How to Write Asexuality and Romance

Image description: Seven of Nine and The Doctor in Star Trek: Voyager. Spoiler alert, they're not the relationship we got in the show - I'll be talking about *that* relationship later in this post - nor are they perfect. But they definitely come closer to what I would like to see in aspec romance (as in, trust, understanding, etc.). How can we get to a place where we see more aspec romance? I'm glad you asked! That's the subject of today's post.

 

As an aromantic asexual and a blogger, I talk a lot about my hope that media will show me more characters that end up unattached and happy. However, as a fangirl and a writer, although I am still constantly on a mission to see more aspec-specific things in fandom, I definitely appreciate a well-told romance and spend a lot of time and effort attempting to craft that in my own works. Being an aspec person and enjoying characters falling in love are not things that are inherently at odds with each other, but they can sometimes feel like they are. Why? At the risk of sounding like a pop song, it’s because there’s a lot of bad romance out there – in media and fandom works alike.

Different people (aspec or otherwise) naturally will have different ideas about what constitutes “bad”, and in this case, a poorly told or problematic romance can be bad for any number of reasons. When it comes to being bad specifically from an aspec perspective, however, I think those reasons tend to be more universal, and I’ve discussed a number of these issues in my trope series and beyond. These specific types of “bad romances” are usually bad because they destroy a character’s previously non-sexual and/or non-romantic nature for the sake of a more “normalizing” relationship. But even portrayals of canonically aspec characters can fall into certain traps as well. Which is why I am doing this, the next installment in my “How to Write Aspec Characters” series.

As with all the posts in this series (and every last single post on this blog), the things I say here are extremely subjective. These are my opinions based on my own experiences and what I personally believe makes for good aspec characters – and in this case, good aspec-friendly romances. Therefore, do not take anything I’m saying here as an absolute truth, but rather guidelines, tips, and tricks that can get you thinking about better portrayals of aspec characters and romances as you write or read or interact with media and fandom.

Spoiler warning! 

The Big Bang Theory (various, especially later seasons)

Star Trek: Voyager ("Human Error" & "Endgame")

Dragon Age: Inquisition & Trespasser (specifically Cole's storyline)

Downton Abbey (various, especially later seasons)

Belle Revolte by Linsey Miller

Critical Role (Campaign Two, "Fond Farewells")

Content warning: Discussions of Aphobia/Asexual Discrimination

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My definition of “bad”

Before I dive into my personal notions of what makes a good aspec romance, I want to elaborate briefly on what I believe makes one “bad.” In general, that term might not be helpful, so perhaps a better way to say it would be “aphobically tropey”; because indeed, when it comes to characters who were seemingly non-romantic or non-sexual who are suddenly pushed into a romance, there are usually several troublesome elements at play, many of which I cover throughout my tropes essay series. However, I think all of these things can be summarized in one mega issue: a romance that devalues, diminishes, or tries to disprove aspec tendencies is not a good romance, whether the characters are aspec or not. Although that is a quick summation, it’s not an easy one, so let me briefly unpack that a bit more and look at what I feel are common mistakes people make with romance that fall into those categories.

For a start, if you’ve ever accidentally or unintentionally done this in your writing, don’t beat yourself up because it’s probably not your fault. Part of what makes aphobic tropes so pernicious is that they’ve become ingrained as “storytelling devices,” especially when it comes to romance as a genre. But if you do want to avoid falling into this trap, I recommend asking yourself an important question that is almost never asked: quite simply, do your characters really need a romantic relationship? Most media, I feel, assumes romance is totally required and leaves it at that, never stopping to question if the romance is actually necessary or not. I believe this is the reason why we tend to see so many seemingly non-romantic and/or non-sexual characters that are pushed into romantic relationships in the first place: because writers have internalized the notion that a happily ever after, or at the very least character growth, must come because of romance, and that only romantic or sexual relationships are normal. Some of this probably also comes about because of the natural tendencies to “ship” characters in media, and how ingrained that notion has become. We have been taught to expect and seek out romance for characters of all kinds, and thus very few people stop to consider that just because you can do a romantic or sexual plot does not always mean you should.

This leads to another very important point when deciding if you should do romance and how. In my opinion, a good rule of thumb is that if a character is reading as non-romantic, chances are they should stay that way. Similarly, if a character seems to have non-sexual tendencies, but it seems like romance isn’t out of the question for them, what comes next should likewise be carefully considered. We’ll get to more of that a bit later, but there are plenty of instances in which this is totally valid – such as when portraying the romantic spectrum of asexuality, or when portraying demisexuality and/or demiromanticism. What is important is whether or not these instances seem like erasure. Is the character’s relationship too sudden and too out of the blue? Is it done to normalize them? Does it seem like pushing them into a relationship of this nature flies in the face of everything that’s been established for them? If the answer to any of those questions is yes, it might be a good time to consider whether the character has aspec or arospec tendencies that are being erased by the romance.

But not all instances where romance is cringeworthy from an aspec perspective come about because a non-romantic and/or non-sexual character was forced into any of the above scenarios. Sometimes romance that is bad from an aspec perspective can involve a character being harangued by people in their life, or where aspec tendencies are treated like a “fear of commitment” or “denying yourself happiness.” Sometimes it can be a character who is relentlessly pursued until they finally relent and agree to enter into a romantic relationship, or who are convinced that romance or sex are the only things that will make them whole. Some of these tropes have other layers to them, and I guarantee there is better analysis out there than I myself can provide, but I think these examples show a bit of how things that have shades of aphobia can also become genre staples. Again, to be clear, not all of these things are necessarily coming from an aphobic place, and sometimes they can be done in ways that sidestep aphobia entirely. But it is far more common to see examples where they fall right into the trap.

How “not” to write aspec romance

Before I get into suggestions about how you “should” write aspec romance, let me break down those above points about how you “shouldn’t” write aspec romance. Again, all the quotes are here because these are just guidelines, but I believe they do provide a good starting point. To highlight some of these issues, I am going to use couples I’ve discussed on this blog before and briefly look at where I believe they went wrong based on the things I mentioned in the last section.

·         Sheldon/Amy from The Big Bang Theory – Another day, another post where I drag The Big Bang Theory. I am so sorry, but also not sorry, because I feel this needs to be said (and said, and said, and said). Sheldon Cooper is a prime example of what happens when you conceptualize that a character is freakish in part because they don’t understand sex or romance, and then push that character into a relationship for the sake of normalizing them, both of which lean heavily on aphobic tropes. When it comes to Sheldon’s relationship with Amy, we also see the “relentless pursuit” notion I mentioned. This trope is not limited just to goofy cartoons; the idea that someone can comically pursue someone until they “catch” them has so much to unpack that I think I would need a team of people to do it. Focusing just on Amy’s specific pursuit of Sheldon, as I’ve mentioned before, the way she and the others around Sheldon shame him for not sleeping with her is extremely damaging from an aspec perspective. And the real tragedy of it is that “Shamy” could have been a great example of a demisexual and/or demiromantic couple – two people who really understand each other and who build a relationship on that understanding. There are shades of that throughout the series in the form of good conversations or moments of respect for one another, but those moments are completely obliterated by the normalizing elements forced upon Sheldon, the way he is guilted and shamed, and the way Amy does anything to try and get him into a sexual relationship. I really hope future writers try to avoid these things when writing aspec romance or romance in general.

·         Seven of Nine/Chakotay from Star Trek: Voyager – Okay, this couple is not exactly a popular one like Sheldon and Amy; in fact, most Trekkies know that it’s somewhat infamous for how little it makes sense (to the point of seemingly being abandoned entirely in the newer series Star Trek: Picard). The fact that most people seem to agree this couple wasn’t the best idea is admittedly a bit heartening, but the fact that it exists at all gives me some things I need to discuss for this “don’t” section. I talk a LOT about Seven of Nine as a character and the ways she is forced into romance (often seemingly against her will). In this case, perhaps it is a bit unfair to focus in on the episode “Human Error,” because it’s actually not even the real Chakotay, but rather a hologram of him with whom Seven is practicing romance. And yet this episode gives a very stark example of how romance tropes can go horribly, horribly wrong, and thus it needs to be addressed. “Human Error,” right down to the name of the episode, is supposed to be about Seven exploring elements of her humanity (more on that in the next point), and this is taken into a very insulting realm when it becomes a metaphor about how Seven wants her life to be perfect and this desire for perfection means she denies her emotions. The entire episode completely ignores the many times Seven has shown emotion and instead centers in on romance, trying to frame “intimacy” as the only emotion she need be concerned with, and berating her when she disagrees. This comes back around a few episodes later when Seven allows herself to have an actual romance with the real Chakotay. Despite the general notion that the entire romance is a weird and slapdash mess, Chakotay and Seven can nevertheless teach us that any romance where someone must be berated into being with the other person is probably not a good relationship, and assuming that a character is denying their emotions if they don’t want to be in that relationship is something I feel should be avoided in writing most romances if you want them to seem genuine and well-crafted.

·         Cole/Maryden from Dragon Age: Inquisition – Cole is another character I talk about an absolute ton on this blog, but a brief overview for those who may not know who he is: Cole is a spirit from the video game Dragon Age: Inquisition, and during the course of the game you can choose to either make him more spirit-like or more human. If you choose to make him more human, it is revealed he later gets a girlfriend named Maryden. Right away, this provides an example of what I said earlier in this essay about how important it is to let characters with aspec tendencies retain them. Cole is one such character. The entire scenario is made worse, however, by the fact that this is framed like an essential part of Cole’s human development. When writing romance amid a fantasy, sci-fi, or otherwise extraordinary backdrop, I believe it is very important to make sure you do not frame romance as the only/most important path to humanity or being respected by humans. However, this lesson is just as important for human characters as well. Being in a romantic relationship is not the only path, and being respected as a human being should not be dependent on whether you have one. It should also not automatically be assumed to be a reward, a shortcut for completion of character growth, or an instant happy ending. Which brings me to my last example.

·         Mary/Henry from Downton Abbey – In the previous three examples, Sheldon, Seven, and Cole are all characters who have non-sexual and non-romantic tendencies; that is not the case with this example. I discussed Mary’s predicament in my post about “Redefining Love,” a great starting point if you’re considering just what love in your story might mean and how it relates to your story overall, but her character arc is very applicable here. Mary herself is not an aspec character, and in fact is a character to whom romance is a very central part of her story. But her eventual romance with Henry Talbot is an extremely pronounced example of the “you’re denying yourself happiness” trope mentioned above. Despite the fact that Mary is not aspec, the way she is berated by the people around her (and by extension the show’s writer) so devalues her ability to choose what she wants in her life and in her relationships. Although I did not discuss “denying yourself happiness” as a trope in my trope series, I find it can be incredibly toxic from an aspec perspective and plan on discussing it in an upcoming post about how media encourages us to see being alone – and often being aspec – as a form of punishment. For this post, however, suffice to say that attaining romance can of course be seen as a happy thing for a character and something they eventually want to achieve, and perhaps they themselves are actively sabotaging their happiness in some way. But using that as something to shout at them or lob at them or explain “bad behavior” is usually not a good idea for aspec characters and non-aspec ones alike.

Image description: Mary and Henry from Downton Abbey. The mere fact that I watched all of Downton Abbey (several times) should be proof enough that I am a sucker for a well-told romance. But in my opinion, this particular romance was not it.

Building a better aspec romance

Now that I’ve discussed (read: vented yet again) about what “not” to do when writing an aspec romance, let’s finally get down to the core of how to build a “good” – or at least better, less-trope filled – aspec romance. Earlier, I mentioned that a non-sexual character who has a romance should be carefully considered, so let me give you a few of my tips on how I think writers can do that and how that can translate into the romance you write:

·         What to consider – Let’s say you took my earlier advice and you asked yourself if romance is necessary. Maybe you took a look at your character and realized they’re non-sexual, but on the romantic spectrum, and they definitely want to pursue a romance, the romance is going to be an important part of them or their story, or just something you really want to include. What else should you be considering? A few key things, of course, are what romantic orientation will they be and how will that affect the story? Also vital is where will they be on the asexual spectrum? This does not just mean asexual, demisexual, grey asexual, etc.; you should also consider how they feel about sex in general and how that affects the story too. While it is of course possible to write stories about asexual people who have sex for any number of reasons, these things should be done carefully to avoid making it seem like your aspec character is fixed or wasn’t aspec to begin with. This leads to my next point.

·         Do your research – I feel like I say this a lot, but it fits every time. Go ahead and research terminology. Think about how you can work those terms into your story as something your aspec character can discuss with their romantic partner(s). Read stories – both real and fictional – about couples on the asexual spectrum, or where one member in the relationship is aspec and how they navigate that with their allosexual partner(s). Keep in mind that these things are subjective and may change on a case by case basis, but they will serve as good starting points for how you can still highlight your character’s aspec nature throughout their journey.

·         Love, actually – No, not the romcom. What I mean here sounds pretty obvious, but I feel it does sometimes need to be said: a good romance in general involves your couple actually loving each other. Media often times conflates “love” (as in, romantic love) with passion or sex. While both of those things are often a part of love for many people, they are not inherently one and the same – which, if you’re reading this blog, hopefully you already know or are learning. When it comes to writing aspec romance, write the romance. Write the love. Write passion from the perspective of being passionate about each other and what makes each other tick, rather than just assuming passion can only happen in the bedroom. To that end, the next point…

·         Rethink your definitions of “romantic” and/or “sexy” – I am a passionate believer that clear consent between your characters is incredibly sexy or romantic (depending on what you’re going for). For instance, having a character ask permission to kiss another character is, in my eyes, the quickest way to make me squeal with delight. Something I say in my “How to Write Demisexuality” post is that bad consent is not romantic and having allosexual characters steamroll aspec ones in the name of passion is not sexy, despite what a lot of media might have us believe. When writing a romance, think about things like consent, but also think about things like deep conversations, how to show your characters trust and respect one another, how their partnership helps them navigate the hardships in life, etc.. And guess what? All of these things can happen amid the backdrop of scenes that are generally considered to be romantic. The old writing adage of “show, don’t tell,” is very apt here; you can show these things in your writing and create a very strong, believable bond between romantic partners that transcends tropes and tired writing to become a very good couple – aspec or otherwise, really.

·         If you can’t tell, show – This is something I’ve said before, but speaking of show don’t tell, if you don’t feel you can accurately use terminology for whatever reason (a historical setting, for instance), you can still show that your character is aspec through a number of methods. For example, if you’re trying to show that a character is demi, perhaps you can have them tell their romantic partner(s) that they knew they could only love someone they really knew and trusted, and now they’ve found that. If you have a character who doesn’t want to have sex, you can show the ways they’ve rejected sex-based norms or expectations in society and how that has affected their life, and how it affects their new-found romantic relationship now.

·         Let your couple talk about aspec stuff – Depending on who in your couple is aspec, this may change a little, but the core idea remains the same: the aspec identities of your character(s) should come up in some way, shape, or form if your intent is to showcase an aspec romance. Whether you can use terminology or not, talking about your character’s identity is a very important part of showing that they are aspec. Even if your character’s romantic partner or partners can’t comprehend asexuality at first or things are a little rocky, it’s important to show the process they go through to get to understanding, and even better to show them establishing clear boundaries together. Those talks can go any number of ways – and as I mentioned earlier, can happen within the context of other romantic moments – but for good aspec representation within romance to exist, those conversations have to be present in some capacity.

Unfortunately, because there are not yet many examples of aspec romance, I don’t have nearly as many examples that showcase what to do the way I did for what not to do. But we are beginning to see more aspec romance, especially in the young adult novels of today (some of which I have reviewed for this blog). While I do have a few little nitpicks about specific scenes in certain books, one example I feel is very strong is in Linsey Miller’s Belle Revolte, where Annette confesses to her love interest Yvonne that she does not want to have sex. Yvonne’s confident assurance that she and Annette can define love in their own way without sex being a part of it is deeply poignant, moving, and well done – something I would genuinely like to see more of in media moving forward.

Another example comes from a recent post I did about aspec representation in the webseries Critical Role and how the romantic partnership of characters Caleb and Essek is affected (and, in my opinion, strengthened) by the fact that Essek is demisexual. Unfortunately, there are some fans who feel this relationship was poorly done, in part because of the things that I myself applaud as good aspec representation. Thus, this can sometimes be a complicated issue. Despite this, however, I think Essek and Caleb’s romance shows how two characters can slowly develop trust with each other (very much keeping with Essek’s demi nature and also his personality) and how trust and friendship can deepen. The same is true of Josephine from Dragon Age: Inquisition, who also has demisexual/demiromantic vibes and who has an incredibly sweet romance in game, one built on deep caring and affection.

All of these examples are of couples just beginning their relationship, and thus we don’t see much in terms of how those relationships flourish and how aspec tendencies are a part of that. But they nevertheless provide good templates for how the romantic side of the asexual spectrum can be honored, and how romance can coexist with aspec tendencies. These templates, combined with thinking deeply and being open to new stories, can allow writers of all kinds to create diverse, varied, and respectful aspec romances and good aspec representation. Even in stories without aspec characters, such a thing is possible (something I will get into in more detail in my next “How to Write” post, which is all about how to write allosexual characters who don't invalidate aspec characters).

Image description: (Top) Josephine Montilyet from Dragon Age: Inquisition. I am adamant in my belief that Josie is basically a Disney princess, which makes it even cooler that she has aspec vibes. She also has what I consider one of the cutest and most romantic romances in all of Dragon Age.
(Bottom) A screenshot of Josie's romance with my best friend's Inquisitor (screenshot courtesy of her, thanks, bestie!). Yes, during her first kiss, Josie's foot does pop up. Like a princess. There are those who think Josie's romance is boring, but I argue it is exactly the type of romance we need, especially because it honors Josie aspec vibes.

In general, romance can be a tricky genre. Everyone has things they do or do not like, things they do or do not find romantic, and things they do or do not want to see for a couple – or even a type of couple in general. For proof of that, just look at fandom, where one person’s favorite ship can be something another person absolutely despises. And just like allosexual people have different opinions on what makes a good romance, so do aspec people. Just like people from all walks of life can either love or hate romance, so can people on the asexual spectrum.

No matter what you do, not everyone will be satisfied and that’s okay. In general, there are some people who are actually romance-repulsed, and that’s valid. But while some of us seek to avoid romance and others seek it out, there is one thing we should all be bringing to the table, and that is a desire to see the romance told well. A well-told romance is more than a bodice-ripper (after all, as Caduceus Clay from Critical Role points out, those can be expensive to fix); rather, a good romance should be about what makes two people “click,” and that should be compelling enough to make us fall in love with their love. That is something all people can and should be able to share in. It’s time to abandon the old, tired, worn tropes and begin creating new paradigms for what our romances look like, no matter what kinds of characters we cast in the lead roles.