Why Dating is Harder When You’re Asexual
Part 1 of a Series on Asexual Relationship Formation and Maintenance
Before I knew I was asexual, I always found dating to be difficult. I knew, on some level, that I was different, but I didn’t have the language to explain why. What I did have was a sense of what relationships were supposed to look like—and a quiet awareness that I wasn’t quite fitting into that model.
So I tried to.
Like many people, I felt the pull of what I now understand as allonormative expectations—the idea that sexual attraction and sexual behavior are natural and necessary parts of relationships. Even when it didn’t feel aligned, there was a sense that this was just part of how dating worked. Something to figure out. Something that would eventually make sense.
I met my now partner in World of Warcraft, where our friendship slowly grew into something more. Looking back, that foundation mattered more than I realized at the time. It created space for communication, for trust, and for building connection without immediately centering sex. That foundation is what allowed our relationship to adapt later, when I began to self-identify as asexual.
At the time, though, I didn’t have that framework. I just knew that dating felt harder than it seemed to for other people.
It turns out, there are reasons for that.
Where This Comes From
This post—and the series that follows—draws from my current research, including a forthcoming manuscript and systematic literature review on intimate relationship formation and maintenance featuring an asexual partner.
Across that work, a consistent pattern emerged: the challenges asexual individuals experience in dating are not random. They are patterned, predictable, and tied to broader cultural assumptions about relationships.
“Relationship formation was challenge-dominant, with no examples of asexuality being considered a strength within the formation of new intimate relationships.”
This isn’t a minor trend. It’s a consistent finding across the literature.
Dating Doesn’t Start at the Same Place
When we talk about dating, most of us are operating from the same unspoken script.
You meet someone. There’s attraction. You spend time together. At some point, sex becomes part of the relationship. From there, intimacy deepens.
It’s such a familiar progression that we rarely stop to question it. But in my research, it became clear that this script doesn’t actually fit everyone. And for asexual individuals, it doesn’t just fail to fit—it creates barriers from the very beginning.
For many asexual people, dating doesn’t begin with curiosity. It begins with explanation.
Asexuality is often defined as experiencing little to no sexual attraction. But that definition doesn’t capture what it feels like to date while holding that identity. Many people have never encountered asexuality before, or if they have, they misunderstand it. Some assume it means a lack of interest in relationships altogether. Others interpret it as temporary, or something that can be changed.
So conversations shift quickly:
What does this mean?
Will this change?
What does this look like in a relationship?
These questions often carry doubt—an assumption that something needs to be clarified or reconsidered. Over time, that changes the experience of dating. Instead of simply getting to know someone, many asexual individuals find themselves anticipating misunderstanding and deciding when it feels safe to be honest.
The Numbers Matter—But They’re Not the Whole Story
Asexual individuals make up a small percentage of the population, often estimated around 1–2% (Rothblum et al., 2020). On its surface, that creates a straightforward challenge: fewer potential partners.
But the issue isn’t just numerical. It’s structural.
“A central barrier in relationship formation was the limited access to compatible partners.”
Even in spaces designed to expand dating opportunities—apps, LGBTQ+ communities, online platforms—sexual attraction is often assumed to be central. Profiles are built around it. Matching systems rely on it. Conversations are oriented toward it.
In my review, participants described how difficult it can be to find someone who is not only compatible, but affirming. Some spoke about the limitations of asexual-specific dating platforms, including inactive users or lack of local matches. Others described negative experiences on more general platforms, where disclosing their identity led to confusion, invalidation, or being treated as something to be figured out rather than someone to connect with (Higginbottom, 2024; Vares, 2018) .
Access to people doesn’t necessarily mean access to understanding.
Even Shared Identity Doesn’t Guarantee Connection
It’s easy to assume that dating another asexual person would solve many of these challenges. But that assumption doesn’t hold up well in practice.
“Overcoming population scarcity did not eliminate the inherent complexities of dating.”
Participants in the literature described meeting other asexual individuals who seemed compatible on paper—similar interests, aligned identities—but still not feeling a romantic connection. A shared identity didn’t remove the basic uncertainties of dating: attraction, emotional connection, and timing still mattered (Higginbottom, 2024) .
Asexual individuals are navigating the same complexities as anyone else—just within a narrower and less supported context.
Mistrust Changes the Starting Point
One of the more difficult patterns in my research is how often mistrust shows up early in dating.
And it doesn’t come out of nowhere.
Some participants described relationships that ended when partners realized that sexual attraction wasn’t going to change. Others described being told they just hadn’t met the “right person” yet, or that sex would eventually become necessary. In some cases, this translated into pressure—subtle or explicit—to compromise boundaries in order to maintain the relationship (Higginbottom, 2024; Vares, 2018) .
So when asexual individuals enter new dating situations, they often carry those experiences with them.
Will this person understand?
Will they expect me to change?
Will this become a problem later?
Dating becomes not just about possibility, but about risk.
Dating Apps Don’t Solve the Problem
It’s often assumed that technology has made dating easier. In some ways, it has. But for asexual individuals, it’s complicated.
Most dating platforms are built around quick judgments and implicit assumptions about attraction. Profiles emphasize physical appearance. Algorithms prioritize patterns that often align with sexual or romantic signaling. And identity categories, when they exist, don’t always capture the nuance of asexual experience.
Even platforms designed to be more inclusive can fall short. Limited user bases, geographic constraints, and lack of widespread awareness all contribute to a system where access is expanded, but meaningful compatibility remains difficult to find (Higginbottom, 2024) .
The Bigger Issue We Don’t Talk About
Underneath all of this is a broader belief that shapes how we understand relationships:
That sex is essential.
“Sexual essentialism…describes the centrality of sex within the allosexual world, where sex is deemed an essential part of human experience and relational viability.”
This idea shows up everywhere—in dating culture, in media, and in how people interpret attraction and love. It’s often treated as a given.
But in my research, this assumption repeatedly created problems. Asexual individuals described having their relationships dismissed or misunderstood—not because of a lack of connection, but because of a lack of sex .
When sex is treated as a requirement, anything outside of that framework becomes harder to recognize as valid.
What This Means Moving Forward
Looking back at my own experience, it makes more sense now why dating felt difficult before I had the language to understand it. It wasn’t just about individual compatibility. It was about navigating expectations that didn’t fit.
Asexual individuals are not struggling with dating because they don’t want connection.
They are navigating:
A smaller and less visible dating pool
Widespread misunderstanding of their identity
Cultural expectations that center sex as necessary
Past experiences that make caution a reasonable response
And despite all of this, many still pursue relationships, intimacy, and partnership—just not always in the ways people expect.
In the next post, I’ll move away from challenges and focus on something that is often overlooked: what asexual relationships do well. Specifically, how communication becomes not just important, but foundational—and what that reveals about relationships more broadly.
References
Hall, D. L., Randall, A. K., Boyles, J., & Miller, N. A. (2026; Manuscript in Preparation). Coloring Outside of the Lines: A Systematic Literature Review of Intimate Relationship Formation and Maintenance Featuring an Asexual Partner (Manuscript in preparation).
Higginbottom, B. (2024). The nuances of intimacy: Asexual perspectives and experiences with dating and relationships. Archives of Sexual Behavior, 53(5), 1899–1914. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10508-024-02846-0
Rothblum, E. D., Krueger, E. A., Kittle, K. R., & Meyer, I. H. (2020). Asexual and Non-Asexual Respondents from a U.S. Population-Based Study of Sexual Minorities. Archives of sexual behavior, 49(2), 757–767. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10508-019-01485-0
Vares, T. (2018). “My asexuality is not a phase”: Asexual identities and intimate relationships. Sexualities, 21(4), 509–526. https://doi.org/10.1177/1363460717709096
