shared goals and experience belonging in a world that seeks to erase us.

We hear about sexual orientation, but there are others, usually but not always aligned. Romance, platonic, aesthetic, etc.

Also frequency: never, rare, average, or only in specific circumstances.

So if you rarely experience attraction to girls not boys, and that attraction is mostly nonsexual…

You may be sapphic asexual or ace lesbian, and possibly somewhere on the aromantic spectrum as well.

We then have favorability, indifference, aversion, and repulsion to specific behaviors.

This is different than sex positivity, neutrality, and negativity that are about attitudes toward sex in society.

Chart comparing various attitudes and preferences

Also generalized desire: you may want to experience kissing but not have a specific person or gender you’re particularly drawn to.

And biological libido/hormones.

All different independent but related things.

Attraction is a word we use with magnets. A fridge door is magnetic even when empty, but if you hold a magnet close, it will react with attraction. Aka, a gay person is still gay even when single or “not getting laid.” Same for straight or bi or pan, etc.

And vice versa, an asexual person is still ace even if they have a sexual partner. That person could be the rare exception of sexual attraction, or someone they love in other ways, or just a fun partner to have a good time with. That’s their business, not yours. Regardless, they are still ace.

We know people can still be straight (and we not only assume it but strictly enforce it as normal) even if they haven’t had sex or dated. But there’s a pressure to prove we aren’t broken or defective so we conform to the norm of romance and sex.

This is broadly called amatonormativity (amato, as in amorous, + normative). Amatonormativity means: the assumption that all people aspire to or have a romantic and sexual relationship at the center of their lives. It is the measure of not only whether you’re similar to others, but your desirability and attractiveness aesthetically and platonically, your success and maturity as an adult, and your character to be a good employee or leader.

“Virginity” is a conservative purity culture term that both honors the purity of a young person (let’s be real, teen girls) and is used as a barb to insult anyone past that “expiration date.”

This is true regardless of your thoughts on abstinence, which is waiting for marriage to have sex. Conservatives and self-proclaimed radical feminists and mainstream culture agree that people without a romantic and sexual relationship by an arbitrary age are societal rejects, undesirable, or sick.

The only part that differs is whether that relationship must be a marriage. Whether it is a hookup buddy or a covenant life partner in the eyes of God, society generally agrees not having one is enough to get you pity and “just get laid” or “needs a girlfriend/boyfriend” comments.

Say you have never or, worse, don’t want, such a relationship, and they lose their minds. How!? Isn’t a romantic and sexual partner a requirement for maturity, health, success, and personal survival??? No, it isn’t.

That’s why while everyone should have the legal right to have romance and sex with any gender, sex and romance are not a “right” you can demand from others. The gender of your partner(s) should not be constrained by law AND ALSO you are not entitled to that relationship from another gender or individual.

This is the consistency of consent. It goes both ways: There is no sexual or romantic liberation without the choice to refuse romance and/or sex. If we’re only fighting for the right to choose the gender of our partner but otherwise chained to the same stigma and shame, that’s not liberation.

If we’re only fighting for the right to choose the gender of our partner but otherwise chained to the same stigma and shame, that’s not liberation.

And yes, I don’t just mean stigma and shame over having had sex or romance but also over NOT having had it or not desiring it.

This liberation benefits not only aro and ace people who are less likely to have partners but EVERYONE who is single, whether by choice or not, divorced or widowed, etc.

In case you haven’t read stats on that lately, that’s roughly half the population. And many of those singles aren’t actively looking for a partner, whether they were partnered before or not.

So are asexual people “just straight”? No. Some may have hetero attractions, some have gay or bi or pan to describe their attractions, and some are just aro ace with no attractions. And some are a combination. Remember, people are a wibbly wobbly mush.
Is orientation about how much, or the type, or the quality of sex we’ve had or not had? Nope. Attraction and behavior are independent topics. Related, yes. Entirely the same? Not at all.
Like magnets, you can change the shortcut terms you use to describe yourself at any time. Maybe in your 20s you were positive that you were a straight, female, sporty, extroverted premed student. Maybe in your 40s now, you are a bi, nonbinary, bookish, ambivert therapist. Labels change! Growth!

Learn more here

asexuality, essays, faith

Asexuality and the gospel of liberation

June 21, 2025June 18, 2025 jennadewitt

It makes sense why queer Christian theology is often heavily sexually centered, given our history, but the best queer theologians balance it with ace inclusion. Not just as a footnote, but as a core goal. The point is ending amatonormativity and gaining collective liberation, which takes all of us—of every gender, orientation, relationship style, race, ability, culture, and more. Rightfully practiced, Christianity—with the words of Jesus at the center—drives us forward to this goal.

Jesus is as clear of an aromantic asexual Christian role model as we could ever ask for! Embracing found family and breaking gender and class binaries are foundational to his life. There’s just no way to read the gospels and come away with a factual interpretation that centers amatonormativity. That doesn’t stop the global church (now or historically), of course, because institutions and patriarchal power structures are best served by amatonormativity and all that comes with it.

When women are free to earn their own money, when singles are equal to married people, when everyone has the same rights and respect regardless of gender or orientation or relationship status or race or disability, we can liberate ourselves from the oppression that power structures are built on. That’s gospel, as Christlike as it gets, but it’s the exact opposite of what those in power want because it would require true humility, servant leadership, the Beatitudes, sacrifice, and loving others as themselves. It would be for the benefit of all, including themselves, but there’s nothing that scares them more than the risk and exposure of vulnerability.

I truly believe the only way forward is shame resilience, tolerance of vulnerability, finding belonging within, and developing healthy, boundaried empathy that leads to freedom beyond anything gatekeeping or virtue signals or scarcity can achieve. That’s work each of us can do, whether by reading books by Brene Brown, Aundi Kolber, and Matthias Roberts; or doing therapy one on one or as a part of a couple or in a group; or listening to podcasts, lectures, or wise friends and leaders who can guide us there.

When we liberate our minds and hearts, we are free to see others who are unimaginably different than us as a gift to the Body of Christ. We aren’t threatened or defensive because we honor what other identities and perspectives can bring that we can’t.

With the fruit of the Spirit as our guide, we lead from a common goal that all will be free: asexual and allosexual, aromantic and alloromantic, queer and allocishet, and more. Single or partnered, parents and childfree, living alone or with others, sexually celibate or abstinent or solo or partnered or open or any combination. Everyone.

But we can’t get there while asexuality (and aromanticism and our respective spectrums) remain erased and invisible in the church. We are vital to the liberation of Christ. We queer queer theology. We challenge norms in ways that rewriting gender rules alone can’t. We defy expectations and push beyond affirming marriage or ordination or any one label or issue in our unique ways, as all letters do if given proper consideration. But for asexuality, it isn’t as simple as churches might think. We are going to ask more than a flag at Pride or a language change, but a mentality shift that will require surrender of structures and norms and old visions and false realities.

But don’t fear. It’s the surrender of flight, falling into the ways of Jesus and finding ourselves held by the wings of love the whole time. That is, if only we have the courage to listen to asexuals, end amatonormativity, and become something so much better: the family of God.

Ornament on a Christmas tree that says Be Proud of Who You Are

allyship, aromanticism, asexuality, queer, resources

The Queer Identities Flowchart

June 8, 2025June 8, 2025 jennadewitt

I’m hoping this flowchart can help everyone understand that the letters aren’t just a jumble of alphabet soup, but there is an organized system behind each one. It’s easier to see if you click the arrows to navigate through each slide, focusing on a specific section. These concepts are pretty much a multiple-choice test.

Orientation options include:

Attracted to the other binary gender
Attracted to my gender
Gender isn’t a factor
Attracted to multiple genders
Don’t know/don’t need to specify
Rarely or in certain situations
Just sexual
Just romantic
None of the above

Gender options include:

Same as the one everyone expected when I was born (“assigned at birth”)
No gender
Fluid or more than one gender or a gender not in the binary
The other binary gender of the one everyone expected when I was born

Intersex identities and other variations of queerness are also included.

Open these in a new tab or zoom in to explore!

Hope these are helpful! This is meant to be the start of the conversation, not the end point. Explore more in-depth and specific identities here: https://lgbtqia.wiki/wiki/LGBTQIA%2B_Wiki:FAQ

asexuality, essays, faith

Shame boxes and liberation

November 18, 2024 jennadewitt

You’re going to hear me say a phrase a lot: “Sexual liberation includes the choice not to have sex.” What do I mean?

Sex-negative purity culture and celibacy-shaming culture are part of the same harmful system with moving goalposts. Both force sex on us.

The fight is not purity culture vs. hookup culture. The fight is true sexual liberation and self-agency against mandates controlling our bodies. No one can tell you you have to have sex in order to be good, normal, healthy, or mature. Not in marriage, not in singleness.

If sex positivity ends when “no” is said too often, expressed too confidently, or extends to a certain age before it’s “not normal! Humans NEED sex!”, that’s not sex positivity. It’s still a form of purity culture with a different set of rules you’re forced to play by. Other people’s standards.

Purity culture isn’t about abstaining from sex. It’s about putting strict rules on when you *must* have it. Secular culture simply removes the marriage element. There’s something “wrong” with you if you’re a “sad virgin” at 21, they say. “He just needs to get laid.” “What a frigid bitch.” etc.

If you don’t have sex, whether in marriage or out of it, you’re a freak. Doctors want to find out why you’re sick. Therapists worry about you and think if you just tried dating or hooking up, you’d find healing. Friends don’t trust you because surely you have to have something wrong with you.

No, maybe family doesn’t kick you out, but they sure as hell pity you and look down on you and shame you. You’re a joke. You’re a political jab. You’re a concern. The GOP wants to make you an example of all the things wrong with this country. “Your body, my choice” they scream now.

trigger warning: SA

You have to worry about getting pregnant even if you don’t want to have sex ever because telling men that leads to them thinking it’s a challenge. We call it corrective rape. Correcting what’s wrong with us.

Meanwhile conversion therapy plays out for us every day because we’re considered mentally or physically ill if we don’t have sex by (16? 18? 22? 30? 45?). No one has to make a “Side X” or “nonaffirming” camp for asexuality because it’s the air we breathe. It’s everyone around us.

Even those who consider themselves affirming of us think of it as a niche, for “those people.” Good for them, but for NORMAL people, you know, real humans need sex. Real adults mature into wanting sex. Real liberated people say “yes.” The consent is for us to feel morally, culturally pure about it, not for you to actually refuse over and over. And certainly not forever. Eventually, you’re “supposed to” want it.

But maybe you don’t. Whether by orientation or interest or opinion or lack of suitable options.

I’m not at risk of being excommunicated for staying celibate and single by church policy. I’m at risk of being excommunicated from society by refusing to let men use my body for things I don’t want just so I can meet some developmental norm or perceived biological need (of theirs, of course) or hit a milestone or rite of passage to prove I’m not “weird” or “broken” or making others uncomfortable.

Is it better than being kicked out of a home as a teen? Sure. Am I still fighting every day to get people to see the harm of amatonormativity and allonormativity? Now and always.

Liberation and bodily autonomy.

If that’s what you’re for, you are united with us in the same fight against purity culture. If this feels like a threat to you, consider liberating yourself and those around you from the shame boxes altogether. Both the purity culture box and the not-sexual-enough shame box.

Collective liberation is for all of us to have the freedom to determine our own choices, about our bodies and identities and lives. It’s shaping the kind of society we want to live in. We have to think bigger than judging people for the sex they have or haven’t had. That’s not enough. Liberation respects, trusts, and honors each of us living as our whole selves authentically true to our needs and what is freedom to us.