“I’ve never felt more at home in my body, more accepting and loving of myself”
Sam Rose is joined by artist and advocate, Julia Alora, who shares a brilliant essay on asexuality before digging deep into asexual history, how patriarchy impacts the ace community, and what we can all do to support asexual or questioning family and youth.
Our Guest
Julia Alora

Julia Alora (she/they) is a Portland-based sculptress creating biologically influenced sculptures out of recycled materials. Born and raised in the wilds of upstate NY, her love of the natural world drives her to find beauty in everything, at times expressing this through sharp, fierce grotesqueries, or smooth, living visions of steel and glass. Her creations hearken to the viewers to consider their connection to nature, their responsibilities to the world and to others. She incorporates ethically-sourced bone, junkyard steel, dumpster treasures, and other found objects, into lovingly made monsters and figures.
Learn more @ juliaalora.com
The Discussion
Sam Rose Preminger: Welcome to Breaking Down Patriarchy. I’m Sam Rose Preminger. For those who aren’t familiar with me, I’m an editor and producer here on the podcast, but I’m stepping in just for today–Amy will be back next week as normal–but I want to host a very special episode, and I’m hoping it’ll become apparent shortly while I’m here.
If you’re listening to this on the day that it releases, it is the very end of Pride month. And here at the back end of Pride, we are going to be discussing the last but not least, letter in our LGBTQIA alphabet. That A stands for Asexual, and I have to admit, it’s not something that I knew a lot about asexuality until meeting and starting to date and falling in love with an amazing asexual person. I am very excited to be joined today by my partner, Julia Alora, who is an incredible sculptor, artist, and advocate on behalf of Asexuality, and she’s going to be joining us to share an essay titled Six Unsexy Questions, after which I’ll be interviewing her as we break down a bit more about what it means to be asexual, looking at mixed orientation relationships and challenges faced by asexuals, including how patriarchy affects them.
But before we kick things off, we’ll start off as usual with a professional bio: Julia Alora (she/they) is a Portland-based sculptress creating biologically influenced sculptures out of recycled materials. Born and raised in the wilds of upstate NY, her love of the natural world drives her to find beauty in everything, at times expressing this through sharp, fierce grotesqueries, or smooth, living visions of steel and glass. Her creations hearken to the viewers to consider their connection to nature, their responsibilities to the world and to others. She incorporates ethically-sourced bone, junkyard steel, dumpster treasures, and other found objects, into lovingly made monsters and figures. And I am so grateful to have her joining the podcast. Welcome, Julia.
Julia Alora: Thanks for having me. Very happy to be here.
SRP: So in part one of our episode, Julia’s going to be sharing her essay and then I will rejoin us in part two for a discussion. But for now, I will turn it over to you…
JA: Hello, Julia Alora here. I’ll be sharing my essay titled Six Unsexy Questions, which are the questions I’ve gotten asked the most often about being asexual. This is an essay I wrote to dissuade people from asking me out. Here we go.
Please don’t be offended, but I’m not interested in your genitals. Any of your genitals. I’m sure they’re all great, each as beautiful and unique as the person they’re attached to, but they just don’t…. do it for me, you know? Or maybe… you don’t know, since Asexuals only make up 1% of the population, which is the same percentage as people with serial killer tendencies, so it is about as likely to run into one as it is the other. Lucky for you, I’m here to answer six unsexy questions I’ve been asked about being asexual, and there’s not a serial killer here… probably.
- “What is an asexual?”
We’re the A at the end of the queer alphabet (sorry allies, that letter isn’t there for you). Simply put, an asexual person does not experience sexual attraction. They still feel romantic, aesthetic, intellectual, and platonic attraction, just not the one regarding slimy crotch maneuvers. There’s actually a whole grayscale rainbow of people under the Asexual umbrella. Asexuals, or Aces, like me, Demis, who feel sexual desire with people they’ve formed close bonds to, Aros, who don’t experience *romantic* attraction, Autos, who are sexually drawn to themselves (not cars), and graysexuals, who are somewhere between sexual and asexual. Asexuals, much like serial killers, look just like anyone else. They can be stylish, or wear comfortable clothes, or extravagant costumes, or nothing at all! Asexuals can even look sexy. Confusing, I know. A black ring on the right middle finger is the agreed upon signal to others that an individual is Ace, but I have yet to meet a straight person who knows that. We’re mostly ‘invisible’ as far as sexualities go. - “When did you realize you were Asexual?”
I realized this in 2015 when I was seeing five people at once, and was not enjoying sexual contact with any of them. For a long time I was waiting for some mysterious feeling to chime in and point me in the right direction. When that didn’t happen, I dated a string of straight men, then a few women and non binary folk, then some men again, all the while feeling more and more like something was *wrong* with me for not enjoying sexual intimacy with them. I felt like an alien who had mistakenly taken the shape of a human female- bombarded by aggressive sexual actions I had no way of comprehending or returning. I’d heard the term Asexual a few times but didn’t fully understand it until I moved to Portland and spoke to a friend with similar experiences. After some research, all the awkward unsexy moment in my life made sense. I simply hadn’t been considering it a possibility, that one could exist in this world without that key, seemingly necessary component. - “Do asexuals date?”
Yes! I still crave intimacy, I’m a cynical panromantic and would die without enough cuddles. But, since running into an asexual I vibe with at the coffee shop is about as likely as meeting a cute murderer looking at leather working tools at the craft store, many of us, myself included, date sexual people. But, this can get awkward pretty fast, as I’m still not sure when the appropriate time is to tell someone who is interested in me that I’m asexual. It’s not as easy to slip into conversation or blurt out on a podcast as you might think. Do I bring it up on the first date at the expensive restaurant they took me to, thereby assuming sexual intent? Or a month in when I want to cuddle naked but they’re interpreting nudity as a ‘Come on in’ sign? I began to feel like an angler fish, luring partners in with misinterpreted friendliness, only to spring upon them the fact that I’d rather devour every detail of their life story than sleep with them. At the same time, I was falling into traps because of my own assumptions. I’ve always been terrible at picking up on sexual intent, flirting, and innuendo, but apparently when someone asks you to “Hang out” they actually mean, “Date”. Did you all know this? No one told me! It can be getting lunch at Whole Foods, or walking around a park, or sitting silently at a movie, but as unromantic as it is, it’s still a date. I’ve been on WAY too many dates that I had no idea were dates. This makes it doubly hard to make friends, as I have to make it absolutely clear that I am NOT asking for a date when I want to hang out with them. “Wanna get platonic tacos?” is the best non sexual pick up line I’ve come up with so far.. - “So… do you have sex?”
Sometimes! I’d been told most of my life that sex was the BEST. That someday I’d grow up and have a bunch of it, and it’d be fun and pleasurable and fulfilling. But I was always… a bit grossed out by the whole thing. Unwashed phalluses and sweaty testicles, the smell of vaginal mucus… not to mention all the other various fluids and stenches involved… was never appealing, even as my friends were rapidly becoming more and more obsessed with the idea. Still, I tried my best to find a way to ‘do it’ that didn’t lead to me bursting into tears halfway through because I feel as valued as a crusty sock. Sex is WAY better when you’re turned on, I’m told. When you’re not, and there’s an erection coming at you, things go from “mostly enjoyable” to “difficult” real quick. I always try to be honest with my partners, so I don’t fake orgasms, and would let them know that despite their best efforts they would not be able to make me climax. Usually though, this statement is taken as a challenge, and I’m forced to politely lie there and be licked numb or endure an added three minutes of log jamming. Because clearly, Their genitals are the ones that will magically unlock the floodgates of pent up orgasms. Since I’d been told sex would hurt sometimes, that women usually didn’t orgasm during sex, and that ‘practice makes perfect’ I subjected myself to one uncomfortable experience after another. Sometimes I’d feel a sickly, almost pleasurable sensation, like pressure on a bruise, and for a long time I believed that this was what I’d been searching for, that that pain was the most enjoyment I’d ever be able to get. Realizing that I could exist as someone who didn’t want sex, that it was okay to do so, ended my search for sexual gratification, much to my relief. Sex is fine, but intimate connection and play is way more appealing to me than getting jabbed by a meat stick for eight to twelve minutes. - “What’s the worst thing about being asexual?”
The worst thing is all the misconceptions attached to a sexual orientation that is not widely talked about or positively portrayed by the media. Unfortunately there’s a lot of stigma in our society towards people who aren’t into sex. If someone is wound up and cranky, they just need to “get laid”. If someone isn’t having sex, it’s because they’re undesirable. And nothing, if decades of rom com tropes are to be believed, is worse than being stuck in a sexless relationship. I was so sure that something was wrong with me that I put myself in painful situations to “fix” it. I was told by peers and loved ones that “I just needed to find the right man” or that “I hadn’t been f*cked correctly”. I was told it was a phase, that I needed therapy because my sexuality stemmed from trauma, that I could be fixed with some damiana tea or “lady Viagra”. The second worst thing is not feeling like I’m good enough. That no matter how much I love someone, I will never be as good of a partner as one they could have sex with. The fear of being a disappointment, of inevitably being replaced once someone with a sex drive comes into the picture, still makes me feel like I’m wrong for being who I am, even now that I realize my sexuality is entirely valid. The third worst thing is being sexualized all the time. Being a woman is like playing an video game where every wise old man offering a quest just wants to grope your chest, every person calling for help on the street wants you to do them in an alley, and your reward for kind deeds is yup, you guessed it, more offers for bad sex. I just want to be friendly without that inevitable recontextualization. I want to compliment people, hug them, dance with them, look at them and smile, without it being a signal that I want a wiener in my mouth or a make-out session with a muff. I want it to be known that my actions are sincere, and never sexually motivated. But, unfortunately, the best I can do for now is wear my ring when I remember to and shout “I’m ASEXUAL” at anyone who tries to ask me out. Sometimes, I almost wish I was sexual, or back in the confused stage of my life where I thought I was straight… But I’ve never felt more at home in my body, more accepting and loving of myself, than I have since realizing I was ace. - Last question, I bet it’s an important one- “Do you masturbate, and if so what to?”
Ah, I maybe should have put this one sooner… But yes, I occasionally masturbate, about once or twice a month. I started when I was nineteen, because my friend called me a prude for never having masturbated in the shower. This was before I realized I was asexual, so I tried watching various porn and looking at sexy pictures like I was some sheltered thirteen year old who had just discovered hormones. It didn’t work. It was music, actually, that brought me to orgasm the first time. When I separated my mind from the anxiety surrounding sex, I could follow the crescendo to climax. After that, I experimented with imagining different experiences. One of my favorites is a vivid transformation into a bird. My arms become wings, feathers sprout from my skin, and my lips pucker into a beak. As my mind shrinks with my body I feel myself shedding concerns about the messed up world, losing my fear of the future, and finally being free from all the frustrations of human sexuality. But… the sad reality of this scenario is that even birds mostly sit around yelling “Let’s Mate, Let’s Mate!” And I’d still be the weirdo chirping, “Wanna get platonic worms?”
Thank you
SRP: Thank you so much for sharing that essay. I’ve heard it before, but it’s always wonderful to get to hear and I think a lot of our listeners will have learned a lot from that, and I’m so excited to discuss it more with you. So to start things off, I wonder if we could get into some of the history of asexuality because I know for a lot of folks it probably is a pretty new term to them. They might have only heard it recently or maybe even just now. So is this a new phenomenon? And if not, where does it come from?
JA: This was super interesting for me to research for myself too. I’d looked into it a couple of times, but just refreshed myself for the sake of this podcast. And a lot of people are under the assumption asexuality is something fairly new or that it came out of the early 2000’s, internet era, Tumblr, that sort of thing. But the first scientific mention of the term asexuality is actually from 1869 in the same pamphlet by Karl-Maria Kertbeny that coined the terms homosexual and heterosexual. He used the term ‘monosexual’, which was just a third category of people who didn’t experience any sexual attraction. That was classically how asexuality was referred to throughout much of history, is just a third category besides heterosexual and homosexual. People just knew about it. It had been around forever. It wasn’t a question of if it existed or not, it simply did.
SRP: That’s really kind of mind blowing for me, just hearing that now. I mean, I knew it was older, but not that’s been around as long as homosexuality, which we know has been along around as long as heterosexuality.
JA: Yeah, it’s even included on the Kinsey Scale, which is the first general metric for the spectrum between hetero- and homosexuality. Kinsey discovered that there were about 1% of men and women who he defined as an X on the scale, meaning they didn’t experience any attraction. So people have been researching this for a long time and talking about it for a long time. The term asexual appears in many essays and studies about queer identity, and even David Bowie mentioned in an interview that sometimes he felt asexual, but he was still going on his personal journey of sexuality.
a third category besides heterosexual and homosexual. People just knew about it. It had been around forever.
SRP: So if asexuality has been around for so long, why haven’t we heard of it before?
JA: Well, unfortunately, in the 1980s, asexuality was classified as a mental disorder in the DSM, which is the Diagnostic & Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. This created a stigma that asexuals been fighting ever since. It created this general idea that the orientation is something that’s wrong or curable. And that idea still persists today, even though there’s been an update to the DSM in 2013 stating that ‘hypoactive sexual desire disorder’ does not apply to people who self-identify as asexual. So we kind of got set back by science and society from being included in the discussion to being shunted off to the side as some sort of disorder.
SRP: Okay, so asexuals have been around forever, and I know you shared some of your experiences of being told it was something that should be treated or cured, that there was something wrong with you, which seemed really terrible, but where is asexuality at today then by contrast?
JA: Well, in 2009, asexuals marched in the Pride Parade for the first time and the flag—purple, black, gray, and white—was created in 2010. Today, asexuals are far more visible and accepted than we’ve ever been, but in that visibility comes pushback from those who choose to hate things that they don’t understand.

SRP: Okay, so you mentioned that asexuals have been participating in Pride Parades now. And in my introduction I shared that of course you are part of the LGBTQIA alphabet; you are the A there. Why are asexuals a part of that rainbow alphabet, especially since so much of it is defined by sex and you’re defined by an absence of it?
JA: It’s true. Generally, it is harder to explain an identity that’s an absence of something rather than an aspect of your life. But being a part of the LGBTQIA Two-Spirit+ community means, essentially, that you’re not straight or you’re not cisgender—you deviate from the overwhelming cultural norm that has been pushed by the patriarchy as the correct way to live. Asexuals have faced a lot of the same criticisms that many queer identities have encountered. We are told that our identity is a phase, or is from trauma or is going against god’s will. We’re told that we’ll change our mind when we meet the right partner or once we’ve had sex with the right person.
Asexuals and bisexuals also face the same discrimination within the queer community for not being ‘gay enough;. Both Aces and bi folks can be in heteronormative seeming relationships, but still be ace and bi. By gate keeping being queer to mean who you’re having sex with, we exclude the entire back half of the alphabet, including trans, intersex, two-spirit, and asexual folks.
Simply put: straight people feel sexual attraction only for people of the opposite gender. Asexuals do not feel sexual attraction for any gender. Aces are not straight, therefore they’re queer.
SRP: Okay, so why is it so important that asexuals be vocal about themselves? It seems like it’s kind of a quiet, personal thing. Why can’t this just stay in—or in your case, out—of the bedroom?
JA: Well, there’s been a lot of activists speaking up about asexuality recently, and asexuality is very misunderstood chunk of the queer spectrum. Many people have never heard of it, and many people who have heard of it assume it’s just a lack of desire for sex or some form of celibacy, or that it comes from trauma and it’s not valid identity. I hadn’t heard of asexuality until I had graduated college. By speaking about our experiences, aces are helping other people learn about another way to be so that more people can understand themselves if they fall on the ace spectrum or understand their friends and community members who are ace. We’re basically just saying, “Hey, you don’t have to be straight, you don’t have to be gay. That third category that’s always been around is still here. Even if you haven’t heard about it.”
SRP: So you shared that you hadn’t heard about this until after college. Are you willing to share how you first heard about asexuality and what that was like?
JA: I heard about asexuality from a friend of mine who happened to be a little more connected to queer community than myself. I had been in a large friend group in college of all sorts of queer people, but none of them fell on the asexual spectrum. I was having my own struggles with identity and trying to figure out who I was, and I thought maybe I was bisexual because I felt the same thing for everybody. But it turns out that same thing was nothing! And I thought I was a lesbian until I dated women…And I eventually heard the term ‘asexual’ introduced to me by a friend of mine who also identifies as asexual and I began reading about the asexual experience and watching videos by other people who were asexual and found that I resonated a lot with what they were experiencing and had felt that and experienced that many times in my life.

SRP: What are some of the key differences then between someone who’s asexual and someone who just doesn’t like sex? Is there any difference?
JA: Well, it’s a pretty big difference, but it breaks down essentially to attraction versus action. An asexual may still enjoy sex or do it for their partner or engage in kink-related activities, but they do not experience sexual attraction.
Some people who do experience sexual attraction might not enjoy sex either due to trauma or their partner, who they’re with, or the situations that they’re going through at that time. They still feel attraction but don’t want to do the action. There is a spectrum of terms related just to how people feel about sex, different from orientation labels. Some of those are: sex favorable, sex neutral, and sexual repulsed. People across all types of attraction—gay, straight, bisexual, asexual—can experience this spectrum of sexual desire. So even if you’re not enjoying sex with who you’re with or you haven’t felt a craving for it in a while, you might still look at someone and feel sexual attraction. That’s different than asexuals who have that absence.
SRP: Thank you for clarifying that. Okay, so further on some of these details you mentioned in the essay, a few other subcategories of asexuality, like demisexuality was one of them, and you mentioned one other…
JA: Aromanticism.
SRP: Aromanticism, thank you. We have all of these smaller labels, these microlabels that you’re sharing, which is all very interesting, but what’s the value of these? Especially for folks who might say, “This all sounds really niche,” or “You’re just trying to make yourself special,” or something like that. Why are they important?
JA: So those are called microlabels, and they’re descriptors for all the different identities that fall under the larger category of asexual, the ace umbrella. And they’re useful tools for understanding the subtleties of the asexual experience, which is not one universal experience. For example, demisexual, which means little bit sexual—demi—do not feel sexual attraction towards people unless they formed a deeper emotional or romantic connection with them. They’re asexual towards everybody else. There’s also aromantics, which are people who don’t feel romantic attraction at all, and like asexuals, their identity is informed by a lack of feeling rather than an active feeling. There’s also gray-asexuals who very rarely experience sexual attraction, but only feel it sometimes.
And why should we use these labels rather than just say we’re not into sex? Well, some asexuals are into sex. There’s no universal way to be ace. And having language for discussing our experience and helping us understand one another and be understood is very useful in the long run for explaining asexuality and figuring out where we are in our own journeys.
SRP: That makes a lot of sense. Thank you for that. Okay, let’s get really into the meat of it. How does patriarchy affect asexuals and the asexual community?
JA: Well, unfortunately, our patriarchal American society puts a heavy, heavy emphasis on people’s wellbeing and worth being directly tied to sex. This message being pushed—that sex is essential and a peak part of the human experience, it’s what makes us human—it’s in our media, it’s in our gender roles, and it’s incredibly hard to escape that understanding of the world once you’ve been raised with it. Men who don’t have sex are not ‘real men’ and women who don’t have sex are ‘sad cat ladies’.
Asexual youth are more likely than any other orientation to experience anxiety and depression related to their identity according to surveys by the Trevor Project. And asexuals are more likely than any other group to be offered or subjected to conversion therapy; around 35% of aces have reported experiencing this. Unfortunately, they’re also more likely to be victims of corrective rape and of having their identities written off as a disease.
This message being pushed—that sex is essential and a peak part of the human experience, it’s what makes us human—it’s in our media, it’s in our gender roles, and it’s incredibly hard to escape…
SRP: Wow, I did not realize those statistics. That’s…wow. Sorry, you used the term there ‘corrective rape’. Can you define that for us?
JA: It is people who have had sexual assault because someone got it into their head that they could fix the asexual person by forcing them to have sex. And it’s an unfortunate reality that a lot of queer people all across the identity spectrum have experienced.
SRP: So you’re saying that asexual youth especially are struggling with anxiety and a slew of other hardships, it sounds like. Where is this messaging coming from that asexuality is wrong or that sex is paramount in everything? Where did you experience it?
JA: I experienced it a lot growing up, despite growing up in a religious Catholic household where I initially had been told abstinence was the way to go, and I was like, “Heck yeah, I can be abstinent.” I was watching all of my peers get really into sex and talking about it a lot and becoming obsessed with it. And a lot of the media that I started taking in as a teenager was telling me that, “oh, it was actually really, really special. And the best way to connect with your partner,” and I—as someone who didn’t even have the chance to know about asexuality until after college—I got to explore a lot. But for youths who are asexual, they’re coming up against a lot of pushback in their identity very young when they’re still in an exploratory stage. And I can’t imagine the kind of pressure that would be put on a teenager who’s still going through all those hormonal changes to reconsider their identity if it goes against the norm.

SRP: So what does our culture, what does our patriarchal culture, stand to gain from this messaging and from convincing people that they shouldn’t be asexual and there’s something wrong with that?
JA: Honestly, I think like I think with a lot of queer identities, deviating from the norm in general is viewed as negative or dangerous to society. Patriarchy relies heavily on women being subservient to men and men accepting a lot of the messaging that’s being put into them; that they have to be sexually dominant, that they have to be masculine, that they have to be the top of the household. So an identity that goes directly against that by saying, “Hey, we don’t want this. We can live without this.” An identity that goes against the capitalist idea that sex sells is so different from what everyone has been told that I think it can come across as disruptive to the patriarchal norm.
SRP: Thank you. That’s super interesting. Okay, we have another question here that was actually sent in by someone who we all know, this is from Amy Allebest who asked. “I’ve known several people whose sexual interest or attraction ‘kicked in’ much later than typical. How can a parent be most supportive of a teen coming out as asexual if it’s not clear yet whether this is a permanent identity?”
JA: Well, one of the best ways that you can offer your child support while they’re exploring their identity in any regards to their identity is to simply accept them. Do your best to affirm their identity and avoid pressuring them into being sure if it’s a phase or not. There’s nothing wrong with phases; we all go through them. Our lives are an exploration and a journey to understand ourselves, and that understanding changes with time. But telling your child that their identity is just a phase, something they will grow out of, makes them feel like you want them to grow out of it and would never accept them if they didn’t.
SRP: Would you have any guidance for asexual youth or people who are questioning if they might be asexual?

JA: I suppose I would say you know yourself better than anyone else. It’s very fair to explore, but don’t feel pressured to do it. There is always time to learn and labels are not permanent. Labels are tools to help us understand ourselves and express ourselves. And if you try on a label for a little bit and it feels right, that’s great. If you try on a label for a little bit and you realize, oh, it’s not for me, you can totally change it. As I said, I thought I was bisexual. I thought I was a lesbian. It took me a while to get around to being asexual. But don’t let anyone pressure you into doing things that you don’t want do. Even in terms of exploration, you have to feel safe and comfortable in your exploration of yourself for yourself.
SRP: Yeah, that’s really wonderful and it occurs to me that that is probably relevant to older people in any stage of life who are starting to question whether they might be ace.
JA: Absolutely.
SRP: Okay, so in the essay you shared the worst things about being asexual. What are some of your favorite things about being asexual?
JA: The color purple! I mean, honestly, the best thing was when I realized that I was asexual, I was able to drop the act, the mask that had been forced on me since puberty. Basically, this idea that I was supposed to be sexually appealing, that I was supposed to be a sexual being, and that the search for partners—sexual partners—was necessary. And it was always really difficult for me to feel comfortable doing that. It always felt like I was performing, it always felt like I was lying in some way trying to achieve something that never felt good to me just because everybody else was telling me that I should be doing it.

I mean, it got so bad that I felt really broken because I wasn’t able to keep up this performance, because I wasn’t able to exist in the world I had been taught existed. I learned about asexuality. I started to feel comfortable in my skin. I began to dress, act, and live for myself and not for the gaze of anyone else. And my understanding of my self-worth shifted entirely. I found myself better able to enjoy life and engage for the sheer joy of it—dance ugly, sing badly, dress wild, do it for you regardless of your sexual orientation.
SRP: Okay, so I’m imagining some listeners might have questions…As I mentioned, you and I are a couple. How does that work? How does this asexual—and you said ‘allosexual’ is the opposite, someone who does experience sexual attraction—how does that mixed orientation relationship work?
JA: Oh, a lot of communication. We’ve been partners for about four years and our relationship is technically a mixed orientation relationship. I’m asexual, Sam is pansexual. And we put in a lot of time and communication to make things work between us in understanding personal boundaries and personal needs. While I don’t feel sexual attraction towards anyone, I feel romantic attraction, sensual attraction, aesthetic attraction, and platonic attraction towards Sam. They’re my best friend. I love them a lot. And that love and willingness to understand one another in all of the forms of our life has helped our relationship grow stronger all the time. We’ve put in a lot of work, but it’s been worth it.
SRP: Yeah, I would second that as well. I think that not only has it been amazing for how we communicate and are actually able to show up for each other as partners, it’s also kind of—for me at least—unlocked all these different layers of intimacy that I never took the time to explore when I was in sexual relationships. That was always the be-all-end-all-stopping-point and now there are all these different expressions of intimacy that we’ve gotten to explore together, which I’m so grateful for. And I imagine listeners might be interested to know we’re a lot like you. We ask each other about our day, we cook meals and share them together, we cuddle and watch movies. It’s just that the intimacy that we find with each other comes from that communication and from these different activities that we share together and from the trust and love that we have…and also we still have lots of kissing.
dance ugly, sing badly, dress wild, do it for you regardless of your sexual orientation
Okay, another question for you though. As we mentioned earlier, you are also an artist, a sculptress. Does your asexuality inform your art?
JA: Yes and no. As an artist, my life experience informs a lot of my work, but asexuality isn’t inherently present. I have a couple pieces that deal in that theme and the general theme of existing as a woman in general. One of those is titled Naturally Defensive, and it’s a seven-foot-tall woman made from scrap metal and bone. She has spikes, claws, and thorns, with blackberry vines for her hair and a vulvic chest cavity surrounded by teeth protecting her heart. She’s a representation of all the protective forces in nature that would be useful for a woman to have in a patriarchal world. Ironically, she’s been run over twice by men and even had the hands protecting her heart cut off.

The second piece is titled Self-Loving, Self-Loathing, and it depicts a large praying mantis, one claw pleasuring herself and the other cutting off her own head, referencing the fact that female mantids eat their mate. This represents the struggle between loving oneself and feeling like something is wrong with you because of that, and I mean, there’s a lot of like Catholic guilt in that one, but that one is the closest piece I’ve done to expressing asexuality. It was actually done before I really understood that side of myself and feeling a lot of guilt over just loving and prioritizing myself, over giving all of that to somebody else as I have been told to do as my place as a woman in a patriarchal society.
SRP: That’s amazing. And for people who are interested, there’ll be pictures of all these on our website—you should totally go check them out.
So before we wrap up, I’d like to discuss some action items. We’ve been centering action this season and maybe first if you could tell us what recommendations you would do for people who think they might be asexual?
JA: Well, if parts of my essay in this interview resonated with you and you’re wondering about it, I’d recommend reading about experiences of other people on the asexual spectrum, or watching videos and content made by aces. Once I began to look into what asexuality was like and what living it was like, I found it gave a lot of context to my own experiences. I finally felt like I understood myself because I’d taken the time to understand others. But remember, it’s the journey, not the destination. And just because one part of the asexual experience resonates with you, it doesn’t mean that all of it will. So take some time, explore and use the tools as you see fit.

SRP: And then what can people do if they have asexual people in their life they want to support or maybe just want to support asexual community more generally?
JA: The best way to be an ally to the asexual community is to affirm asexual identities and acknowledge that sex is not necessary for everyone to find personal fulfillment. Speak up online if you see people putting aces down or spreading misinformation, and help dismantle negative assumptions about asexual people in society and in the media. There’s a lot of negative sh*t going around always, but it does help to have a couple friendly allies on our side.
SRP: Well, this has been amazing. Thank you so much for joining us. Before we go, our most important question is, of course, where can people follow you to find more of your work and learn more about your awesome asexual advocacy?
JA: You can find me on Instagram @juliaalora and you can find me online at the great website that Sam made for me, that is juliaalora.com.
SRP: Incredible. Well, thank you so much for joining us today.
JA: Thanks for having me. This was really fun.
There’s nothing wrong with phases;

we all go through them.
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