“Ask Kai: Advice for the Apocalypse” is a column by Kai Cheng Thom to help you survive and thrive in a challenging world. Have a question? Email askkai@xtramagazine.com.
Hi Kai,
I’m an Asian gay man and I’ve always felt “less than” other gay men. It’s no secret that Asian men are at the bottom of the pecking order when it comes to sex and romance. I work out a lot and I would say I’m stylish when it comes to clothing, hair style, etc., but the truth is, it’s really hard for me to get a date or even hook up (except for gross Asian fetishists who want me to play a very specific role in bed).
And now with COVID-19, it’s basically nothing on the dating front for me. I get really worked up and even angry about this, but is it okay to be angry that people won’t have sex with me? No one is entitled to sex, right? It feels like I have a really unhealthy relationship to sex because of this situation. I’m worried about becoming some kind of gay incel type. Halp!
Gay Asian Guy (GAG)
Dear GAG,
What a powerful and important letter! I honour your vulnerable sharing, your courageous self reflection and your clear articulation of the systemic barriers and challenges in your romantic and sexual life. You are most certainly not alone in your experience, yet so very few people are able to talk the issues of sexual discrimination and sexual racism without lapsing, as you say, into the disturbing realm of “incel” discourse.
Judging by what you’ve said in your letter, GAG, you are not an incel. You are not a bad or violent person for wanting to have sex, nor for being frustrated that racist standards of male beauty have gotten in the way of finding respectful erotic connections. There is nothing wrong or bad about your desire, nor is there anything wrong or bad about your feelings of anger at racism and discrimination.
The colonial culture in which we live has severely desexualized Asian men, and queer and gay communities are no exception. Even in the supposedly “woke” era, it is depressingly unsurprising to see the words “no fats, femmes or Asians” plastered across some excruciatingly mediocre white guy’s Grindr profile. And while many would-be liberals and “anti-racist” allies are perhaps ashamed to state their preferences out loud, social research analyses of dating app data show that Asian men are among the two least likely groups to receive messages from others. That the other least messaged group is Black women suggests that the problem goes way beyond personal preferences or insecurities. Rather, sexuality and dating are a key battleground where systemic racism, power and privilege play themselves out.
In your letter, GAG, you point out that “no one is entitled to sex,” a feminist slogan that rose to mainstream prominence in the mid-2000s and early 2010s as awareness of rape culture and male attitudes of entitlement to women’s bodies become increasingly widespread. (Alas, not widespread enough to actually end rape culture.) And indeed, it is true: No one is entitled to the reciprocation of sexual desire or sexual invitations.
That is to say, no one should ever try to coerce or manipulate someone into having sex with them, nor should anyone ever guilt or shame another person for declining a sexual overture. Yet, as with all popular political slogans, some key nuance gets lost with the blanket statement “no one is entitled to sex.” Namely that while no one is entitled to sex with any particular person, we are all entitled to a sexuality. And that sexuality should be free from harmful stereotypes and racist discrimination, GAG.
One major issue with contemporary feminism in both its mainstream and radical incarnations is that, like most of the rest of colonial society, it maintains a very rudimentary understanding of intimacy, sexuality and their connection to the rest of human experience. On the one hand, “sex positivity” holds that we should celebrate sex and refrain from slut-shaming. Yet much of the feminist movement remains confused about how we can actually engage in a practical way with erotic experiences that are complex, messy, painful or unpleasant.
What does it mean to be sex positive while living in a body that is often denigrated as sexually undeserving (racialized, fat, older, disabled)? Without exploring this critical nuance, sex positivity can inadvertently prop up double standards whereby privileged bodies are celebrated for their sexuality while marginalized bodies are cast as unsexy and unworthy. We need a sexual politic that affirms all bodies as deserving of pleasure while also affirming body sovereignty and the essential importance of consent.
“What does it mean to be sex positive while living in a body that is often denigrated as sexually undeserving?”
Perhaps because of our society’s collective trauma around sexual entitlement and sexual violence, we use phrases such as “no one is entitled to sex!” to slam the door shut on the conversation around sexual inequity and sexual racism. In our fear of enabling incels and other misogynists, we lose the distinction between toxic sexualized anger and healthy frustration about sexual discrimination. We forget that it is possible to simultaneously repudiate all forms of rape culture while being critical of the power structures that shape sexual desires.
Crucially, we also lose the ability to discuss sexuality and erotic intimacy as fundamental human drives and needs that have real impacts on our mental and physical health. You say that you are angry, GAG, that people don’t want to have sex with you because you are Asian. But if I were to guess (and please forgive me if I presume too much), I might also hazard to say that inside of your anger, you are also feeling sad, lonely and rejected. And if you are feeling that way, then it’s pretty likely that many other Asian men are, as well—and the same goes for Black women, disabled folks, elders and anyone else who has been systematically excluded from the world of desirability (what sexologist Gayle Rubin calls the “charmed circle”).
So please know, GAG, that you are not alone in your anger, nor in any other feelings that you may have about sexual racism. I have felt both angry and sad about sexual racism at times in my life, as have many people I’ve known both personally and professionally. For many (if not most) adults, our erotic selves lie at the core of our being. Intimacy, romance and sex have the power to bring out our deepest vulnerabilities and nourish our most profound emotional needs. Our ability to experience desire and feeling desired are crucial to establishing a secure sense of self and to our emotional growth.
Sexual racism and discrimination interrupt that process of growth. They send the message that we are inherently unworthy of desire and incapable of desiring; that our erotic selves are wrong, disgusting, monstrous, unlovable—and not because of the things we do but because of who and what we are.
This can be traumatizing—or at least that’s what I believe, GAG. It can cause wounds that cut deep into the soul. Being fetishized repeatedly can be similarly hurtful, because it denies us agency over our own bodies; it says that we are only objects to be used for other people’s pleasure rather than deserving pleasure in our own right.
So how can we make room for the anger, pain, hurt and sadness of sexual racism in a way that’s healthy? It begins with being able to separate our anger at the collective system of whiteness and white-body supremacy from our interactions with individual human beings. And it involves owning how so many rejections and insults over the course of our entire lives can create enormous pain that can flare up in response to rejection and disappointment.
The next step is knowing how to hold that pain in a way that is fair and aligns with our values—in this case, probably values around consent, compassion and respect for human autonomy. What does that look like? Obviously, pressuring or shaming someone who doesn’t want to have sex with you is out of the question. But it is okay to be angry at a society that denies so many people erotic agency in so many different ways. And it’s okay—even good—to talk about this issue in a mature way that is focused on pushing back against stereotypes and building solidarity with other groups that experience sexual discrimination. Doing so actually makes us less likely to go down the “incel” route of lashing out and participating in rape culture because we are much more liable to lose control of our anger when we try to repress it.
Something that I have found to be particularly helpful for Asian queer men who are close to me (and that was helpful for me when I still identified as a man) is cultivating relationships and solidarity with other men of colour, particularly other Asian men. In doing so, one often has to re-evaluate one’s own relationship to the systems of power and beauty standards that dominate our erotic worlds. Beyond simply sharing in each other’s anger and frustration, are we as racialized people able to find each other beautiful, attractive, desirable? Can we come together in celebration of one another’s erotic power and growth?
In the height of the AIDS crisis, when gay male sexuality was being decimated and demonized, sexologist Joseph Kramer created the Body Electric workshops, in which gay men of all ages, body types and serological statuses came together to share in safe, consensual nudity and erotic touch. I’ve often thought that such deeply loving, radically sexy interventions could be incredibly powerful for marginalized groups that have been profoundly harmed by sexual racism and discrimination (and, by the way, the Body Electric School still exists!). While the Body Electric School itself has historically not focused on sexual racism or healing for people of colour, its legacy has opened the door to similar kinds of cultural erotic work. Collectives such as Wellcelium and Holistic Resistance bring a contemporary racial and social justice lens to embodiment work and intimacy activism.
“Body pride” workshops, nude retreats, naked yoga, play parties and other forms of radically body-positive gatherings can be incredibly powerful and healing in ways that can transmute anger and pain into pleasure and joy. While I’ve only rarely heard of such gatherings that are specifically for racialized (or specifically for Asian) queer men, it only takes a few friends to make the magic happen. What about you, GAG? Could you see yourself going down the road of becoming a radically sex-positive, anti-racist changemaker?
“The paths to sexual liberation can be endless and exhilarating.”
If group exploration seems a little intense to jump into right away, I often recommend one-on-one sex coaching or somatic sex education as a more private entry to reclaiming your erotic freedom. Unlike traditional psychotherapists, such professionals often work with people on a very intimate level specifically on issues such as masturbation coaching, erotic exploration, pleasure and genital mapping, and other themes that very few therapists are trained in. Sex coaches and somatic sex educators often (but not always) are also trained to incorporate live erotic experiences, nudity or touch in their sessions, which can have incredible effects when held within safe, professional boundaries. Always make sure that your sex professional has been properly trained!
The paths to sexual liberation can be endless and exhilarating, GAG, if you know where to look and refuse to give up. The secret to being angry in a healthy way is to explore and channel that anger—to let it fuel you to look for better answers, to seek and create a better culture. It’s not fair that we have to do this work for ourselves. Yet it is the work that has been given to us to do, and it is work that can transform more deeply than you might believe is possible.
Don’t give up on yourself, GAG, and don’t fear your anger. Anger, like our bodies, has been demonized, but anger itself can be incredibly sexy because it is closely related to arousal and eros, to the spark of movement and desire in us that can become a roaring fire of pleasure and transformation. Your anger is great, sexy, important and powerful, GAG—so is your body and your desire. Let them take you to places of great discovery. You are more than this world has ever dreamed.
Want more Kai? Check out her latest Quick Tips video, where Kai tackles an asexual reader’s issues with the misperceptions of friends.
Kai Cheng Thom is no longer a registered or practicing mental health professional. The opinions expressed in this column are not intended or implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. All content in this column, including, but not limited to, all text, graphics, videos and images, is for general information purposes only. This column, its author, Xtra (including its parent and affiliated companies, as well as their directors, officers, employees, successors and assigns) and any guest authors are not responsible for the accuracy of the information contained in this column or the outcome of following any information provided directly or indirectly from it.
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