Asexual Pride Flag A lot of Quaker writing on sex reads like it’s trying to be sex-positive. That’s good, in the sense that religious approaches to sex in the Christian world aren’t generally expected to be, and it’s fair to say that we have this capacity to great pleasure and it can be godly to make use of it. I think sex-positive approaches to spirituality and – more importantly – to sex education are great. We don’t need to be telling people they shouldn’t have sex, just that they should do it responsibly and in a way that is fair and kind to them and to their partner(s). A lot of Quaker writing on sex reads like it’s trying to be sex-positive. That’s good, in the sense that religious approaches to sex in the Christian world aren’t generally expected to be, and it’s fair to say that we have this capacity to great pleasure and it can be godly to make use of it. I think sex-positive approaches to spirituality and – more importantly – to sex education are great. We don’t need to be telling people they shouldn’t have sex, just that they should do it responsibly and in a way that is fair and kind to them and to their partner(s).

There’s one problem with such sex-positivity, though. We can end up making it sound like sex is an essential part of the human experience – in fact, sometimes we come right out and say that, in more or less similar words. The problem is that it isn’t . It is for some of us, perhaps, even most of us. But there are those for whom it is not part of their experience. People who experience little or no sexual desire, or for whom it is never directed at another person (though solo enjoyment is still a sexual experience). There are those who experience it seldom, or only in certain circumstances, such as those who are demisexual (definitions of which vary). These people are not broken (though changes in experience as a result of trauma require careful consideration), any more than those who experience sexual desire for people of the same gender are broken. To be asexual, or anywhere on the ‘ace spectrum’, is as valid a sexuality as any other.

We also potentially do harm by asserting that sex should always be part of a romantic relationship. Just as there are people who are asexual, there are people who are aromantic – and not everyone who is aromantic is asexual. Then there’s people whose romantic and sexual orientations do not match up – there are people who are heteroromantic and homosexual, or vice-versa, or bisexual and hetero- or homoromantic (or, again, vice-versa). The exaltation of romantic relationships, whether as a prerequisite for sex or simply as the default lifestyle to be expected, can be harmful. A fast friendship can be loving and supportive without being romantic. Platonic partnership is a possibility that we don’t portray or validate enough.

There are also those who, despite experiencing sexual desire, feel led to celibacy, whether for a time or as a life-long leading. If it is a genuine leading, we should not treat it as them refusing to behave in the right way. There may be a role for challenging the leading, so they may be more sure of it – some people think they feel that leading because they are uncomfortable with their own sexuality, and we do not always read our own leading aright. Still, it is more than possible to be led in this way, and that should be respected.

The message need only be this – that whatever sexual desire you do or do not experience, that’s okay. That acting on it, provided that there is care and consent (and bearing in mind that some people cannot meaningfully consent), that no-one is seriously harmed, or harmed at all without consent, is okay; how much consensual harm is okay is not something to get into right now. Not acting on that desire is also okay, whatever works for you. Just be true to yourself.

Written July 2019