If you’ve ever thought, “I just don’t feel sexual attraction the way everyone says I’m supposed to,” you’re not broken, behind, or missing a part. You might simply be asexual or somewhere on the ace spectrum. Asexuality is a valid way of being human, even if movies, TV shows, and awkward family dinners sometimes make it seem like everyone is obsessed with sex except you.
In this guide, we’ll walk through what it means to be asexual, clear up some stubborn myths, talk about how asexuality fits into the broader LGBTQ+ community, and share real-life experiences from ace folks. Whether you’re questioning, confidently ace, or just trying to support someone you care about, you’re in the right place.
What Does It Mean to Be Asexual?
At its core, being asexual (often shortened to “ace”) means experiencing little or no sexual attraction to other people. It’s a sexual orientation, just like being straight, gay, or bisexual the difference is that, for ace people, sexual attraction may be absent or only show up in very specific ways.
Sexual attraction is that “I want to do sexual things with this person” feeling. Many asexual people simply don’t get that feeling or they experience it rarely, only under certain conditions, or in ways that don’t line up with cultural expectations. That doesn’t mean they can’t love, flirt, date, get married, or have kids; it just means their relationship with sex is different from what mainstream media portrays as “normal.”
Asexuality vs. Low Libido
Asexuality isn’t the same thing as having a low sex drive. Sex drive (libido) is your internal level of desire for sexual release which you might experience alone, with a partner, or not much at all. Some asexual people masturbate, enjoy physical sensations, or even like certain kinds of sexual activity, but still don’t feel sexual attraction toward others. Others may also have low libido, but that’s not required to be ace.
You can think of it this way:
- Sexual attraction: “I want to do sexual things with this person.”
- Sex drive/libido: “My body or brain wants sexual release.”
Asexuality is about attraction, not whether your body is capable of having sex or orgasms.
Asexuality vs. Celibacy and Abstinence
Another common mix-up: asexuality is not the same as celibacy or abstinence. Celibacy and abstinence are choices about behavior someone decides not to have sex for personal, religious, or other reasons. Asexuality is about orientation, the underlying pattern of attraction. An ace person can be sexually active or celibate; a non-ace (allosexual) person can also be celibate. Behavior and orientation are related, but they’re not identical.
The Ace Spectrum: Not One-Size-Fits-All
Asexuality isn’t a tiny box; it’s a spectrum. People use a range of terms to describe how they experience attraction. Not everyone loves labels, and nobody is required to use them, but many ace folks find these words helpful for understanding themselves and finding community.
Common Identities on the Ace Spectrum
- Asexual: Experiences little or no sexual attraction to others.
- Gray-asexual (gray-ace): Experiences sexual attraction rarely, weakly, or only in specific circumstances.
- Demisexual: Experiences sexual attraction only after forming a strong emotional bond with someone.
- Aceflux: Sexual attraction fluctuates over time, sometimes feeling more asexual, sometimes closer to allosexual.
These terms aren’t medical diagnoses; they’re community-created language that helps people describe complex experiences. Some people try on a label, realize it doesn’t quite fit, and switch that’s normal. Sexuality can be fluid, and self-understanding often grows over time.
Romantic Orientation vs. Sexual Orientation
Here’s another helpful distinction: romantic orientation and sexual orientation aren’t always the same thing. A person might be asexual (little or no sexual attraction) but still experience romantic attraction the desire to date, cuddle, build a life, or fall in love.
Common romantic orientations include:
- Aromantic: Experiences little or no romantic attraction.
- Biromantic: Romantic attraction to more than one gender.
- Heteroromantic: Romantic attraction to a different gender.
- Homoromantic: Romantic attraction to the same gender.
- Panromantic: Romantic attraction regardless of gender.
- Polyromantic: Romantic attraction to multiple, but not all, genders.
So someone might be, for example, biromantic asexual (romantically attracted to more than one gender but not sexually attracted) or aromantic asexual (neither romantic nor sexual attraction). Romantic and sexual attraction are two different “dials,” and for many ace people, those dials are set in unique ways.
Facts and Numbers: How Common Is Asexuality?
Because surveys haven’t always included asexuality as an option, it’s hard to pin down exact numbers. But research suggests that asexuality is more common than many people think.
- Some large population studies have estimated that around 1% or more of people may be asexual or identify with ace-spectrum labels, depending on how questions are asked.
- Studies of sexual minority adults in the United States have found that a measurable portion identify specifically as asexual, and ace people are more likely to be women or nonbinary and younger on average.
- Researchers also note that when “no sexual attraction” or “asexual” is given as a clear survey option, more people select it suggesting that previous surveys likely underestimated the ace population.
In other words, asexuality isn’t rare because it hardly exists; it’s “rare” mostly because it’s under-recognized, under-counted, and often misunderstood.
Common Myths About Asexuality (And Why They’re Wrong)
With limited representation in media, it’s no surprise that myths about asexuality spread easily. Let’s knock out some of the big ones.
Myth 1: “Asexual people just haven’t met the right person.”
You wouldn’t tell a straight person, “You just haven’t met the right man” if they’re a woman who clearly only dates women. Asexuality is a valid orientation, not a temporary glitch waiting to be fixed. Sure, people can discover or refine their identity over time, but that doesn’t mean they’re “waiting” to be converted.
Myth 2: “Asexuality is a hormone problem or a medical disorder.”
Asexuality itself is not classified as a mental illness or a sexual dysfunction. Some people may have medical conditions, medications, or trauma histories that affect sexual desire and those folks deserve compassionate care. But many asexual people are physically healthy, mentally well, and simply don’t experience sexual attraction. Pathologizing asexuality can be harmful and invalidating.
Myth 3: “Asexual people don’t have relationships or intimacy.”
Asexual people can and do build rich, loving connections romantic, platonic, queerplatonic, or something else entirely. Many ace folks date, marry, have kids, or form long-term partnerships; others prefer solo life or close friendships. Just because sex isn’t the main driver doesn’t mean relationships are lacking depth, commitment, or joy.
Myth 4: “Asexual people are cold, robotic, or emotionless.”
This one’s straight out of bad sci-fi. Asexual people feel love, empathy, excitement, heartbreak, and the whole human emotional mess. Not wanting or prioritizing sex does not mean someone is detached or robotic. In fact, many ace folks design their relationships around emotional intimacy, shared interests, or life goals which can be incredibly warm and connected.
Myth 5: “Asexuality is the same as being aromantic.”
Some asexual people are also aromantic, but many are not. A person can be ace and still want romantic dates, cuddles, and “good morning” texts. Others may not care for romance but deeply value friendship and chosen family. Again, romantic and sexual attraction are two separate, though sometimes overlapping, experiences.
Relationships, Boundaries, and Communication
Ace people can navigate a wide range of relationship structures. Some are in relationships with other ace or aromantic people; others are partnered with allosexual (non-ace) folks. What tends to matter most is honest communication and respect for each person’s boundaries and needs.
What Intimacy Can Look Like for Asexual People
Intimacy doesn’t always mean sex. For many asexual people, intimate connection might include:
- Long conversations about life, dreams, and fears
- Physical affection like cuddling, holding hands, or kissing (for those who enjoy it)
- Shared hobbies, creative projects, or co-op video games
- Building a home together, parenting, or caring for pets
- Queerplatonic partnerships, which don’t fit neatly into “just friends” or “romantic partners”
Some ace people are okay with sexual activity for a partner’s sake or for other personal reasons; others aren’t comfortable with it at all. Neither choice is “more ace” or “less ace.” The key is respect, consent, and ongoing communication.
Asexuality and Mental Health
Asexuality itself is not a mental health problem, but living in a world that assumes everyone is allosexual can be stressful. Ace people often deal with:
- Feeling “broken” or “behind” because they don’t match social expectations
- Pressure from partners, peers, or family members to “fix” themselves or “just try harder”
- Lack of representation in media and sex education
- Dismissive reactions when they come out (“It’s just a phase” or “You’ll change your mind”)
Research on ace youth suggests higher rates of anxiety and depression compared with some other LGBTQ+ groups, likely due in part to stigma, invisibility, and misunderstanding. Supportive environments including affirming families, friends, and health professionals can make a huge difference.
If someone is questioning whether they’re asexual and struggling with shame or confusion, talking with an LGBTQ+-affirming therapist or joining ace community spaces online can be grounding and validating.
How to Support Someone Who’s Asexual
Whether you’re a friend, family member, partner, or coworker, you don’t need a PhD in sexuality to be supportive. You just need curiosity, respect, and a willingness to listen.
- Believe them. If someone says they’re asexual, trust that they know their own experience.
- Don’t push “fixes.” Avoid comments like “You just haven’t met the right person” or “Maybe you need hormone tests” unless they bring up medical concerns.
- Ask about boundaries. If you’re in a relationship, talk openly about what each of you wants (or doesn’t want) physically and emotionally.
- Use the language they prefer. Some people love labels, others don’t. Follow their lead on pronouns and identity terms.
- Include them in conversations. Don’t assume topics about dating or relationships don’t apply to ace folks. Ask how they experience attraction and connection.
- Educate yourself. Seek out ace-created resources so your loved one doesn’t have to play “Human Sexuality 101” every time you’re curious.
Real-Life Experiences: What Being Asexual Can Feel Like
No single story captures what it’s like to be asexual. But hearing different perspectives can make the concept feel more real than any definition. The following composite experiences are based on common themes ace people often share. Names and details are changed, but the feelings will be familiar to many.
“I Thought I Was Just a Late Bloomer”
In high school, everyone around Mia seemed to flip a switch. Suddenly her friends were whispering about crushes, obsessing over who kissed whom at the party, and rating celebrities on a 1–10 scale. Mia cared more about her art projects and weekend hikes. She liked people, but not in the “I want to make out with that person” way her friends described.
At first, she figured she was just a late bloomer. In college, she tried dating because it seemed like the next item on the “how to be a normal adult” checklist. She cared deeply about her partners, but when things turned sexual, she often felt confused or pressured. Nothing was technically wrong she just didn’t want it, and couldn’t explain why.
One night, scrolling online after another awkward date, Mia stumbled across the term “asexual.” As she read people’s stories no sexual attraction, feeling out of step with peers, enjoying romance but not sex it was like someone quietly turned a light on. She didn’t decide to be ace; she just finally had a word for what had always been true. That label didn’t trap her; it freed her to build relationships that actually fit.
“I’m Ace, But I Love Romance”
Jordan lights up when they talk about their partner the homemade playlists, cozy movie nights, and long walks with matching iced coffees. They adore cuddling, holding hands, and planning trips together. They just don’t experience sexual attraction, even though they’re deeply in love.
For a long time, Jordan assumed “no sexual attraction” meant “no relationships,” so they tried to force themselves into hookups that left them feeling numb and drained. When they discovered the idea of being biromantic asexual, suddenly everything made more sense: they weren’t broken, they just had a romantic orientation that didn’t line up with their sexual orientation.
Now Jordan and their partner have clear agreements. Their partner knows sex isn’t important to Jordan, and they’ve worked out what physical affection feels good for both of them. Their relationship looks different from the standard script, but it’s honest and joyful and that matters far more than fitting in.
“I Don’t Want Romance at All and That’s Okay”
Sam is both asexual and aromantic. They’re happy living alone with their plants and their cat, deeply invested in their friend group and volunteer work. For years, Sam worried that something was wrong because they never pictured themselves falling in love or walking down an aisle. Society loudly insists everyone should eventually pair off, and Sam’s family often asked, “When are you going to settle down?”
Learning about aromanticism gave Sam language for their experience. They realized they didn’t have to want romance in order to have a meaningful life. Their friendships are central, not secondary. They invest in their community, travel with friends, and plan a future that doesn’t revolve around a partner and it’s full, not empty.
“Coming Out as Ace in a Sexual World”
Coming out as asexual can feel oddly complicated. There’s no dramatic “I’m in love with someone of the same gender” moment to point to; instead, it’s often about what isn’t there. Many ace people come out multiple times to friends, family, doctors, and partners.
Responses vary. Some people shrug supportively and say, “Cool, thanks for telling me.” Others might question, minimize, or try to negotiate: “But what if you just try more?” or “Are you sure it’s not your meds?” For ace folks, every supportive reaction can feel like a breath of fresh air, proof that who they are is welcome.
Over time, many asexual people develop strong self-advocacy skills. They learn to set boundaries around sex, navigate dating apps that assume everyone is allosexual, and find online or in-person ace communities where they don’t have to explain the basics. These spaces can be lifesaving places to trade stories, laugh about weird assumptions, and imagine futures that center their own comfort and joy.
“Designing a Life That Fits”
The thread running through many ace experiences is this: life feels better when you stop trying to live someone else’s script. Some asexual people choose partnership with other ace folks. Some build mixed-orientation relationships where everyone’s needs are openly discussed. Others choose solo life, deep friendships, or queerplatonic partnerships that don’t look like the traditional “couple” model at all.
There’s no single “ace lifestyle.” There’s just you, your values, your comfort, and the relationships that make your life richer. Once you realize asexuality is a valid orientation not a phase, not a defect you can start designing a life that actually fits, instead of squeezing into templates that never felt right.
Bottom Line
Asexuality is a legitimate sexual orientation centered on little or no sexual attraction. It sits on a diverse spectrum of identities and experiences, and it can intersect with many different romantic orientations. Ace people can build deep, meaningful relationships romantic, platonic, or something in between and they deserve to have their identities understood and respected, not dismissed or pathologized.
Whether you’re questioning your own sexuality or supporting someone who identifies as asexual, the most important tools you can bring are curiosity, compassion, and a willingness to believe that there are many valid ways to be human and this is one of them.