How to Write Demisexuality
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| Image description: The demisexual flag |
I have no doubt we’ve all experienced it before: we’re
watching a movie or TV show, reading a book, playing a video game… we encounter
a character who seems like they might be aromantic and/or asexual… and we watch
as they are eventually pushed into a relationship. It’s sadly a common occurrence
and one I discuss on the blog frequently. But as disappointing as these things
can be from an asexual or aromantic perspective, it is even worse to realize that,
when most of these things happen in media, that media is also squandering an
opportunity to have good demisexual or demiromantic representation, tossing it
out the window in their haste to simply hook their characters up.
If you are unfamiliar with the term, demisexuality is an aspec
identity where a person only experiences sexual attraction after forming a deep
emotional or romantic bond; additionally, “demiromantic” means the same for
romance specifically. I’ve discussed that definition before, but I haven’t really
discussed demisexuality as an identity yet. Today, however, I want to
focus on it specifically, and look at the ways in which writers can better
express demisexuality as its own unique, important, valid identity, and do so
in ways that do not invalidate asexuality or aromanticism. As I mentioned at
the start of this post, too often we are given examples in media where all
three identities are trampled upon, taking characters away from all three
groups at once. Instead of showing characters finding love or sexuality through
emotion, these relationships are often hasty and trope-riddled, done for the
sake of making a character seem “normal.”
So, in order to discuss what good demisexual representation
might look like and brainstorm ways it can be written well, I felt it was
important to get some input from a very good friend of mine who identifies as demisexual. Together, we got to the core of three things that I will discuss
today as good rules for how to write demisexual characters and respect the entire
asexual spectrum at the same time. Those three things are:
1.
Using terminology and showing that demisexual
tendencies are completely valid.
2.
Allowing characters to explore their emotions
and showing that you don’t have to sacrifice emotional development for the sake
of “passion.”
3.
Letting it be valid that a character only ever
has one sexual partner/person they are willing to be intimate with (although keep in mind that doesn't have to be the only way you ever write demisexuality).
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Terminology and
visibility
Demisexuality is its own unique identity. As such, it
requires its own unique tips and rules of thumb for writing. But there are also
some ways in which writing demisexuality is very similar to writing asexuality,
aromanticism, or other related identities. One of those things is something I
discussed in previous posts in this series, and that is the act of using
terminology. Something my friend and I discussed during our conversation was
the fact that she had no concept of demisexuality growing up, but knew “I can
have love without sex, but I can’t have sex without love.” But, as many of us
on the asexual spectrum can relate to, the lack of terminology made it
difficult for my friend to feel valid, especially because asexuality didn’t
quite seem like it fit her experience even when she eventually found that
terminology.
For that reason, actually using and defining the terms “demisexuality”
or “demiromantic” (and treating them as the valid orientations that they are) serves
as a great first step to writing good representation. Like I mentioned in a
previous post as well, even in settings where “demisexual” or “demiromantic”
aren’t terms you have access to for whatever reason, it is still possibly to
give your characters experiences that demisexual or demiromantic people will
relate to. For instance, you can have a character who knows they want to
experience romance, but who feels uncomfortable with relationships where sex is
undertaken before an emotional bond is formed.
Additionally, not only is using terminology an important
step in writing a good demisexual character, but another vital step is tossing
out the negative stereotypes and harmful descriptions we often see in both
media and everyday life. Just like “prude” is often lobbed against asexual and “frigid”
is used against aromantic people, it is not uncommon for demisexual or
demiromantic people to be dismissed or mocked by being called “picky” or “innocent”
or “old-fashioned.” This is often because demisexuality or anything even
remotely like it is portrayed using these tropes in media, which leads to the
next point.
Trust &
Understanding ≥ “Passion”
If you’re not familiar with the symbol (or if you, like me,
never want to think about algebra again in your life), you may be wondering
what strange glyph I wrote in the heading of this section. What on earth does
this section say? Quite simply, it’s something that is important to remember
when writing demisexual characters or any work that you want to make
demi/generally aspec friendly: “Trust and understanding are greater than or
equal to passion”.
Media often concerns itself with only one of these things,
and if you guessed passion, you would be correct. Passion, in this case, is
usually defined as sex and sex exclusively. And while there is absolutely nothing
wrong with portraying characters who are passionate in this manner, this misses
out on the wide array of other ways characters can be passionate or express
passion in their daily lives and relationships. It also ignores the fact that
trust and understanding between two characters can lead to passion in great
ways, which is why I specifically added “or equal to” to this heading. A lot of
media tries to tell us that physical passion exists independently of emotion, and while it
is true and valid that someone can enter into a physical relationship and not
desire emotion to be attached to it, it is also true that relationships full of
both passion and emotion deserve to be explored just as fully.
And yet, too often, it seems like media is uninterested in
letting people fully mature in their feelings. Naturally, within the limited
format of most media, there is only so much you can show; but nevertheless, it
seems like total trust, understanding, and emotional intimacy between
characters is sacrificed on the altar of expediency. Simply put, media acts
like there is no time to show the way deep bonds form between characters, so
instead they do it quickly and often poorly. Think back to the beginning of
this essay where I mentioned how often we see characters who seem aspec get
shoved into ill-conceived relationships (think of Seven of Nine or Cole, for
instance). Rather than show characters whose feelings percolate, mature, and
develop, we are shown instances where relationships are treated like a game of
leap frog and where emotion is bypassed for the sake of settling a character
down with someone because that is dubbed “normal”
I swear I didn’t start this blog with the intention of
dragging Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory with nearly every
single post, but it just so happens that the way he is written is an example of
what NOT to do nearly every single time. The same is true here. As I’ve mentioned
in previous posts, although Sheldon could theoretically be seen as demisexual
and/or demiromantic, the way the show portrays his relationships as “normalization”
is the antithesis of good representation. Furthermore, although the show
initially set Sheldon and Amy’s relationship up in a way that implied they
truly understood each other (with Amy essentially being a female version of
Sheldon in early episodes), the way their relationship evolves, in my opinion,
completely shatters that understanding. As Amy gets more interested in Sheldon,
the more she tries literally anything to get him to sleep with her, and the more
the people in his life shame him for not doing so, Amy herself included. So
when Sheldon does eventually sleep with her, it hardly feels like the
progression of a demisexual character finding a person who understands him and
respects him enough that he wants to be intimate with them.
Rather than a relationship built on trust, therefore,
Sheldon and Amy’s relationship feels as though it is built on deceit, trickery,
shame tactics, and, as mentioned before, eventual normalization. I cannot
stress this enough: if you are going to write a demisexual character, please
take steps to make sure your characters do not fall into these same patterns.
If you are writing a demisexual character, their eventual decision to be
physically intimate with their partner should not carry with it this weight of
“finally,” or seem to imply they’ve been bullied into such a
relationship. A good and respectful portrayal of a character embracing their
demisexuality will show the deep emotional bond they have formed with their
partner – and, in my opinion, that type of bond is not something that can exist
when their partner is concerned with browbeating the demisexual character
into changing themselves. In the same way that bad consent is not romantic,
having allosexual characters steamroll demisexual characters in the name of “passion”
is not sexy, not good representation, and is not okay in general.
Like with any aspec identity, it is important to show
characters living a demisexual lifestyle who are not treated like weird people to be shamed and eventually corrected. In addition to that, something else
my friend and I discussed is that we hope to see it normalized that it’s okay
to only ever want to be intimate with one person in your lifetime, if that. Media
often makes it seem like that is a strange unthinkable phenomenon in this day
and age (or in any day and age, quite frankly) and in so doing, alienates certain demisexual people even further. Media often makes it seem like being committed to
someone is either a total buzzkill, a severe and tedious struggle, or even just
completely impossible. So let’s unpack that and examine what writing this specific kind of demisexuality better
might look like.
Having Only One
Partner ≠ Broken
Okay, okay, no more math symbols, I promise. But it is
important to debunk an all-too common thing we see in media as it pertains to some demisexual people. In many a post on this blog, I have discussed the aphobic belief
that “surely everyone on the entire planet must be sexual,” but a related and equally offensive addition to that is the
notion that, not only is everyone having sex, they are required to have multiple sexual
partners throughout their lifetime.
Obviously there is nothing wrong with that. Having multiple
sexual partners does not make you a bad human being, nor does it mean you
should be discriminated against, harassed, or abused, and not all demisexual people are automatically monogamous. But at the same time, having only one sexual partner should not be seen as something
worthy of ridicule or shame. And yet, all too often, media tries to portray it
as such. For instance, I am reminded of a previous piece I wrote where I mention
the character of Emma from Glee.
I would argue that Emma has some shades of demisexuality, since she is shown to
only ever truly love or want to be intimate with glee club leader Will
Schuster. While there are definitely some problems with how Emma’s potential
aspec identity is portrayed, the show definitely demonstrates how much Emma and
Will belong together. However, when it comes to other situations Emma finds
herself in, we swing back towards utter cringe-worthiness. Despite the notion
of Emma and Will’s relationship being largely well portrayed, these are
countless instances in which other characters mock, belittle, insult, and
mistreat Emma because of her aspec tendencies. Rather than define this as valid demisexuality – as Emma wanting to be with the one person she truly loves – it
is seen as a problem, a defect to be corrected.
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| Image description: Filed under "things I wish I could say I was making up" - this screenshot is from an episode of Glee featured on sex education, and one that makes a particular point to roast Emma. The show, for all its diversity, has never seemed to hear of the asexual spectrum, so instead of any aspec identity, they choose to refer to Emma as celibate and here she performs with the "Celibacy Club", singing a song which, unbeknownst to her, is actually about sex (she thinks it's about dessert, hence the pictures behind them). This type of cringeworthy mockery of Emma and her "celibacy" happens numerous times throughout the series. |
This type of attitude has real world implications for demisexual people, and indeed for aspec people across the spectrum. But for demisexual people in particular, it sets them up in an especially pernicious no-win scenario because, despite the fact that they have attained a partner with whom a sexual relationship is desirable, they can still be mistreated because they’re not having sex with enough people. Just like it is absurd to abuse someone for having multiple sexual partners over the course of their lifetime, it is likewise absurd to abuse someone for only having one.
So how does this relate to writing good demisexual
characters? To explore that, I want to draw attention to a good example my
friend gave me during the course of our conversation: Arthur and Molly Weasley (in fact, I would
actually argue that quite a few of the couples throughout the Harry Potter series can
probably be seen as good examples of demisexual couples). Arthur and Molly
Weasley provide an example of a couple whose commitment to one another does not
diminish them, their relationship, or their dynamic. Rather, it strengthens it,
and the bond they’ve built with each other and their family is seen as an
exciting one to Harry, who is not used to seeing such a strong, safe, altogether
happy family dynamic. If Arthur and Molly Weasley were treated using any of the
problematic tropes we often see lobbied against couples who remain devoted to
each other, that dynamic would not exist. But even for characters that do not
have families, the idea of being devoted to one person is not stogy or lacking romance/passion.
In fact, when demisexual characters in a relationship are portrayed well, quite
the opposite is true.
But there is something else that is very important to
consider when creating your demisexual characters. Let’s say you’ve created a
well-rounded, well-thought-out individual whose demisexual and/or demiromantic
tendencies are defined and explored throughout the story. They are allowed to
be what they are, they are accepted by people around them, and their story is
not about being corrected, but rather finding someone who understands them.
What could you possibly be missing? What’s the final question you should ask
yourself to know if what you have on your hands is good representation or not?
That question is the following: does your demisexual character invalidate
asexuality?
Writing Demisexuality
in a Way that Does Not Invalidate Asexuality
As I mentioned above in the section about Sheldon and Amy, the
pair is not a good example of demisexuality because Sheldon’s entire storyline,
even separate from his relationship with Amy, exists to make it seem like he is
freakish. As the posterchild for many aphobic tropes, Sheldon’s aspec
tendencies are used to mock him and mark him as other from his friends.
Therefore, when he does eventually enter into a romantic and sexual romance with
Amy, it does not feel like he is being allowed to explore his own identity.
Rather, it feels like he is being forcibly dragged to the conclusion his friends
– and the audience – want the most. Although it is an extreme example to be
sure, Sheldon and Amy present us with an example of why writing demisexuality
needs to be done with careful intentionality to avoid creating aphobic
situations for either group. Something many asexual and/or aromantic people
have been forced to endure is the offensive and irksome retort “you just haven’t
found the right person yet” when they try to come out to people. In the case of
demisexual or demiromantic people, that is true, and so sometimes portraying
demisexuality can seem like asexual erasure if not done carefully.
One of the best ways to avoid falling into this trap is to not
have other people react that way to your character. If the character considers these things themselves as part of their own exploration of their identity, that’s fine;
that is something my friend herself even noted, knowing that she did feel like
she eventually wanted romance or marriage, but also knowing she would only ever
want to be intimate with someone she truly trusted. But when it comes to other people
reacting to your aspec character of any identity, it is a good idea to have them
react with acceptance – not “you’re just this” or “you’re only that.” These
words are limiting, dismissive, and carry with them a level of disbelief which
makes it difficult for demisexual people to feel safe or feel like they are
valid. It also makes it so that other aspec people might feel fear or shame
when exploring the possibilities of their identity, because it feels like if
you realize you might be demi rather than ace that you’ve actually just been
lying to yourself the entire time. Such a thing can wreak havoc with any aspec
person’s sense of identity and confidence.
So in addition to not using these dismissive terms, what are some other things that can be done to make sure your demisexual characters are very clearly their own valid people without taking away the validity of other identities? One of the biggest things I as an AroAce person can say is what I always say – the more visibility for aspec identities of all kind, the better, especially in multiple works. If you are worried about portraying demisexuality in a way that doesn’t invalidate asexuality, perhaps a good workaround is to have both an asexual and a demisexual in the same story, allowing both to explore the similarities and differences in their respective identities together. In my opinion, by highlighting the diversity of the spectrum, all aspec identities will benefit and your characters will go from good ones to great ones.
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It may seem like there are a lot of rules for how to write
aspec characters without offending one side or the other, allowing all
identities to exist together. It may seem like there are a lot of bad examples
to wade through, so much so that it’s almost overwhelming. I get that. When my
friend and I were discussing some of the unfortunate examples we see in our
favorite pieces of media and their fandoms, it was easy to reflect on the
negative emotions those things make us feel. I myself described it to her as
sometimes feeling like I’m either an alien or I’m on an alien planet. But it is
in those emotions – that feeling of being misunderstood and confused – that the
potential for great aspec character exists, and it is an emotion that
translates perfectly to demisexual representation.
I firmly believe that all people, regardless of their orientation,
long to have people they trust and who trust them. The search for understanding
is universal and should be treated as such in media, instead of the portrayal
that characters building up an understanding of each other is some weird
archaic notion that has no place in storytelling. I believe the exact opposite
is true and that we need more of that in stories. “Slow burn” is not just a
drama tactic, but rather the perfect way to let your characters get to know,
understand, and trust each other before they’re ready to commit to romance, sex,
or anything else. And writing stories that center on trust, understanding, and
emotion is not boring. Rather, these things speak to the core of who we are as
people. So, instead of having these complexities deter you from trying to write
good representation, I hope it inspires you. I hope you see it as a challenge
to create stories about trust, understanding, and acceptance - and I hope it’s a
challenge more and more writers are willing to rise to in the future.
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