Double-A Aros: Andrea's Experience

Andrea Bustillo (she/he/they)

So what is aromanticism? Does it have anything to do with asexuality? Are aromantics really heartless monsters? So many questions, but I have answers! 

    Aromanticism, in its simplest form, is the lack of romantic attraction toward others. Like many queer labels, it is the umbrella term for a vast spectrum, as well as being its own concrete label. The opposite of aromantic would be alloromantic. These are forms of attractionality, vocabulary which both Abbie and I stress since we are so often asked about our sexualities.  Simply focusing on sexual attraction, or conflating sexual attraction with other types, not only leaves out a big chunk of our identities but also continues the over-sexualization of queer people. I heard the term “attractionality” for the first time in early October this year, and I truly felt seen. People had actually considered aromanticism or, at least, they had decided to depart from the inherently sexual lens that society tends to view the LGBTQIA+ community with. 
    Aromanticism, as a fellow “a-spectrum” identity, has a lot in common with asexuality; however, they are completely separate from each other. While some people identify as aromantic and asexual (aroace), romantic and sexual orientation are not necessarily connected! Many identify as aromantic and something else or asexual and something else. These labels use the Split Attraction Model (SAM), which differentiates attraction into separate forms. The commonalities between the two identities lie primarily in their definitions as a “lack of [romantic or sexual] attraction” and in the labels that fall under each’s umbrella. For example, there are demiromanticism and demisexuality, which refer to an attraction to others that only arises after a deep connection has already been established. The similarities and shared experiences between aromantics and asexuals foster a wonderful community of a-spec individuals that, for me, is a space to yap to the moon about how romantic and sexual relationships are not my priorities and shouldn’t be for most people, but that’s a conversation for another day! No shade to allos, I promise… 
    Now, how did I get here? How did I reach the conclusion that I was aromantic? I first learned that aromanticism was a thing between my freshman and sophomore years of high school. I had been identifying as bisexual since eighth grade (and was in the closet for years before that), but I was starting to notice how all I wanted from romantic relationships was a tight-knit friendship. And while friendship is an important part of romantic relationships, that was quite literally all I wanted. I had never dated anyone, and every time I had feelings for someone, I would confess and immediately let it go, not even giving the other person a chance to respond. It took me a long time to realize that I never wanted them to respond. I never wanted to deal with what could potentially come next. I never even thought about it! All I could picture was me and that boy from fifth grade playing endless tag on the playground, me and that girl from freshman year eating cake and frolicking in an imaginary field, hearing the wonderful laughter of those interactions ringing in my ears. But it was never more than that. And that became increasingly apparent as I got older. 
    ​To be honest, I have no recollection of how I came across the term “aromantic,” but I remember also struggling with my gender identity at the time (jeez, could I ever catch a break?). There was an ever-present question: Do I want to be with them, or do I want to be them? There were so many pretty people around me, and I just could not gauge how I was feeling at all. But now, I know that it is most often the latter. However, knowing that does not make it easier. In a world where people are always asking if you have a crush – like, seriously, always asking, as if it were small talk – I wonder: well, do I have a crush? And sure, I might find someone exceptionally beautiful and want to hang around them all the time- but that’s where I draw the line. The thought of being in a romantic relationship has almost zero appeal to me, and I am not gonna lie: sometimes, it even makes me cry out in disgust. But that doesn’t make me a heartless monster. I want to love and be loved, and I find that in my friendships, in my family, and in my incredibly cute dogs. There is no need for romance in my life, and sometimes I think there is no room for it. I’m perfectly content the way I am, even if I go into an attractionality crisis every other month. Being aromantic is quite awesome. And who knows, maybe you are aromantic! Or not, and that’s obviously okay, too (but not quite as awesome).

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