What’s it like to come out as aromantic?
Written by Akweley Mazarae Word count: 1500 @akidcalledmaz Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
No one asks us this question, or asks us any questions really. Not the kinds of questions we would like to be asked. Very few people are aware of, let alone understand, the aromantic community, and so a lot of Baby Aros can feel alone and underrepresented. Lack of visibility may factor into why it takes a while for some of us to come into ourselves. This National Coming Out Day I wanted to highlight the experience of four aromantic-spectrum individuals who are out here living their full and vivid lives, to counteract the narrative of the cold, frigid, unfeeling aro that society incorrectly came up with. These four individuals are in different places in their relationship to their aro-spec identity, and I really hope you can appreciate the different perspectives they bring to the table.
The first person I interviewed was a 27-year-old Black biracial woman from New York City named Chey. Chey (she/her), who is also disabled and a parent, came into her aro-spec identity these past couple of years. She says her “epiphany was a long time in the making.” Chey identifies as aromantic and bisexual, though cupioromantic is an approximately appropriate label, as she does seek out relationships. A standard definition of cupioromantic is someone who does not experience romantic attraction but still desires a romantic relationship. So Chey in a nutshell. Coming out for Chey has been emotionally charged, like when she came out to her ex-husband, but also at times engaging with this identity is neutral or more positive, like when she shares aro memes with family and friends or got all decked out in Aro Swag for Pride this year.
S (xe/xem), a 27-year-old North Indian based in the Northeastern United States, identifies as a demipanromantic asexual. For xem, romantic attraction is not clearly defined—xe feels very strong emotions that xe categorizes as “friendship” and a very strong “something else” that xe categorizes as “romantic,” and for xem, this does not change xyr behavior towards the subject of xyr affection, just xyr internal feelings. What xe labels as “romantic” attraction only develops after knowing someone for two to three years, which is why xe identifies as demiromantic. While xe does have the capacity for romantic attraction, it often freaks xem out, as xe doesn’t like these feelings and it seems like a betrayal of the relationship. Xe asks to be rejected as soon as possible so that xe can apologize and the relationship can continue on.
Image Description: A picture of Chey, a Black woman, in a Pride outfit. She is wearing a white top, silver shorts, white fishnet tights, white sneakers, and a silver face mask. She has the aromantic Pride flag draped over her shoulders like a cape and is holding the front ends together. She is wearing a self-made headpiece consisting of five flowers in the aromantic flag colors and two horns also in the flag colors. Her face and the headpiece are adorned with small jewels. She is also wearing a pin that says “still bi AF.” It’s circular with the colors of the bisexual pride flag.
Zi Kei (they/them), currently residing on The Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh), and Stó:lō first nations, also known as Vancouver, British Columbia, is a 23-year-old ethnically Chinese activist from Hong Kong. They are disabled, neurodivergent, a caregiver, and an artist. You could call them a “social justice warrior” or a “snowflake”—they’d bust out laughing and claim the title with pride. Zi Kei identifies as grey-aro. Demi-aro might also fit them as a label but they prefer grey-aro because at this stage of their life they are kinda over figuring out labels, and prefer fluid or expansive labels. For them, they don’t really experience romantic attraction towards people, and the few times that they have (which they can count on one hand), they had already liked the person in some kind of way.
Theo (they/them) is a 27-year-old white graduate student in Oklahoma. Theo, who is neurodivergent, identifies as a romance favorable aromantic. They personally do not differentiate romantic affection from familial and platonic affection. If there is romance in a relationship they are cool with it as long as the other person understands that how they process emotions is different.
Since no one else would dream of asking, I asked my interviewees what it is like to come out as aromantic spectrum individuals. For Chey, being aro is empowering—she told me:“I no longer try to force myself into the amatonormative box that I was expected to be in. [Coming out as aro has] given me the opportunity to step back and realize how some behaviors rooted in “love” are not the healthiest and I’ve been able to reassess all my relationships, not just romantic.” She recognizes that the “limitations” come from outside of her circle, from those who equivocate lack of romantic feelings with greediness, sluttiness, brokenness, and other negative attributes. But those false perceptions of her do not erase the fact she, just like all other aro-spec individuals, are capable of meaningful relationships. One of these meaningful relationships for Chey is with her nine-year-old daughter who “is more understanding and tolerant of more queer identities at 9 than I was in high school.”
S came into xyr demiromantic identity through an asexual and aromantic community group at the institution where xe is a graduate student. Coming out as aro spectrum has been a mildly negative experience for xem—xyr partner did not initially see xyr demiromantic identity as an exciting affirmation of xyr lived experience, but felt as though something was “wrong” with him. After talking with a social worker at the LGBTQ Office, xyr partner was able to understand that S really loved and cared about him—it’s just that the way xe experiences attraction is different from the way the world socialized S to experience attraction. Compared to coming out as asexual, coming out as aro-spec has been a much more positive experience for xem because xe mostly comes out about this identity to other queers, though xe does acknowledge that allos can be challenging to explain aromantic spectrum identities to, queer or not.
Zi Kei discovered they were arospec later than the other identities they hold—one day, something “clicked” and they were like “Oh I see, this makes sense about me.” They typically don’t come out as grey-aro except in the occasional dating situation. They don’t really have any strong feelings towards this identity, and are more so annoyed with society’s hyperfixation on romantic and sexual attraction.
Similarly to Zi Kei, for Theo, coming out to themselves was a “oh! that makes a lot more sense!” moment. For years, they had wondered if they were polyamorous, but something wasn’t quite right. They have a lot of love to give to so many people, but none of that love or attraction is romantic for them. The aromantic label makes more sense about how they relate to people. Since they are “fairly new” to the community, they are not out to many as aro. For Theo, being aromantic, just like being bisexual or genderqueer, are less like identities and more like descriptors of their lived experience.
While all of my interviewees placed varying amounts of importance on coming out as aro spectrum, they did all make it clear that positive representation of aromantic identities is sorely lacking and desperately needed. Chey shared this sentiment with me: “Let people see the true, authentic us, the full spectrum of aro identity and the full spectrum of people that identify as aro. Have characters say “I’m aromantic and happy!” instead of it being implied or their life being seen as lonely or unfulfilled without a romantic partner. Representation in media is so important because you feel seen, and you feel heard. Let some queer child look at a character and say “that’s me” so they know that they are just fine the way they are. Let newly burgeoning queer folx discover themselves at their own pace. Let us grow and evolve and discover ourselves at our own pace. Let our labels change, or be discarded all together. Just allow us to be our authentic selves, we’re so much more than just aro. “
S is interested in more diverse conversations about aromantic spectrum identities. Why do aros enter “romantic passing” relationships? How is your understanding of your gender influenced by romantic attraction? Where can we find aromantic people historically—in arranged marriages? In religious positions where you're expected to remain unmarried, such as nuns?
Zi Kei would love for the community to talk about the intersection of aro spectrum identities and neurodivergence and mental health, as they feel like there is a connection for them as an autistic person. They would also like for aro allos to be more visible—as an aro allo, they feel like this particular lived experience allows them to value different ways of relating to others than alloromantic allosexuals don’t perceive.
Theo wishes that the idea that being aro means that you don’t feel love, the “awful lie” inspiring this piece, is put to rest. They described themselves as “a lil pocket of queerness that wants to spread love to everyone,” and I think that is true for a lot of us in the community. We have a lot of love to give, it simply looks different for some of us. That’s beautiful! and absolutely okay.
Happy National Coming Out Day! Hoping for safe and supportive coming out experiences for all the Baby Aros out there <3 Know that you never need to come out to anyone, ever. Protect your peace and stay safe bbs.