From the sinister and teal-clad minds of the Evil Fellowship of Aromantics (ie, Sciatrix and I) comes a new and terrifying game. Tiers of Queer, a game of privilege and plummeting, where the stakes are your lives. Wanna play?
This is based, by the way, on the beautiful last line on this post about asexuality, which was clearly not written by non-libedoists, bitter that we’d stolen their word:
Generally speaking, in terms of sex drive and desire, the homosexual and the asexual could not be further apart
(read the rest of the article. It’s short, but… informative)
This quote suddenly made staggeringly clear to me the hidden inference behind this. People like simple lines. Asexuals and other 2nd dimensional creatures, can mess up a linear world view. There’s us and them. And, for the more refined, there’s moderate us, between two thems. It’s how a lot of people view sexuality, and the tiers look something like this:
2.Asexual (dragged down slightly because the word has been stolen by gay sympathisers. You know who you are!)
4.Deviants (BDSMers, mostly. The definition is left usefully flexible)
5.The Homosexual (male. If you’re a lesbian, or homoromantic woman, congratulations. You’ve broken the game)
6.The Transsexual (not quite sure what these people are, but they must clearly be like the homosexual, but more extreme)
This is why asexual and homosexual are more opposite than, say, asexual and straight. Because being gay isn’t defined by what it is, attraction to men, but by the level of sexual deviancy that the quality posesses.
Sexual Deviancy is a single-score game. Maybe you fit into more than one category? Tough. Pick the biggest number that applies to you, and that’s your score.
And this is where it got to me. I’m 5 on that list. I am a homosexual. I’m not sure if I’ve directly typed that on this blog, before, but I’ve said several times that I used to think I was demihomosexual and realised I was more than demi. I don’t use gay, because I’m really not. I find it difficult not to identify in some way as asexual, even if there’s no technical asexual left about me. Because I’m an asexual blogger, because I’m aromantic, because to invalidate asexuality is to invalidate whatever the heck I am.
I’ve been trying to introduce myself not as asexual, and it’s killing me. Outings are suddenly fifty times more painful than even asexual outings (which aren’t fun). I end up with people having no idea what I am, when what I want is to spread visibility. I want to be proud that I’m asexual. Without being asexual.
And if that happens, if I go back to the word asexual, without the doubt every time I introduce it, without the ‘so what’ of “Um… I used to identify as asexual?”, then guess what? I’m a homosexual, pretending to be asexual. I’m a repressed gay, dispite the fact that I think I’m doing pretty well at not being repressed. Dispite the fact that the biggest force ever repressing me was the fact that I knew I could be used as evidence that asexuality is invalid if I ever admitted who I was.
So now I want to say; yes. I am homosexual, and I will identify as asexual. I’m the betrayer in your midst. The wolf in sheep’s clothing. What’re you going to do about it?
Enough bitter not-quite-sure-which-bits-are-sarcasm for tonight? You’re probably right.