For this International Asexuality Day (6 April), Just Like Us ambassador Teddy Ramplin calls for greater awareness of every identity within the asexual community.

WORDS BY TEDDY RAMPLIN

I’ve always been told I was picky. About food, about clothes, even about my car. I don’t mind, because people often don’t understand why I’m so selective. However, there’s one thing I wish people would stop calling me picky for, and that’s my sexuality.

I identify as gay, but also as aceflux; sometimes I feel myself to be fully asexual – or ‘ace’ for short – and sometimes fully allosexual (not asexual), and sometimes somewhere in between. I’m always attracted to men, but the way in which I’m attracted to them changes. With a fluid attraction, I often get told I’m just being ‘difficult’, or that I’m making up words for attention, but there are plenty of others who feel the same way I do.

According to the ONS 2021 census, 0.06% of respondents identified as asexual, though research suggests that the actual number may be higher, around 1-2% of the population of England and Wales.

Asexuality is defined as experiencing little to no sexual attraction to other people. However, it’s also an umbrella term encompassing other ace identities, such as demisexual, whereby sexual attraction can only develop once the person has formed a strong emotional connection with their partner, and grey ace, which involves a limited amount or low intensity of sexual attraction.

Attraction can be defined by the Split Attraction Model (SAM), whereby romantic and sexual attraction are distinct and separate from one another, even if they don’t necessarily align. For instance, a person can be asexual and biromantic, meaning they’re romantically attracted to two or more genders and sexually attracted to none. The SAM is often used by asexual people, but is not limited to the ace community, and can be used by anyone.

Asexuality isn’t a new term. It’s commonly thought that Florence Nightingale may have been asexual, as are a number of current celebrities of varying ages. For instance, Alice Oseman, creator of the successful graphic novel and now hit TV show Heartstopper, identifies as asexual, and streamer Sweet Anita identifies as demisexual, as does singer Chappell Roan. English singer-songwriter Cavetown has also confirmed that he is on the asexual spectrum.

So, in a world where anyone can be anything, why is it such an issue when someone says they’re asexual?

There are a lot of misconceptions about asexuality. One is that they “just haven’t met the right person”. Well, just like allosexual people, not everyone wants to settle down. Those that do, absolutely can, even without experiencing sexual attraction. And some asexual people do have sex, for a variety of reasons.

That being said, people who identify as asexual often have a sex drive of their own, and they might even act on that, without wanting to be intimate with a partner.

International Asexuality Day is celebrated yearly on 6 April and aims to raise awareness of the often-misunderstood term, as well as encouraging advocacy and support of the ace community and celebrating those often left out of wider LGBT+ celebrations. This year, I hope we can have more awareness that International Asexuality Day is inclusive of every identity under the umbrella of asexuality.

A common trope in the asexual community is the idea of preferring cake over sex. So, as an aceflux person, people might tell me that I can’t have my cake and eat it too, and to that I say – yes, I absolutely can.

Teddy is an ambassador for Just Like Us, the LGBT+ young people’s charity. Just Like Us needs LGBT+ ambassadors aged 18-25 to speak in schools – sign up now.

The post “You can’t have your cake and eat it too”: my life as an aceflux person appeared first on GAY TIMES.

This Mother’s Day, Just Like Us ambassador Teddy Ramplin reflects on the impact of coming out as trans on his relationship with his mum, and why “a leopard really can change its spots”.

WORDS BY TEDDY RAMPLIN

Coming out is a rite of passage for many LGBTQIA+ people. Some don’t feel the need to make a big song and dance of it – it can be as simple as saying two words in passing – or even come out at all, but most of us will do it at least once.

When I came out as queer, it was very nonchalant, and completely unplanned. It was the 24th of January 2022 – the day I started dating my then-partner. I simply got into the car after school and, when my mum asked about my day, I told her: “I’m gay.” She smiled, looking back at me in the mirror, and replied: “I don’t care what you are, as long as you’re happy”.

That moment had me feeling like I could do anything. Like I could be anything. Because with her by my side, I was unstoppable.

Fast-forward to the 28th of April, 2023. The day I got my deed poll signed. As I emerged that day with a new name, I felt like a new me. At 17, I was legally allowed to do it on my own, but my mum wasn’t happy. She knew I was trans – it’s not like I had tried to hide it – but apparently changing my name was the last straw.

As far as I knew, she didn’t have a deep connection to my deadname, but still I was faced with cold glances, short, flat conversations, awkward silences. After about a week, I brought it up again, and received only a pursed lip, and a bemused “mm-hm”, before she went about getting ready for work. Suddenly, I felt small again. Like without my mum, I was nothing. It seemed like I had to make a choice: be myself, or have my mum’s approval.

I’m not alone. In fact, research from Just Like Us found that only 57% of transgender and non-binary young adults thought that their parents or carers would accept their identities, and that they were the least confident of all LGBTQIA+ identities that they would be accepted.

My situation was not ideal, but I knew I was more fortunate than some. Though she’d made her dislike of my actions clear, my mum still put a roof over my head and food on the table. I still had a place to call home. Sadly, many young trans people can’t say the same.

In mid 2024, I spent a few days with a friend to celebrate a mutual friend’s birthday. Both of them also happen to be trans.

Going out and enjoying my first taste of the nightlife with a group of out-and-proud queer people, it was liberating. Though overwhelming at times, the club atmosphere was electric, and it brought out a new side of me that I didn’t even know existed.

Revitalised by a couple of nights away from the usual humdrum of my life, I came home with a new attitude. I started to be more assertive – I am who I am, and I’m not hiding that for another second.

A few weeks later, my trans friend came up in conversation with my mum, and her partner asked what sex my friend was assigned at birth. Not only was the question invasive, but for trans and non-binary people, asking about their assigned sex can be incredibly damaging, and even invalidate their identity. It implies that they’ll always be what they were born as, and not how they identify.

But, before I even had a chance to glance at my mum, she replied, matter-of-factly, “it doesn’t matter what he was born as; we call him a boy, because that’s what he is”.

My heart immediately started to swell with pride – it felt like I was watching a child take their first steps. It was at that moment that I knew it wasn’t too late for things to change.

Now, another six months or so later, my relationship with my mum is the strongest it’s ever been. We’ve had frank conversations about my transition plans, and she’ll refer to me correctly even when talking to total strangers. There’s still the occasional slip-up – using my deadname or the wrong pronouns – but we move past it because it’s still early days, and what matters is that she’s trying.

So, for those who think their parents or carers cannot change, or will never accept their LGBTQIA+ identity, take my advice: it’s never too late to get someone out of their box, and the old adage certainly proves untrue: a leopard really can change its spots.

Teddy is an ambassador for Just Like Us, the LGBT+ young people’s charity. Just Like Us’ LGBT+ Guide for Parents is out now.

The post “How my mum learned to accept me as a young trans person” appeared first on GAY TIMES.