“I would ask people why they bother to date”: Evidence of the importance of romantic attraction in the development of sexual identity for asexual individuals

Abstract

The conflation between sexual attraction and romantic attraction in relationships is a common one, yet evidence shows that sexual and romantic attraction can exist independently of one another. Public narratives and media rarely note that such a separation can exist and, in academia, even high-quality research into LGB+ identities rarely differentiate the concepts. The growing exception to that trend is asexuality research which, informed by the developing culture around asexuality, has been differentiating the two concepts and questioning the basic cultural assumptions surrounding the connectedness between different forms of attraction. My research seeks to increase our collective knowledge on the importance of sexual and romantic attraction as separate concepts among asexual individuals. The research included in-depth interviews with 21 individuals who identified across the asexual-spectrum (e.g., asexual, demisexual, gray-a) and who identified varying levels of romantic attraction (e.g., alloromantic, aromantic, demiromantic). Three themes arose: (1) some participants noted preference for generalized terms to describe their sexuality or uncertainty in identification with specific asexual-spectrum definitions, (2) previous feelings regarding dating and connection with allosexual peers could vary by romantic identity, and (3) aromantic participants noted greater relief and positive affect than non-aromantic participants when discovering the terminology for their sexual and romantic identity. Findings suggest that, for those who identify as on the asexual-spectrum, romantic identification may be more important than specific sexual identification in affecting an individual’s lived experiences and self-perception. This research furthers our understanding of the importance of the conceptual and practical differences between romantic and sexual identities.

Keywords

Asexuality LGBTQ+ identity romantic attraction romantic identity sexuality

Introduction

Asexuality is typically defined as experiencing no sexual attraction and is sometimes used as an umbrella term, alongside terms such as asexual-spectrum, to refer to a variety of sexualities that are defined as having little-to-no sexual attraction. However, an increasing number of researchers have noted that asexual-spectrum individuals appear to be highly heterogenous in their identifications and experiences (e.g., Carrigan, 2011; Chasin, 2015; Scherrer, 2008; Winer et al., 2024). Two common points of diversity are: (1) specific sexual identification to indicate intensity, frequency, or contextuality of sexual attraction (e.g., asexual, gray-asexual, demisexual) and (2) romantic attraction that is differentiated from sexual attraction, including identifications referring to no or low romantic attraction (e.g., aromantic, demiromantic) or perceiving oneself to have a more conventional level of romantic attraction disconnected from sexual attraction (e.g., alloromantic). This differentiation has been noted both by the collective asexual community (see: Sennkestra, 2020) and by researchers as a less often considered but important area in need of additional research (Antonsen et al., 2020; Carvalho and Rodrigues, 2022; Winer, 2024a). Within the asexual population, around 42% of asexual individuals identify with an identity under the aromantic umbrella (Ace Community Survey Team, 2023). Despite this, aromanticism has gone largely unresearched until recently in academia. This may be because many societies commonly conflate sexual and romantic attraction; even within academia, assumptions that intimacy is inherently both romantic and sexual is commonplace (Hammack et al., 2019).

Findings of previous research have indicated that asexual individuals may perceive their sexuality as less connected to their identity when compared to non-asexual individuals (Dawson et al., 2018) and may experience conflict when dating or befriending allosexual people due to differences in the degree of sexual activity desired in a relationship (Scherrer, 2010; Vares, 2018). Further, there is evidence that asexual populations may perceive romance differently from other populations (Mitchell and Hunnicutt, 2019) or have different desires for relationships based on whether they identify as asexual, demisexual, or gray-asexual (Copulsky and Hammack, 2023). However, romantic attraction in particular remains understudied (Tessler, 2023; Tessler and Winer, 2023), with researchers only recently utilizing either quantitative data or qualitative data from content analysis of online posts to explore differences in romantic attraction relative to sexual attraction (Antonsen et al., 2020; Winer et al., 2024). There are few studies that have utilized interviews to investigate variations in romantic attraction among asexual populations (Tessler and Winer, 2023). With that in mind, this research was developed to expand on this burgeoning area through qualitative analysis of the lived experiences of asexual-spectrum participants (N = 21) using in-depth interviews that specifically consider how variations of participants’ self-identified sexual and romantic identities may affect their perceptions of their own identity and their perceptions of sexual and romantic activities.

Literature review

Definitions of asexuality and sexual attraction

It is important to note that the definition of asexuality has shifted over time. For example, Kinsey et al.’s research denoted as “X” as a means of indicating “no socio-sexual contacts or reactions” (Kinsey et al., 1948: 656). Later works defined asexuality as “the state of having no sexual attraction for either sex” (Bogaert, 2004: 279). The Asexuality Visibility and Education Network (n.d.), which often serves as a source of information and communication for the asexual community, defines an asexual person as someone who does not experience sexual attraction and notes of terms such as asexual-spectrum to refer to sexual identifications associated with little-to-no sexual attraction. Common among these definitions is demisexual (only having sexual attraction after an emotional bond has already been established) and gray-asexual/graysexual (only feeling sexual attraction in rare instances or with low intensity). The counterpart to these terms is “allosexual,” which refers to having sexual attraction. Researchers have often adopted similar definitions for research (Carrigan, 2011). Definitions used for this article can be found in the Index. While there have been efforts to construct measures examining lack of sexual attraction (e.g., Yule et al., 2015) and theoretical models examining the behavioral, attraction, and identification-related aspects of asexuality (Van Houdenhove et al., 2015), self-identification remains a core requirement to determine asexuality in research (Carrigan, 2011).

Researchers have noted that it is difficult to estimate the percentage of people who identify as asexual (Winer, 2024b). The most commonly cited study noted that 1% of the general population report not experiencing sexual attraction (Bogaert, 2004), but this metric is both potentially dated and is flawed as it does not measure asexual self-identification. The population is majority assigned female at birth, with over 20% percentage of individuals identifying with a nonbinary gender (Ace Community Survey Team, 2023; Hinderliter, 2009; Rothblum et al., 2020).

Differentiated attraction and definitions of romantic attraction

The asexual population is a highly heterogenous population, with substantial variation in regard to significant identifications and associated experiences (Carrigan, 2011; Chasin, 2015; Clark and Zimmerman, 2022; Scherrer, 2008). One tendency that has shown up in research and in the asexual community is for any single individual to experience multiple forms of attraction, with the most common differentiation being the separation of sexual attraction from romantic attraction, but other kinds have been noted such as aesthetic and sensual attractions. This tendency was previously and loosely called the “Split Attraction Model” (Coyote, 2019a), but has been relabeled “Differentiated Attraction” by the asexual community as people refined the concept and worked to separate the concept from its roots as an insult to asexual people (Coyote, 2019b; Sennkestra, 2020). In either case, this differentiation between sexual and romantic attraction coincides with researchers’ findings that romantic attraction can be an experience different from sexual attraction (Carvalho and Rodrigues, 2022; Diamond, 2003). Though the tendency to differentiate between sexual and romantic attraction does not appear universal in any population (Carvalho and Rodrigues, 2022), it has been found to be a significant variable in quantitative research of asexual populations (Antonsen et al., 2020; Winer et al., 2024). Definitions for romantic identities tend to mirror those of sexual identities. For example, aromantic (experiencing no romantic attraction), demiromantic (romantic attraction can occur after another emotional bond is already established), and alloromantic (experiencing romantic attraction) are common definitions. Several other labels do exist, such as a participant in this study who identified as cupioromantic (which describes a person who wants a romantic relationship, but does not feel romantic attraction). As these labels are highly heterogeneous, this research will focus on the main definitions of romantic attractions.

Western societal constructions centered on sexual and romantic bonding

When examining the development of asexual or aromantic identities, it is important to recognize how those who display little-to-no attraction towards, or interest in, sexual activity are perceived. Several theorists have argued that there are sexual expectations woven throughout many aspects of Western societies (Przybylo, 2011) and that all people face expectations of being sexual (Carrigan, 2011; Chasin, 2011). This compulsory sexuality has been argued to be a means of social control through social expectations that each person should desire subjects and construct themselves as objects of desire (Emens, 2014; Gupta, 2015). Those who do not match these expectations are punished or ostracized for perceived violations of norms. Dating norms centered on sexual activity, romantic subplots in TV series, and advertisements that connect sexuality to objects or places can each act as a means of connecting value to sexuality and reinforce this tendency. Social expectations of family, marriage, and pairing rituals also frequently center on the presence of romantic and sexual activity, with romantic love being considered a standard reason for such bonds between adults in modern, Western societies (Coontz, 2006). There is also the trend of amatonormativity in many Western societies, the concept of which was defined by Brake (2012) to note a disproportionate prioritization of dyadic, marital, and amorous relationships over other forms of caring relationships, such as friendships and non-monogamous relationships.

These standards can further be gendered. Sexual activity is often presented as a fundamental tenet or measure of masculinity. This can leave asexual men facing doubts regarding their asexuality (MacNeela and Murphy, 2015; Mitchell and Hunnicutt, 2019; Robbins et al., 2016; Vares, 2018). However, men are typically able to more easily avoid sexual expectations in social situations through adoption of labels of non-sexual archetypes which correspond with lowered expectations of seeking sex, such as ‘nerd’ or ‘scientist’ (Gupta, 2019). On the other hand, asexual women may face assumptions that they may be either too sexually immature to understand, will ‘grow out of’ their asexuality, or could be ‘converted’ to being sexual by virile heterosexual men (Gupta, 2019; Vares, 2018). Notably, this dismissal of non-sexuality has also appeared in many LGBT+ communities through assumptions that asexual people don’t want to admit their ‘actual’ sexuality of being gay, lesbian or another sexuality (Gupta, 2017a; Robbins et al., 2016). Regardless of the source, men tend to be more likely to be assumed to desire sex by many societies, while women tend to struggle more in gaining recognition for their sexual autonomy.

Societal presentations of non-sexuality

Social and cultural norms typically dictate what options may exist to members of a culture, as well as whether or not any options are seen as valid, welcomed, or stigmatized. In this case, asexuality has a muddled history. Research focusing on Western societies have noted a conflation between the lack of sexual attraction found in asexual individuals and the lack of interest in sexual activities that can occur for people who have experienced some kind of medical condition or sexual trauma (Bogaert, 2015b; Brotto et al., 2015; Brotto and Yule, 2017). When presented through this lens, Western societies have a history of presenting asexuality as a ‘flaw,’ ‘condition,’ or otherwise something ‘broken.’ There is also evidence that people without asexual acquaintances are more likely to view asexual people as ‘robotic’ or otherwise ‘non-human’ (MacInnis and Hodson, 2012). These social norms, in conjunction with compulsory sexuality, influence the social context that asexual individuals grow up in. Asexual individuals have commonly reported having difficulties in learning about asexuality in their youth due to lack of knowledge about asexuality in the general public (Gupta, 2017a). This may cause many asexual individuals to initially identify with another LGB+ identity, such as bisexual or pansexual, before later self-identifying as asexual (Winer et al., 2024). This tendency can come from asexual individuals comparing their (very low or nonexistent) attraction towards men and women around them and perceiving the attractions as roughly equal. As the two are equal, the individual may equate that feeling to being bisexual. Once provided with definitions that more accurately fit their experiences, the definition used by the asexual individual may change.

The friction that can arise from asexual individuals and their social environment can lead to psychological consequences. Research exploring the experiences of college students in the United States found that asexual populations tend to also have higher rates of depression on average when compared to heterosexual, gay, and lesbian groups but have rates roughly equal to bisexual groups (Borgogna et al., 2019). Similar results have been found in research using Chinese populations, where researchers found psychological distress to be correlated with asexuality and suggested the effect was due to asexuality being frequently misunderstood by others (Su and Zheng, 2021). While such effects have been noted for asexuality, the effect of romantic attraction on mental health or psychological distress is currently unresearched. As such, while it is likely that similar mental strains may occur among those who identify on the aromantic spectrum, the intensity or frequency to which such phenomena exist is unknown.

Current study

The current study examines differences in the lived experiences of asexual-spectrum individuals across both sexual and romantic identifications using qualitative interview data. The following research questions were used to guide interview coding and interpretation:

Research question #1: How do sexual and romantic identities each affect perceptions of romantic and sexual activity for the individual?

Research question #2: How does learning about one’s sexual or romantic identity differ for those with different sexual and romantic identities?

Research question #1 was informed by the findings of Vares (2018), who considered how variations in asexual identity may affect perceptions of relationships and desires for different romantic and sexual activities in dating relationships, and expands their consideration to include variations of romantic attraction and variations within the asexual-spectrum of identities. Research question #2 was informed by the previous question and by the findings regarding asexual identity salience from Dawson et al. (2018), and considers how perception of sexual and romantic attraction may carry different meanings for an individual. In particular, this question considers if learning about romantic attraction may differ from learning about sexual attraction as an individual becomes more knowledgeable about any sexual and romantic attractions they may experience.

Methodology

Data were gathered from individuals who responded to an initial survey requesting asexual participants. A recruitment message was posted on Twitter and a Discord channel catering to asexual students and scholars in the academic community. The link was shared over Twitter by several asexual groups and members of the community. A total of 443 individuals responded to the survey. After the survey, the participants were separated into groups by nation of residence and sex assigned at birth. Only individuals from the United States were invited to control for the effect of differing nations of residence for the interview portion. Equal numbers of participants were chosen at random from each group of sex assigned at birth and were invited to participate in interviews. This stratification was selected in order to prioritize examining differences in experiences and self-identification based on sex assigned at birth, as sex assigned at birth has been found to influence sexual and romantic expectations from friends, family, and partners for asexual individuals (e.g., Gupta, 2019; Vares, 2018).¹ Data were collected through semi-structured in-depth interviews, which have been argued by Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2010) to be effective in gathering qualitative data on specific issues and experiences shared across a population. 21 in-depth interviews were conducted. This number was decided upon to account for the timeframe of the project and coding method. The data was not intended to be fully representative of the entire US asexual population, but to determine the breadth of experiences related to romantic attraction and aromantic self-identification in the population examined. The data achieved saturation for the questions discussed in this research, which has been argued as a primary goal for research into LGBTQ populations (Compton, 2018).

All interviews were conducted over Zoom, with interviews lasting from 45 min to 140 min. Once the interviews were conducted, the researcher transcribed verbatim for each interview and conducted two waves of coding using data analysis and interpretation methods as described by Hesse-Biber and Leavy (2010). The first wave included descriptive coding using a social constructionist paradigm and focused on how participants learned about, viewed, and engaged with understandings of sexual and romantic attraction. This was coded for instances in both how the participant perceived their own identity, sexuality, or self, and how the participant perceived the actions, expectations, and norms of the people around them. The second wave of coding was analytical and guided by the research questions in order to identify commonalities between the experiences of participants and trends in the effect of events relevant to the research questions, such as effects of a participant of learning terminology associated with asexuality. Participant characteristics are included in Table 1.

Table 1.

Participant characteristics.

Pseudonym	Pronouns	Age	Race	Sex assigned at birth	Gender	Sexual identification	Romantic identification	Uncertainty in identification
Beatrice	She/They	41	White	Female	Agender	Asexual	Aromantic	No
Caroline	She/Her	39	White	Female	Cisgender	Asexual/Queer^a	Biromantic	No
Denise	They/Them	29	White	Female	Agender	Demi-/Ace-spec^a	Demi-/Gray-aro-spec^a	Yes
Felicia	She/Her	27	White	Female	Cisgender	Asexual/Queer^a	Alloromantic/Queer^a	Yes
Fredrick	He/Him	26	White	Male	Cisgender	Asexual/Ace-spec^a	Hetero/Alloromantic	Yes
Gail	They/Them	28	White	Male	Nonbinary	Demisexual	Interest in non-men	Yes
Gregory	He/Him	32	Black	Male	Cisgender	Asexual	Aromantic	No
Heidi	She/Her	29	White	Female	Questioning	Asexual	Aromantic	No
Iris	She/Her	25	White	Female	Agender Girl	Asexual	Aromantic	No
Kate	She/Her	24	White	Female	Nonbinary	Gray-asexual	Queer/Questioning	Yes
Leslie	She/Her	21	White	Female	Cisgender	Asexual	Biromantic	No
Jaiden	He/Him	22	Asian/Indian	Male	Cisgender	Demisexual	Demi-/Homoromantic	Yes
Jay	They/Them	26	White	Female	Nonbinary	Asexual/Ace-spec^a	Aromantic	Yes
Justin	He/Him	29	White/Hispanic	Male	Nonbinary	Asexual	Alloromantic	No
Marcos	He/Him	22	White	Male	Cisgender	Asexual	Demi-/Panromantic^a	Yes
Nathan	He/Him	39	Black	Female	Genderqueer	Asexual/Ace-spec^a	Aromantic/Aro-Spec^a	Yes
Pheobe	She/Her	30	White/Jewish	Female	Cisgender	Demisexual	Demiromantic	No
Stephen	He/Him	31	White	Male	Cisgender	Asexual	Aegoromantic/Aro-spec^a	Yes
Ramona	She/Her	53	White	Female	Nonbinary	Demisexual	Demiromantic	Yes
Rebecca	He/Him	22	White	Male	Female	Asexual	Biromantic	No
Roland	He/Him	34	White	Male	Cisgender	Asexual	Hetero/Panromantic^a	No

^aInstances where participants adjusted the wording of their sexual and/or romantic identity between the survey and interview stages of the research. The table notes survey responses first.

While only 10 of the participants reported being cisgender (i.e., not transgender or nonbinary) may appear quite low, previous research has noted that asexual populations have notably higher rates of identifying with a nonbinary gender or as agender (i.e., identifying as not having a gender) relative to other populations (Gupta, 2019). Self-labels of sexual and romantic attraction were often noted as being accompanied by feelings of uncertainty, and some participants used different labels between from those listed in the survey and interview portions of the data collection. This tendency will be discussed as part of theme 1.

Participants provided written consent during the survey portion of data collection and provided oral consent during the interview phase of data collection to participate in the research for the purposes of publication. The data was deidentified during the transcription process. All names presented in this article are pseudonyms. As an incentive for participation in interviews, participants were placed into a raffle for one of four $25 Amazon Gift Cards. The Institutional Review Board for the Protection of Human Subjects at the University of Oklahoma approved the data collection for this research (IRB Number: 14679) on June 23, 2022.

Results

There were three major themes observed in the data relevant to the discussion of this this research. Theme one was emergent from the data and not associated directly with a research question. Themes two and three corresponded with research questions one and two, respectively. The observed themes were as follows: (1) some participants noted a preference for using generalized terms to describe their sexual or romantic identity or noted an uncertainty that made them hesitate to self-identify with specific asexual-spectrum definitions, (2) while many similarities existed for all participants, those who identified as aromantic noted having an additional layer of disconnection when recalling how they understood relationship experiences relative to peers in high school and college, and (3) those who identified as aromantic, compared to alloromantic participants, viewed their sexual and romantic identities with more positive affect and noted learning about their identity as having a more positive effect on their lived experience.

Instances of uncertainty and use of generalized identifications with asexual and aromantic-spectrum definitions

When given the time to fully describe and explain their sexual or romantic identity, definitions varied widely between participants. Of the 21 participants, eleven identified as clearly asexual and three as clearly demisexual. Of these participants, several noted their sexuality as simply “Asexual” without further need to explain while some added minor notes on how they had identified earlier in their lives. Results for romantic identity had a similar number of participants expressing certainty in their wording, with eleven participants stating romantic identities of aromantic, alloromantic, or biromantic without hesitation. The remaining participants offered additional nuances to describe their experiences and identities when given an opportunity to provide a more complete explanation. These cases of additional nuance fell into two distinct categories. First, participants indicating a preference for a generalized term over a more specific term. Second, participants noting a degree of uncertainty regarding if their experience matched specific asexual-spectrum or aromantic-spectrum definitions.

To give an example of a preference for a more generalized term, Stephen (asexual, aegoromantic/aro-spec) indicated “I identify as asexual. I did for a while identify as demisexual, but through further reflection, found the umbrella term asexual more comfortable for me.” This phrasing suggests that use of a specific identity either felt unimportant or was too rigid to feel comfortable to the participant. Identifying under the asexual umbrella was important, but attempting to narrow down or pinpoint their selection of definition to a specific sexual identity was not preferred. Other reasons were also presented for a preference for a more generalized term. As Caroline (asexual/queer, biromantic) explained it:

[When] I don’t want to get into a longer explanation with people I don’t know very well, ‘queer’ is the most wonderful, fluid, great way to just sort of signify ‘Hey? Not a cis-straight, allosexual person here.’

For Caroline, claiming a specific identity label of asexuality appeared to be less important than the knowledge that she did not need to be sexual or have interest in sex. This is reflective of other research such as that of Mollet (2023), who found that asexual individuals may identify as queer as a means of identity management or to avoid giving potentially lengthy explanations of asexuality when disclosing their identity. The term asexuality was an option for Caroline to explain her asexual identity, but it was not described as the only valid description of her experience as other terms could be used when speaking to different populations.

The other type of nuance given by participants came when participants noted an uncertainty in their self-identification for either their asexual-spectrum or aromantic-spectrum identities, though the source of uncertainty could vary. Denise (demi-/ace-spec, demi-/gray-aro-spec) noted a degree of uncertainty coming from her inability to “keep up” with modern definitions:

Obviously [asexuality is] an ever-evolving thing, and I feel like there are way more terms than when I first started learning them, and I can’t really keep up. Across the board, I would say I'm probably on the gray-spectrums.

For Jay (asexual/ace-spec, aromantic), a feeling of uncertainty stemmed more from their considerations on the requirements of certain identifications:

I’ve definitely been on the fence of straight asexuality and demi-. For a very long time, I still haven’t ever found anybody that would define me as demi-, but I still kind of have it as an open idea. Most of the time, I just use asexual and call it good. […] Kind of the same idea [with romantic attraction]. I’ve never had a romantic connection with somebody, but it's not something that I’m 100% closed off to if it happened at some point. (emphasis by researcher)

These statements from Denise and Jay both show that definitions between different sexual and romantic attractions may not always feel clear to individuals. The uncertainty may come from the shifting in definitions that is occurring in the community, as was the case for Denise, or from perceived requirements for the definitions, as it was for Jay. Demisexual and demiromantic refer to having an attraction after an emotional bond has been established; however, developing such attractions are not guaranteed with any specific emotional bond. As such, Jay found it difficult to ‘prove’ that they were asexual or aromantic as such a certainty would require proof of a negative: proof that they could never be attracted to anyone. But to be clear, this hesitance was not universal and most participants who self-identified as asexual or aromantic did so with confidence.

Previous experiences and perceptions of sex, dating, and identities

Aromantic and alloromantic participants shared a number of similarities in their perception of sex and the expectations surrounding sexual activity. Common between both groups, participants recalled a gap in their perception and those of their friends on the topic of sexuality during their teenage years, with participants noting feelings ranging from disbelief to suspecting something was wrong with themselves. For example, Denise (demi-/ace-spec, demi-/gray-aro-spec) stated on the topic of people at their school having sex:

I thought it was made up, literally. Thought it was one of those things that existed in movies. Like everyone thought everyone else was doing it, so everyone’s talking about it but it’s not actually happening. Like, I knew people were doing drugs because the guy in the locker next to mine was selling them out of his locker. But like, sex? No.

This experience appeared to come from a fundamental disconnection to understanding sex as a desirable or sought-after activity by anyone. Two participants had noted believing that their friends were fully lying about sex or showed this style of disbelief. Other participants had believed their friends had sex or were in relationships, but indicated not initially understanding the perceived value of such relationships. For example, Caroline (asexual/queer, biromantic) indicated:

I would ask people why they bother to date people, because it looked like ‘you’re just gonna break up, what’s the point?’ Like, I could not grok that people were getting something of immediate benefit that was satisfying to them in the moment. Because I’m like well, obviously, why would you be in a relationship if it’s not going to be a long-term, fulfilling thing? Because I clearly only have romantic attractions and that’s the only value I see in relationships, and it’s just it’s so painfully obvious in retrospect.

Varieties of Caroline’s sentiment were noted among other participants who recalled feeling that seeking sex interfered with more enjoyable activities.

However, this feeling of disbelief or doubt as to the rewards associated with relationships was not universal among participants. Some participants recalled feeling that, while sex was not sought as a desirable goal, they were able to connect to friends’ feelings or values around a desire towards romance and dating. Leslie (asexual, biromantic) was an example of this and noted her experience as akin to allosexual friends: “I think, growing up, I felt normal. I still feel normal now. But, in high school and middle school, I had crushes on guys.” Leslie noted her feelings and crushes through the lens of her romantic identity as biromantic, suggesting that it was her romantic attraction, rather than a sexual attraction, that lead to her feeling normal in regard to high school dating culture.

Most participants, regardless of romantic attraction, noted a degree of pressure from their peers during middle and high school to be in a romantic or sexual relationship. This was noted as a passive expectation, such as the participant feeling left out when all of their friends were in dating relationships and talked about their relationships to the exclusion of other topics or when the participants faced assumptions that everyone should desire a relationship. However, the responses from four aromantic-spectrum individuals suggested they had faced additional friction in processing their own lack of interest in relationships in their youth:

I used to very much be in the mindset of like ‘I’m supposed to have a relationship. I need to find someone because…I’m incomplete. I’m failing if I don’t have that’ and, over time, I’ve just realized like ‘this is not only not what would make me happy. It’s actively making me miserable to suffer and search for this.’ (Iris, asexual, aromantic)

Iris had phrased her experiences as the feeling of fighting the notion that every story needs a romantic subplot to be complete. Further, Iris, Beatrice, Denise, and Gregory each noted that participation in social expectations of romance felt necessary to be a normal person during their youth. The alloromantic participants in this study were less likely to note crushes as forced in the manner some aromantic participants had, though some mentioned mixing up romantic crushes with crushes based on “platonic love” (Jaiden, demisexual, demi-/homoromantic) or, for participants who identified as transgender or nonbinary gender, “gender envy” towards gender characteristics of others (Justin, asexual, alloromantic).

Both aromantic and alloromantic participants noted having sexual activity that they found to be neutral or undesirable, but continued to engage or seek the activity for a time either out of social obligation or out of an expectation that doing so would lead to an epiphany and allow them to enjoy sexual activity. This was sometimes accompanied by feelings that the participants had been ‘doing it wrong’ as a means of trying to understand why they did not enjoy sex or otherwise felt sexual activity to be underwhelming or ‘empty.’ As Stephen (asexual, aegoromantic/aro-spec), phrased his experiences:

I did have a few experiences [of sex], and they just felt very empty, physically and mentally and spiritually, everything. I, I don't know what I expected. Looking back, maybe that’s coming from the romantic side that I’m…I thought it’d be this epiphany-type moment, and it definitely wasn’t. It just felt…I didn’t feel like me.

Roland (asexual, hetero/panromantic) spoke more on how his feelings of self-worth had become entangled with sexual activity:

When I was in high school and college, I think I had a strong need to consider my success or failure as a person based on, like, heterosexual conquests. Right? Like if I wasn’t having a lot of sexual contact with women, then there was something wrong with me. Either I wasn’t doing it right or I was physically unattractive. […] I wasn’t a ‘real man’ if I wasn’t having a lot of sex with women in particular. And that was definitely a driving motivation for me through a lot of high school and college, to the point where I didn’t really stop to think about whether or not I wanted that or was enjoying that.

Feelings of social pressure to participate in social norms surrounding sexual activity or dating during adolescence was noted as present by most participants regardless of romantic attraction.

In regard to sexual identification, several participants noted identifying as another sexuality, such as bisexual, before identifying as asexual. This matches previous research (Winer et al., 2024), but results suggest that this may vary based on whether the participant identified as aromantic or as having some degree of romantic attraction (e.g., demiromantic, alloromantic). Responses from participants on previous terms they had used for their sexuality ranged from feeling that they were conventionally heterosexual to feeling that something was wrong with them as a person for a reason they could not pin down. Some participants further noted that they had not thought deeply about their sexuality until after they had come across the terminology for asexuality and romantic attraction.

For those who identified as having some degree of romantic attraction, such as those who identified as demiromantic or alloromantic, there were more recollections of mixing up their romantic attraction with their sexual attraction. As one participant noted it:

What I later came to realize was romantic and aesthetic attraction was very easily muddled for ‘Oh, I’m experiencing sexual attraction the same as everyone else’ (Gail, demisexual, romantic interest toward non-men)

Experiencing attraction, even if strictly for nonsexual activity, appears to lead to understandings of shared experiences with others who share aspects of their attraction. If attraction is felt towards people of a particular sex or gender identity, then that feeling of attraction may further pair with Western societal understandings of ‘straight,’ ‘gay,’ or ‘bisexual.’ Due to scarcity of knowledge of asexuality and the commonality of portrayals of sexual and romantic attractions coinciding with each other in media, this appears to have caused several participants to consider themselves straight, gay, or with other terms more in line with their romantic attraction. As an example, one participant noted that the feeling that she “liked boys” (Felicia, asexual/queer, aromantic/queer) was never in question due to her having some romantic attraction towards men. When compared to the experiences of aromantic participants, the participants who identified as having some romantic attraction appeared to feel more congruity between perceived social expectations and their personal experiences. This congruity did not negate the tendency of ‘feeling different’ noted above when comparing their sexual experiences to peers or media, but it did appear to affect their feelings of relating to allosexual populations on the topic of romance and dating.

For aromantic individuals, there appeared to be a different tendency. In particular, four of the aromantic participants noted identifying as bisexual or pansexual due to a ‘zero equals zero’ logic. Put another way, these four participants noted looking at men and women and found that their feelings of attraction were roughly the same for both men and women. That reasoning then led these participants to consider themselves bisexual or pansexual, as it roughly equated to an “X = Y” equation. Multiple participants noted this in a mathematical sense, with considering their experiences of learning about asexuality and aromanticism was in part realizing that “zero could equal zero” (Stephen, Asexual, Aegoromantic/Aro-spec) and that their initial identification came from experiencing “two sums of null” (Beatrice, asexual, aromantic). This result stood out for aromantic participants as, while over half of the aromantic participants recalled such an experience, no other participants noted such an experience in regard to their asexuality or romantic attraction. Bisexuality being a pathway to asexuality has been noted by recent research (Winer et al., 2024), however, this tendency to equate zeros in attraction appeared exclusive to aromantic participants in this study. Some alloromantic participants did identify as biromantic or panromantic and continued to do so at the time of the interview, but a sexuality-specific ‘zero equals zero’ experience did not appear for participants who noted at least some romantic attraction. In contrast, participants who identified as heteroromantic seemed to have used their attraction towards certain populations or body types as a reference for their sexual attraction before they identified as asexual. This appears to suggest that experiencing some romantic attraction can affect understandings of perceived directionality of sexual attraction before an individual identifies their sexuality as on the asexual-spectrum.

Shifts in lived experiences after identifying with an asexual-spectrum identity

The importance of learning the terminology for sexual and romantic identities varied between participants and appeared to lead to different experiences based on the romantic identity of the individual. Not all participants learned the terminology for asexuality at the same time they learned terminology for their romantic identity, but all participants were aware of the terminology by the time of the interviews. Sexual and romantic identities were both noted as important as at least a descriptor by the majority of participants. However, how participants noted their sexual and romantic identities as affecting their lives and their mental health varied by romantic attraction. Their perception that their sexual or romantic attraction was meaningful to their identification did also appear to vary by romantic attraction.

For alloromantic individuals, participants noted changes in their self-identification as comparatively minor in regard to self-perception. Most alloromantic participants noted a variation of asexuality remaining in the background of their experiences. The definitions explained their experiences in regard to sexuality, but it was rarely noted as being very important to their lived experiences at the time of the interview. Likewise, most alloromantic participants noted having neutral feelings towards their own asexuality, the term was a good and useful descriptor but not a source of pride or shame. One participant, Gail (demisexual, romantic interest toward non-men), noted their sexuality as akin to being ‘a fish in water,’ with sexuality affecting lived experiences while rarely being salient. There were some exceptions to this trend with participants: one participant, Justin (asexual, alloromantic), noted that his sexuality was an integral and positive aspect of his identity as the ‘neutrality’ of asexuality also lead to a perceived greater flexibility and freedom with his experiences. Another participant, Felicia (asexual/queer, aromantic/queer), noted that she considered asexuality a primary descriptor of her identity because few people know about asexuality and because it allowed her to better empathize with LGBT+ populations.

Aromantic participants were less likely to note neutral feelings and more often indicated a positive shift in lived experiences and self-identification after learning the terminology for their sexuality and romantic attraction. A particularly pronounced example of the shift was noted as:

My mind was in a state of deep depression. […] I didn’t know what I was. Like, what was up with me? Where everyone else was so interested in sex. When I found the word, it felt like it was a saving grace. Honestly, it was like, thank goodness, being asexual. It was, it was perfect. When I found out, it just felt like all of that [depression] finally went away for once, and I’ve been much better. I'm actually feeling better in my thirties than I did in my twenties. (Gregory, asexual, aromantic)

While it was not universal or entirely exclusive to aromantic participants, the majority of aromantic participants noted feelings of being ‘broken,’ ‘weird,’ or otherwise feeling disconnected from the people around them on topics around sex or romance. For Gregory and other aromantic participants, learning about asexuality appeared to lead to a shift from negative affect and those feelings of disconnection from society to a more positive affect and feelings of validation. Gregory’s current view on sex is further indicative of this, as he noted he views that “Sex is like broccoli, some people love it, some hate it, that’s fine.” While other participants were less flavorful in their descriptions, phrasing that connected asexuality to feelings of relief or validation were more common and pronounced among aromantic participants:

I figured out I was ace. and then I was like, ‘Oh, well, good, I'm just done!’ [laughs] Never looked back! I was like, ‘Oh, well, this is good, actually put that on the shelf. and I never have to look in that box again.’ (Nathan, asexual/ace-spec, aromantic/aro-spec)

Similar feelings of relief were noted by other aromantic participants. However, while the overall feeling was positive, these participants responses also noted their negative experiences with amatonormative expectations of a society which does not construct itself around aromantic relationships and prioritizes romantic relationships over friendships. Similarly, some participants noted that as marriage, not friendship, is the standard form of stable long-term relationship, there was a potential of isolation from others as friends had families. This consideration was not exclusive to aromantic participants, but it was brought up with the context of not seeking romantic partners.

Discussion

The current study set out to explore how romantic identity affected lived experiences relative to sexual identity for asexual-spectrum individuals. Overall, findings suggested that, while there are several tendencies shared across participants regardless of romantic identity, there were distinct experiential differences between aromantic and alloromantic participants. These themes are discussed further below.

Speaking to theme one, which was emergent in the observations and found a tendency for some participants to note a preference for a broader term to describe their sexual or romantic identity, such queer or the umbrella usage of the term asexual, over more specific terms such as demisexual. This part of the result matches a tendency noted in previous asexuality and queer research, where the identity of queer has been noted as a means of identity management by asexual individuals who may choose to avoid explaining asexuality to others (Mollet, 2023) or who may use queer as a blanket term for their identity and experiences (Kolker et al., 2020; Mollet, 2023). The results of this study suggest that the term asexual-spectrum or the more generalized usage of term asexual may function as a similar blanket descriptor for some individuals.

This research adds to the literature in regard to understanding the uncertainty that can accompany having an asexual or aromantic identity. Previous research has noted quantitative differences between people who identified as asexual, demisexual, or gray-asexual (e.g., Copulsky and Hammack, 2023) and, while this result does not negate such findings, it problematizes the assumption that such categories are cleanly distinguishable experiences. Asexuality has already been noted by researchers to be highly heterogenous (e.g., Carrigan, 2011; Chasin, 2015; Scherrer, 2008; Winer et al., 2024), and this finding furthers that understanding by revealing how even definitions may be flexible and further research should be made in regard to analyzing ‘ace-spectrum’ or ‘aro-spectrum’ styles of identities.

For research question one, which considered how sexual and romantic identity each affect perceptions of romantic and sexual activity for the individual, the results suggested that experiences varied less by specific sexual identification under the asexual umbrella, but more by romantic identification. The difference between having no sexual attraction and contextual or low attraction did not appear to be noteworthy in this sample. Most participants, regardless of sexual or romantic identity, noted friction in regard to the pressures to have sex or be in romantic relationships. This matches previous research which noted that asexual individuals may face struggles in regard to partnering norms in Western societies (e.g., Gupta, 2019; Vares, 2018). However, participants who identified as having some romantic attraction more often noted feeling a connection with allosexual, alloromantic peers on the conversations of dating, crushes, or romance even if sexual topics caused more friction. This has some logic it; as the actions expected for the fulfilment of compulsory sexuality (Emens, 2014; Gupta, 2015) may be filtered through more visible romantic activities. Discussing or displaying explicit sexual acts in public is frequently a taboo in a way that romantically-coded activities such as dating, kissing, or discussing crushes is not. As such, people who do not experience notable sexual attraction but do experience romantic attraction are likely to have more incentive to engage with norms associated with social expectations in dating or romance. Those who identified as aromantic were more likely to note relationships as an undesirable social obligation or as a requirement to live a normal life. Further, aromantic participants were more likely to identify as bisexual as a pathway identity before identifying as asexual due to having an equal (lack) of sexual and romantic attraction towards both men and women. Previous research has noted how bisexuality can be a pathway to identifying as asexual (Winer et al., 2024), but this finding adds nuance to that effect by noting that it may be more common among aromantic individuals.

For research question two, which considered how learning about romantic identity may differ from learning about sexual identity, the effect of learning about one’s sexual and romantic identity appeared to differ based on the participant’s romantic identity. Those who identified as aromantic noted a deeper relief upon learning their identity and noted a greater positive affect towards their identity relative to alloromantic participants, often noting that it helped them understand their feelings and make decisions to not seek romantic relationships that were undesirable to them. Participants who identified as alloromantic were more likely to describe their identity with more neutral affect and consider it as more of a descriptor than as a positive or negative trait for them; the knowledge was considered helpful, but otherwise not a point to focus upon in their self-concept. This finding provides new insight in the field, as few scholars have conducted qualitative comparisons between asexual and aromantic identities. Scholars and members of the asexual community have argued for the separate consideration of sexual and romantic identities (Antonsen et al., 2020; Sennkestra, 2020), and this finding reinforces the importance of such differentiation.

In summary, the findings of this study add evidence to the argument that sexual and romantic identities should be considered as potentially differentiated factors. Further, for those who identify as under the asexual umbrella of identities, romantic identity may have a greater effect on an individual’s lived experiences than differences between asexual, demisexual, gray-asexual, or similar asexual-spectrum identities. Differences between asexual-spectrum identities may not always feel clear and specificity may not always be seen as desirable by individuals, so caution should be taken when considering the process of self-identification with asexual-spectrum and aromantic-spectrum identities. Romantic attraction appeared to lead to more distinct experiential differences in this data, as feelings of social connection with allosexual peers and perceptions of one’s own sexual and romantic identity appeared to vary more between aromantic and non-aromantic participants than when comparing participants based on their asexual-spectrum identifies. This finding provides new light on a burgeoning area of LGBT + research and reinforces the importance of considering romance as a factor that is at time differentiated from sexual activity.

Implications

These findings have implications beyond academia. For professionals who work with asexual and general LGBTQ+ populations, the findings of this study suggest that care should be taken to not conflate sexual and romantic activities. Likewise, for social workers, psychologists, and counselors who work with asexual populations, this work builds on the suggestions of previous scholars (Gupta, 2017b; Pinto, 2014) in considering the social needs of individuals who identify as asexual; in particular, for those who do not experience romantic attraction, acknowledging that romance is optional and that other forms of social bonding can be important and fulfilling may be useful advice. For asexual, alloromantic individuals, working to balance individual needs with sexual and romantic social norms may be more valuable.

Limitations and future research

Quantitative research have demonstrated meaningful differences between asexual, demisexual, and similar sexualities (Copulsky and Hammack, 2023). As such, even if nuances of the terminology carried a degree of uncertainty for the participants of this study, differences in experiences have been found significant in previous research. However, the goal of this article is to analyze the relative importances between sexual and romantic identities. The sample used in this research had a noteworthy difference when compared over lines of romantic attraction, though such a distinct difference should be examined with quantitative data to confirm its boarder significance and by determining the prevalence and strength of this difference. Further, this dataset was largely composed of white non-Hispanic participants. While this is a common limitation in this field of research, it remains a limitation as experiences can differ by race (Guz et al., 2022) and the intersectional considerations between race and sexuality require further research. The uncertainty in regard to specificity of sexual identity has not been noted as a substantial factor by other researchers, so future research will be required to verify whether the tendency noted regarding identity found in this research is a common feeling among asexual individuals, if this tendency was an idiosyncrasy of the data, or if this tendency may be resolved with more precise labels.

In regard to future research, further testing of romantic attraction as a separate variable would be productive. In particular, finding correlations between romantic attraction and feelings of social connectedness, feelings of friendship, and feelings of long-term social stability may prove enlightening in this area, as would research into how these societal factors may differ across cultures. Recent quantitative research has begun to examine variations in romantic attraction in allosexual populations (Scheller et al., 2024), but there is substantial room for further research to examine how such variations in romantic attraction may affect social experiences of allosexual populations. Such understandings of romantic attraction may prove highly useful in the education of sexuality and for professionals working with LGBTQ+ populations.

Conclusion

In summary, while some participants preferred broader identifications for describing their identity or felt a degree of uncertainty in specific sexual identifications, there were distinct differences in experience that appeared to stem from variations in romantic attraction. Alloromantic attraction was more likely to be connected with accounts of shared experiences with allosexual peers and increased investment in engaging with social norms, while aromanticism was more likely to be connected with more positive affect when learning about and describing sexual and romantic identity. The bulk of research in the understanding of asexuality has been examining asexuality either as a singular umbrella term or through the lens of separating out identities based on sexuality and viewing them as clearly distinct. My findings here suggest that either option may have caveats to consider as there may be uncertainty in definitions regarding asexual- and aromantic-spectrum identities for people who identify with them, even when trends may appear with specific identifications. Further, while sexual expectations are woven throughout many aspects of Western societies, the private acts of sex are filtered through the public acts of romance. As such, the effects of romantic attraction and social expectations of romance should not be underestimated relative to sexuality. Further research into the importance of romantic attraction should be paramount in this field.

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my mentor, Dr. Meredith Worthen, for her guidance and support. I would also like to thank Dr. Haifan Xiao and Dr. Matthew Loflin for their support.

Declaration of conflicting interests

The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Ethical statement

ORCID iD

Jessie Laljer

Data Availability Statement

Data available upon reasonable request. Data is de-identified, but the informed consent did not include a clause on the public availability of data.*

Note

Appendix

Jessie Laljer received his doctorate from the University of Oklahoma. His work focuses on Asexuality and Romantic identities and how romantic attraction may affect individuals’ lived experiences in a manner separate from their sexual attraction. Their work can also be found in the journal Sexuality & Culture.

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