Intim-ace-y

Though the straight-up definition of intimacy is a bit broader (generally described as closeness), it becomes clear that much of society views this in another way. In the minds of the allosexual (or more mainstream) world, intimacy is generally used to refer to the physical and the sexual, physical closeness and sexual intercourse. This narrowed definition leaves a lot of aces out; so much so, in fact, that some aces wonder if they can experience intimacy at all, with anyone. This can be painful, as many aces are viewed as cold and robotic, incapable of love and closeness. The truth? With asexuality, there is freedom from mainstream boxes, and we can focus on intimacy in a broader and more diverse way, thereby deepening intimate connections all around us.

Being ace has often left me wondering where that would leave me. Of course, I have friends and family but, like many of us, most of my friends are not ace. Even though I am close with many people, it is common knowledge that, eventually, everyone ends up in a romantic and sexual relationship that becomes their ultimate priority. They will get married and live with that person and spend most of their time with that person, leaving everyone else as just a little bit “less than.” I have experienced this with people I was very close to who have eventually faded from view as they’ve ended up with someone. In the eyes of the world (Western, at least), this is the most significant relationship and nothing else measures up. People are expected to push other connections more to the wayside in favor of this one special person, stopping intimacy from developing among all types of connections like it could. As an ace person in a sea of allos, I have often wondered how to fit into all this. I have always wanted to be the most important person to someone (parents not included). Involvement in the queer community and queer relationships has led me to be able to radically re-imagine how intimacy can look, beyond a cookie-cutter allosexual marriage that, even as a heteroromantic person, I might never have due to my asexuality. Whether that comes to me or not at some point is irrelevant because what I have now is just as powerful.

I guess on some level I always felt soulmates in the form of friends. I have that now, for sure, and I know it’s never going away. I officially entered a queerplatonic relationship (or QPR) on June 8th, though the story does not begin there. For those not in the know, a QPR is a common dynamic among the ace and aro communities where friends enter a more defined relationship that is extremely emotionally close, but still not sexual or traditionally romantic. It is somewhere between being mere friends and dating someone in the traditional sense, though some people in these relationships will have children together or maybe even get married for the societal benefits. This official label is not necessary either as some people might have this level of closeness without feeling a need to put their finger on it. As I said, the story does not begin here, and long before this label and discussion came up, the same things were happening anyway. 

I first met him almost three years ago exactly. Over many months, what started small blossomed into more, and by the new year of 2022, we were seeing each other consistently and this has continued since then to this day. The intimacy evolved over time more than I ever thought it would. To the outside world, we might look like a “couple”, but he is gay, and I am not a man. So, instead, we have crafted our own intimacy and way of being. Being platonic soulmates was clear long before the QPR label was added to it. We see each other every weekend; we text throughout the week; we share the same interests; we buy each other anniversary gifts and celebrate major holidays; we vacation together; we have talked about moving in together. We hold hands and cuddle and say that we love each other. He is not asexual but we both understand the need for queering the practices of intimacy to get what we cannot elsewhere, in the heteronormative society of the world. When I ventured into the QPR discussion, it seemed like a fair addition to just label what was already happening.

Inherently, I suppose being ace challenges everything we normally think about intimacy, as it so often deflects or does not include the sexual. Though it may be easier to develop this type of intimacy with other queer community members, it is not impossible for the aces to find. As we continue to radically re-imagine what intimacy looks like and what our ace place is in the world, we can go back towards the root of the definition: closeness. And this closeness doesn’t ever have to rely on the sexual or even the romantic. This closeness, with anyone of our choosing, allows us to be that important person to someone (or even multiple people). Without boundaries, without expectations, without conformity.