My Place is Here

There has been a recent push within certain LGBTQ circles to no longer consider asexuals and aromantics members of the queer community. Those who are in favor of excluding these groups cite a range of arguments, such as the claim that asexuals and aromantics do not face prejudice or oppression, therefore clearing them of a need for a supportive community, the claim that the LGBTQ community was created solely as a force for social change and not as a loving, accepting community of all those who diverge from the cisgender, heterosexual norm, the claim that asexuals and aromantics are "Straight-passing", making theme ineligible for inclusion in the community, or the claim that asexuals and aromantics may face some difficulties in society, but those difficulties are not great enough to warrant fighting for change. Many fundamental flaws exist within exclusionist arguments, but beyond the ideology, many exclusionists make it a point to seek out, harass, belittle, and bully asexuals and aromantics, particularly those who are vocal about their place in the LGBTQ community. These personal attacks can be incredibly hurtful. Asexuals and aromantics, who already face challenges outside the LGBTQ community including prejudice, misinformation, lack of positive representation in media, lack of education on asexuality and aromanticism, corrective therapy, corrective rape, and the constant reinforcement of the beliefs of a sex- and romance-centered society in which platonic love is considered lesser, deserve a place where they are understood, accepted, and unafraid to be who they are. This place is not a community of solely asexuals and aromantics separate from the LGBTQ community, but the LGBTQ community itself. Asexuals and aromantics should not face prejudice from both within and without the LGBTQ community, but should instead be accepted as equals by those who face similar struggles. They should be treated with respect and understanding and should be given the resources they need to support themselves, each other, and the LGBTQ community in which they belong.


Is this the equality you want? Is this the justice, the acceptance, the love and the reverence
Being respected, protected, it feels like I'm being dissected, pieces removed one by one from my mind
Because I'm not with them but I'm not with you so what am I?

That's what they all ask and I thought you were different and I thought you understood and I thought you were kind
Never mind
Strange, it's as if my existence somehow wrongs you, throws you for a loop
And you said you'd never stoop to their level but it looks like you'll redefine the devil just the same and it's me, isn't it?
Always has been.

It's funny, though, isn't it?
Isn't it funny how we squirm when you ask us, "why is it you belong, anyway?"
It's guilty until innocent in the world I used to know
It's guilty until the presentation of an argument worth a cent but it's hard to find the words when you're fighting for your right to live life as you were meant to live it

And these laughs are like knives, they slice from all sides
Dividing, contriving, convoluting your statements that are already senseless but nevertheless you're relentless
I'm defenseless and "tell me again, why is it you belong?" you demand.

You must think we're used to the cold, what with no one to hold us
Like nobody told us before you that there's nothing to do without someone to make you whole.
But who said we're empty, like vases of flowers with faces like hours ticking by on a clock with no hands, hand me a tissue because I must be weeping so deeply, so sadly, so empty, so broken without someone to whom I'm a token to be won.

Tick, tick.
Those are the hands on the stopwatches of the crowd gathered to watch, stop it stop watching
The band here doesn't play for you, sit! Sit down, we play for ourselves, we rise from the ground, stand up, stride upon it, crush rocks under our heels because we've got no feelings anyway, you say.

That's it, isn't it? The feeling we lack, tick tock, step back, watch the faceless flowers wilt in their empty, hollow vases
Watch them shrivel, watch them tilt
Watch them teeter, watch them drop.
"Walk on, don't stop. We don't talk to them anymore."

It's like the crowd's gone blind and I can't stand to look anymore than they can stand to see.
See me!
See me for who I am, who I'm not, see me for my heart, for my thoughts
When I was a girl I thought my heart belonged to someone else because you told me so, you tell me so
"But let it GO!" you say, "that's nothing!"
But when I was a girl I thought my heart was half a work of art, a sketch whose masterpiece was out of reach until at last I'd meet the one I need, and when I was a girl I fell to my knees and I screamed and I said "Who?! When? What if I don't want to begin this way?"
But I walked onward, forward, this is but a prelude, a prologue, nothing but a soggy love story talking my ear off while I wanted to tear my head off because
I don't want that!
I want to be my own hero, but tallying the points society's winning and I've got zero.

Zero, what a concept, like the intercept of nothing a nowhere, and looking at the big screen, peering at it up there and thinking how unjust, how unfair, that one plus one is two and two is greater, two is better, two is best
Two is a step above the rest of us, the loners, the losers
Two is more than friends and two is more than this and more than that and "oh look, poor you, all alone without your two. Not to worry, they'll come around. I know it's not fair."
But that's the thing, isn't it?

The laughter is back, hang me up like a coat on a rack in the dusty basement of a second-hand store that no one visits anymore
String me up like a chandelier to peer at, jeer at as I swing to and fro in your grasp. I can hear.
Can you?

It's like you've lost sight of the things that are right
The justice, the loyalty, the love and equality, it's all fun and games until someone feels no shame to be not two but one, then it's no fun for anyone.
It's all about being who you are until I am who I am, and then who gives a damn if I freeze in the streets? No one, because I chose this, didn't I? I chose aloneness, didn't I? Isn't this what I wanted?
You've got it all wrong, but I'm tired of singing the same, weary song to those who should be singing along.

It's a good thing oppression isn't the criterion I have to meet to be a part of this place, considering you can't see it when you look only on my face, but oh wait, hold on, I guess I was wrong
Because now you're a closed club for the elite and you've got me beat. I guess I don't qualify, you're going to nullify the agreement, I ask "why?" and you tell me "it's never been about you," and you shout me down, shut me out, "It's never been about that," you said as you spat in my face but face it, you don't want to face this fear that you've got and I thought you were different but I thought wrong.

Can I get an extension on the contract, call me back, let me know

This wasn't a contention of our contract but you've got a knack for take-backs—ye giveth, ye taketh away, but that's the thing, isn't it?
You gave me nothing, the right for me to be here has nothing to do with you and your misguided view, we're united in this fight but I swear I'm no ally, we're in this together, unified on the same side, but who are we fighting?

You needed a new enemy, so you chose me.
Tired of living in the warzone you picked someone prone to giving into everything thrown in their direction and revoked your protection and you shoved the vase off the table and shouted, "If your parents won't kick you out of their houses, we'll kick you out of ours!"
We shattered in the wake of your laughter and you danced on the pieces of our whole, broken hearts and split apart in twos and it seems to be the end-all-be-all of life
Without it we fall, without it we fail
Without it we crawl and we drown and we flail
Set me down gently as evidently I've got plenty of time to waste before someone comes by to show me there's more to life than to live alone, but face it, I'd rather be back in the warzone.

The irony burns me, scalding, screaming across my skin and leaving me dreaming of being swept off my feet by a stranger I'll meet, one who will force me to break open the vase, reveal the faces of the flowers encased
And you'll cheer as I scramble backwards in fear because "this is what you're waiting for!
The start of it all, the making you whole, just wait a while, you'll get used to it dear, you'll learn to love your place here."

What if I don't want it?

What if it scares me?

Like I said, no one cares. "This is how it's meant to be. Not on your own, but two, only two, because two is bigger and better than you. You're nothing, you're no one, worthless without, useless within, get out, stay out, run away.
"Run!"

The irony burns because they're talking in turns, telling me everything, bellowing, yelling. You act like I chose to be who I am, chose to be mocked and laughed at like I am, chose like you chose to be who you are. But you're all up in arms because "We didn't choose this, and what harm could it do to exile someone like you? The rest of us, see, we know what it is to be mocked and made fun of and laughed at but you... you know nothing of oppression, nothing of pain. You see, when it rains, it's a river of tears of those who fear to be exiled and wronged, whose suffering is prolonged because year after year they pass a new law and we're clamped in the jaws of injustice and you? Go ahead, pout. Don't let the door hit you on your way out."

They veil their disgust in layers of dust from the books they just wrote on why I should take my coat and run for the streets, they're filling the sheets with quotes about me, and how awful and selfish and useless I am, how if I'm so good I'll go out on my own and make a community I can call home, one as exclusive as the one I was thrown from moments before. That's the thing, though, isn't it? I don't want to be confined to the neutral zone, this war is for me and for you and for us, your words grow rusty as I watch the rain, it's time for this game to end.

I belong like you belong because as much as you hate to acknowledge your fame, you and I are one and the same

I belong like you belong because I'm not with them and I AM with you and you know it's the truth that I've always been here and I've always been queer and if you're not going to hear me out then why should I listen to you?

I'll tell you why, because everyone deserves to have an ally in this world, but mark my words, if you tell me one more time what you think the "A" stands for I might not listen anymore.

It's not fair and it's never been fair and maybe you're acting like a child and just want to pull my hair to see what a crybaby I really am, but never forget that whatever you do, I give a damn about you so think for a minute, stop the hands on that clock, let go of your limited, inhibited thoughts, and think "why would I tear the only safe space away from a people whose lifeline is already frayed, people who care about me and my own, people as deserving of a home as I?

"Why would I take what little they have, wrap it up in a brown paper bag and toss it away like it's nothing to me, why would I shatter their hearts just like mine, when all that they want is to be a part of something a little greater than them?

"Why does it matter they prefer one over two? I see through them to things that we always knew—that people like company and with me and you, united we fight to no longer be lonely, united we fight for only the right to be who we are and to live in a world where who we love doesn't matter, be it one of the same or one of another or no one at all, it no longer matters."

Love is the answer, as it always will be, so just this once, I beg you, please—share a little love with me.