EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT SEX…OR DIDN’T

 As a writer and long-time journalist, I’m one of those guys who, when faced with a hole in my knowledge, I try to find out everything I can to squelch my ignorance. That means I spend an inordinate amount of time digging around in reference material of all sorts. It also means I used to squander many an hour in libraries or rooting around in whatever musty reference books and sundry printed materials I could lay hands on. But that was admittedly a restrictive activity, simply because, back then, learning everything you always wanted to know about a random topic could have ended up consuming most of the rest of your adult life, to the detriment of all the other random topics of which you might have hoped to glean a measure of knowledge.

Still, it had the virtue of one’s having to exert tremendous effort in the search for knowledge (meaning objective facts), which made you appreciate it all the more once you had it. And it also meant you would probably remember it a lot longer than today, precisely because of the effort you had to make.

In recent years—since the nineties, which, to someone like me, born slightly less than halfway through the previous century, seems like “only yesterday”—I’ve learned a whole new way to do research. Despite being rather an “old dog” by the time the Internet appeared on the scene, I didn’t consider myself above learning new tricks. And almost by accident, I found myself being something of a pioneer, within my limited circle, of the “working at home” culture of the Internet Era.

I’ve been doing precisely that since 1995, when dial-up Internet connections first appeared in Patagonia, a region to which I had moved less than two years before that. In doing so, I came face to face with a self-fulfilling prophecy that I myself had made nearly a decade before, when, writing a communications sidebar to a cover story that Apertura magazine of Buenos Aires published on “The Future”, I said that, in the not so distant future, guys like me, who made their living researching and writing, would be able to do both from the comfort of their own home, even if they lived in a cabin, in the middle of the mountains, in one of the most remote places on earth.

At the time I wrote it, I still lived in a mid-town apartment in Buenos Aires, and it had seemed like a pipe-dream. I mean, I didn’t doubt that it would happen eventually—just not in my lifetime. But suddenly, there I was, a decade later, in my mid-forties, in my Internet-based studio—in a cabin, in the middle of the mountains, in the remote Argentine Patagonia—researching, writing and translating for a variety of clients scattered everywhere from Buenos Aires to Miami, from Madrid to New York, and from Houston to Patagonia. And although, in the beginning, even people in the US had qualms about doing business through the World Wide Web, I hung in there and convinced them there was no need for my presence in big-city offices, or for material to travel by snail mail, or for us to use faxes and teletypes when the Internet could do it all.

What it meant for me personally, was that I had gone from being a stodgy old-school newsman whose manual typewriter they had practically had to pry out of my cold, dead hands, to being among the earliest advocates of the Internet, as much more than a clever novelty—as, indeed, an incredibly useful tool for communication and research.

I was just thinking about that again today when, in some reading I was doing, I came across some information about a French actress who said she identified as “sapiosexual”.  Well, I was stumped. I mean, although I am a very open-minded and liberal person, as someone who grew up in rural Ohio in an era when sexual orientations were obtusely considered to be two—please check one box only, M or F—and anyone who complained about it was sent to therapy, if not to jail, I’ve had to practice to be able to memorize and pronounce the initials LGBTQ. And while I’m a great believer in people doing whatever they want to with their bodies, and particularly with their genitalia, as long as their partners are willing, as long as there’s no pedophilia or unwilling subjugation involved, and as long as I don’t have to watch, it’s okay with me—although watching’s okay too, if that’s what turns you on—I have to admit that a lot of definitions of distinct sexualities have escaped me entirely.

Indeed, I had no idea how many were escaping me until I decided to quickly research sapiosexuality. Looking the term up, I immediately came up with numerous explanations. The best definition was, in short, being sexually or erotically aroused by intelligence, no matter what the physical sex of the other person was. I actually found that a pretty cool idea. A sort of highly cultivated sexual orientation. I mean, I’m far too intellectually inferior and hopelessly hetero for it to be an appealing idea to me personally, but I thought, hey, good for them, these “sapios”! Brains turn them on.

Then, of course, seeking an objective definition, I also read that some sexuality snobs said that while sapiosexuality might be a preference, it certainly wasn’t an orientation. I thought, now wait a minute, why not? What was that saying? That the brain is the most powerful sex organ? In fact, it is the master sex organ because without it, all sexual activity would be moot. So why not be sexually oriented toward intelligence?

These can be put down to the kind of rhetorical questions that assail an experienced editorial writer, I suppose. But that wasn’t the only thing I had to ponder, because I was floored by the brand new (for me) discovery that, besides the handful of sexual orientations about which I’d already reduced my ignorance, another couple of scores existed as well!

It was my own fault. This was what I got for looking up a new term. Start pulling on a loose thread, and the whole shebang came unraveled. How the heck many sexualities can there be, you ask? ¨

Here’s a little sampling. 

Allosexual: As far as I can tell, most of us are this. It means, simply, someone who experiences sexual attraction, period. Doesn’t everybody, you ask? No. Allosexuality is the opposite of Asexuality, and one helps define the other. Someone asexual either has very reduced sexual response, or simply doesn’t experience sexual attraction of any kind. That, however, doesn’t necessarily keep asexuals from feeling romantic attraction to specific people of both (all) sexes. And as such, they may even engage in sexual activity—presumably without really being into it. 

Androsexual means being attracted to all things male and masculine. That seems pretty straightforward, like a me Tarzan, you Jane, kind of thing, but it’s not that simple. It has to do with being attracted to anyone who identifies as being male or masculine—regardless of biology, anatomy or whatever sex was assigned to the object of that attraction on his or her birth certificate.

Then there’s Aromantic (as opposed to “a romantic”), which simply means people, regardless of sex or gender, who experience little or no romantic attraction to anybody. But that definition says nothing about their possibly of still having a strong sex drive and taking part in “unromantic” sex. Or maybe they just end up being Autosexual, which sounds an awful lot like what we used to call “self-abuse”, but apparently isn’t, because (it says here), “someone’s desire to engage in sexual behavior such as masturbation doesn’t determine whether they’re autosexual…” So, wait, I’m confused. If that doesn’t define autosexual, what does?

Now, an Autoromantic is a whole other ball of wax. These are individuals who are attracted to themselves. Autoromantics apparently find themselves experiencing relationships they have with themselves as romantic. Not sure how that works, but it would be worthwhile asking somebody if that’s like the amorous relationship former President Donald Trump has with himself. 

And those are just the ones on the A-list!

Later, we have the Bicurious (people who might ask themselves what their sexuality really is and, as a result, explore bisexual relationships), Bisexual (somebody who is sexually, romantically or emotionally attracted to people of more than one sexual orientation or to different genders—in other words, Bicurious folks who have made up their minds), and Biromantics (individuals who become romantically but not necessarily sexually attracted to people of more than one gender—which kind of sounds to me like a bicurious introvert, but hey, that’s not a scientific explanation, just my own speculation).

Mexican artist Frida Kahlo was a gender non-conformity trailblazer.
Openly bisexual, she would occasionally dress in clothing considered
 stereotypically male, as in this family photo, in which she (center)
 is dressed in a men’s suit with her hair pulled back.  Her artwork
also reflected her thoughts surrounding identity,
gender and sexuality.

Then, there are the Closeted—as the term suggests, people who are “in the closet”, or in other words, individuals who keep their sexual identity, attractions, or gender expressions secret from the public. Some “closet whatevers” may only keep their secrets in certain publics, where they are afraid of being rejected, targeted or discriminated against, but will reveal their proclivities in “friendly” surroundings. Now, the opposite of Closeted is
Coming Out, or in other words, making the decision to reveal, or even advertise, one’s sexual identity, proclivity or gender. I’ve known quite a few outed people and have talked to them about it enough to know that it often comes after a long process (frequently years) of indecision, guilt, social ostracism and general suffering. Which is why I’ve always held those who come out in high esteem for the courage and self-acceptance that it requires. Now, things get complicated with the term Cupiosexual. These are asexual individuals who may not experience sexual attraction per se, but who still have a desire to take part in sexual behavior, or even in a sexual relationship. (Hey, don’t look at me; I have no idea how this works).

Next on the list are Demisexuals and Demiromantics. These are very similar terms in that they refer to having a sexual and/or romantic attraction only under specific circumstances. This would apply, for instance, to people who need to build a romantic or emotional bond before feeling sexual attraction. I think this must apply to quite a number of people I know.

Then there are also people who just kind of go with the flow. They are aptly described as Fluid, which has almost nothing to do with wetness as such, but rather, is a description of people who take it for granted that sexual behavior, sexual attraction, or sexuality in general can change in accordance with the times and the circumstances. Someone with fluid sexuality will embrace shifts in their attractions and behavior in keeping with the circumstances they happen to be living, or simply over the course of time.

I finally hit on one I knew—or thought I did—when I came to Gay on the list. As most of us know, gay individuals (a term that achieved popularity in the sixties) are ones who feel sexually, romantically and emotionally attracted to people of their own sex. This is sometimes so strong that a gay friend of mine once told me, when I mentioned common everyday marriage to him, that he couldn’t help me, since he had never been able to understand hetero (we’ll get to that in a minute) relationships.

I also got into a discussion with another gay friend once when I talked about “gay people” meaning both men and women. He laughed derisively and said, “Wow, Caveman, you’ve gotta get out more! Only men are gay. Women are lesbians.” Typical of my intellectual arrogance, I pressed the point, saying that wasn’t true. That, in fact, the “gay community”, as conceived of in the sixties, included both male and female “homosexuals”. That really cracked him up. He said he wouldn’t know. He’d have to get out his “gay history book” for that one.

Well, I have to say, if you’re reading this, pal, the accepted definition of Gay, according to the list I’m quoting from, stands for both males and females. But the list concedes that “some gay-identified women prefer the term ‘lesbian’, while others might prefer ‘’queer’ or ‘gay’. And, okay, to your point, it also says, “It’s also best to ask which word or term someone uses to describe themselves.” Also, I guess your crack about the “gay history book” wasn’t far off, since the report also says, “The fields of medicine and psychology previously referred to this sexual orientation as homosexual. “Homosexual” is now viewed as an outdated and offensive term and shouldn’t be used to refer to LGBTQIA+ people. (Oh man, more initials to memorize)!

Graysexual: Right, that’s not a misprint. It’s a term to describe a “gray area” (which, out of longstanding habit, I would spell as “grey area”) on the sexuality index. It is reserved for people who may not be overly sexually attracted to anybody, but who also don’t identify as asexual/aromantic. They may experience a certain level of sexual attraction or desire, but not as intensely or frequently as those who identify as completely beyond asexuality.  Similarly, someone Grayromantic might feel the occasional romantic twinge, but not as strongly or as often as someone beyond the bounds of aromanticality.

Gynesexual, as should be clear from the prefix, is all about being attracted to women, females and all things feminine. As with Androsexuality (see above) Gynesexuality isn’t just about guys who like girls. The term specifically includes those who identify as women, females or feminine, regardless of questions of biology, anatomy or birth-certificate sex.

I found familiar territory when I got to Heterosexual. But by the time I got to this term that describes Me, I would have almost modified it with “boring”, as in Boring Heterosexual. As most of you know, the term describes people who are sexually, romantically and/or emotionally attracted to people of the opposite gender (although I have to admit, I’m getting pretty confused about what “opposite” means). This heading is more commonly known as “Straight”. But that doesn’t take into account that trans-gender people (someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth) can also be heterosexual, as can cisgender folks (someone whose internal sense of gender corresponds with the sex the person was identified as having at birth), which is pretty much the majority of people. People like us aren’t included in the initials LGBTQIA+ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning, Intersex—a general term to describe people born with sexual characteristics that are not typically male or female, including sex chromosomes, external genitalia, or an internal reproductive system—and Asexual), with the plus being added, I presume, to symbolize “whatever else might crop up in the future.”

And the list goes on:

Labidoist Asexual (people who are ostensibly asexual but who have sexual cravings satisfied by other means, such as masturbation), Monosexual (typically, those who feel attracted only to people of one gender—meaning people who are exclusively heterosexual, gay or lesbian), Non-Labidoist Asexuals (people with no sexual attraction or sex drive at all), Omnisexuals (people with an indiscriminate sexual appetite that spans the entire spectrum of sexual possibilities), and similarly, Pansexuals/Panromantics (people who can feel sexual, romantic or emotional attraction to anyone, regardless of their gender, sex or sexual orientation).

Which leads us to Polysexuality (bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual and queer people, among others). Passing is when a person of any other sexuality is assumed to be hetero or cisgender.  Queer is a term we heteros were told we weren’t allowed to use anymore because it was insulting to homosexual folks. This makes it a lesser cousin to the N-word, which some African Americans use pretty regularly in vernacular conversation, but which is vile and discriminatory when it issues from the lips of a white person. In the case of sexuality, it is the Q in LBGTQIA+, and is a term used in that community to describe anyone who is not strictly hetero. It’s a word given to grey areas that don’t fit neatly into the gay, lesbian or bisexual categories. As such, it has no dependence on sex, sexuality or gender. There is also, however, another Q—namely, Questioning. This describes the process of becoming “curious” about exploring nuances in one’s sexuality. And it also applies to people who are currently exploring their sexuality or gender. 

Sex-Averse is not so much a choice of sexuality as exactly the opposite—people in the “asexual” classification who are utterly disinterested in or even violently opposed to sex and sexual behavior and activity in general. Sex-Favorable is the term reserved for usually asexual people who can, in certain situations, be positive toward or even favorable to sex. Then there is Sex-Indifferent, in other words, asexual-leaning people who are, nevertheless, indifferent to or neutral to sex or sexual behavior issues. Sex-Repulsed, meanwhile, is, as the name implies, the term that describes asexuals who are, directly opposed to and repelled by anything to do with sex. Skoliosexuality is the word for those who are attracted to others who do not identify as cis-gender—for instance, non-binary, genderqueer, and transgender individuals. Spectrasexuals are sexually or romantically attracted to people of multiple or varied sexual and gender persuasions, but not necessarily to all of them.

From what we’ve seen in the contents of this list, it would appear that the only way to quickly differentiate in polite conversation between the sexual majority and others would be by describing them as either “straight” or “queer”.

But in the end, why describe, classify, or pigeonhole others at all? Why not just accept everyone as another human being like you or me, with all of our doubts, dichotomies, preferences, proclivities, quirks and idiosyncrasies? But in the end, nevertheless, all children of the Earth, just seeking to get through this life the best way we know how. What business is it of mine what lifestyle you embrace? What business is it or yours whom I fall in love with, or what we do behind closed doors to express it, and in the intimacy of private lives?