Thursday, January 29, 2015

Do Choice and Change Have Anything to Do With Sexual Orientation or Identity?

One of the most harmful and pervasive arguments against gay rights is this:

“Being gay is a choice.  It’s a preference, not an orientation.”

This argument has always bothered me, but not for the obvious reason.  The obvious reason being of course that sexual orientation generally isn’t considered a choice, and it’s absurd and vile to try and force someone to change something they can’t.

But what if they could?  Would that make it right?  I don’t see how.  To me that only would make it more vile.

It’s my thesis that orientation is occasionally chosen, and does occasionally change.  And that in itself isn’t an argument against diversity, but rather for it.

Let’s Talk Definitions


As the world’s laziest academic, I’m going to turn to Wikipedia.  They already did all the citations for me, and came up with this statement:

“Sexual preference may suggest a degree of voluntary choice, whereas the scientific consensus is that sexual orientation is not a choice.”

Scroll down and you will read this:

“Sexual identity and sexual behavior are closely related to sexual orientation, but they are distinguished, with sexual identity referring to an individual's conception of themselves, behavior referring to actual sexual acts performed by the individual, and orientation referring to "fantasies, attachments and longings.’”

So, according to these definitions:

  • Sexual orientation:  Fantasies, attachments and longings.
  • Sexual behavior:  What a person actually does.
  • Sexual identity:  How a person perceives themselves.
  • Sexual preference:  A leaning toward one thing or another with a degree of choice.  This is indicated as a rather casual thing, like preferring blue over red or vanilla over chocolate or going to the grocery store on Tuesdays instead of Wednesdays. 

These definitions are far from useless, but they still seem a bit incomplete to me.  I mean, for example, what about actual desires, which overlap but sometimes differ from fantasies?  I’m willing to wager lots of people have fantasies they’d never want to act on.  What people are comfortable doing in imaginary realms does not always mix with what they are comfortable doing in the real world.  What about the man who fantasizes about sex with strangers, but in real life feels zero attraction to strangers and zero urge to ever have sex with them (he could even be demisexual)?  What about the woman with dubious consent fantasies, who placed in the same real-life situations would feel utterly traumatized?  Or what about someone who fantasizes about a certain person, but presented with the possibility of actually being with them sexually, discovers they have no real-life interest?

Anyway, the page goes on to add the following useful observations:

  • Sexual identity, behavior and orientation do not always match.

  • The page is not entirely clear on whether sexual identity is hard-wired or chosen, but the implication is that conscious decision-making does play a role.  Clearly it also plays a role in behavior.

The Contradictions Start …


Here’s where things get interesting.

  • According to the APA, “Most people experience little or no sense of choice about their sexual orientation.”

Most people?  This is the APA talking here.  The same Wikipedia page also mentions, “Studies have reported that choice is considered an important factor in orientation for some people.”

Wow.  Why don’t I ever hear about these studies?

Sometimes I think it’s because the LGBTQA+ community worries that talking about choice in relation to sexuality will supply ammunition to the other side—that side that argues “gay is a choice,” and that “gay people can and should change.”  I don’t believe talking about choice is ever ammunition for oppressors.  After all, it isn’t just the natures we were born with that oppressors want to take away; it’s our choices too.

Sex researchers admit they don’t even know how orientations form—whether they are nature or nurture or some combination thereof.  But that means that aside from any hard-wired biological components that go into determining orientation (which indeed would be outside our control), assuming nurture plays any role at all, choice must come into play on some level.  That’s my assertion.  Why?  Because inputs from our environment and other people inform our development.  The choices of other people can impact our orientations.  And on top of that, we make choices every day of our lives, even as small children.  Perhaps not very conscious ones, but well, mileage does vary.  Those choices affect others, and ourselves.

Researchers believe that sexual orientation manifests for most people during mid-childhood and early adolescence—counter to what I’ve usually heard, that people are born a certain way.  This is interesting to me, because this is around the time in most peoples’ lives when choices do start becoming conscious and meaningful.   Nothing in our lives develops in a vacuum.  Everything during that crucial stage is formative.  Our genetics have a formative impact on our thoughts and choices, but our choices and resulting experiences in turn have a formative effect on our neurons and future psychological and biological growth.

I’m not asserting that I believe choice plays a major role for all or even most people with regards to sexual orientation.  But for those it does … it is wrong to pretend these people don’t exist, and don’t carry the same rights as everyone else. 

Can Orientations Change?


I also believe sexual orientation may change throughout a person’s life, that it is something which is not always something fixed and innate, but sometimes quite fluid and alive.  Despite the APA’s implication that choice may play a role for some people with regards to orientation, they are pretty clear about their assertion that once the mortar has set, it’s set in stone.  Here’s what they have to say:

“There is no sound scientific evidence that sexual orientations can be changed.

They do add that awareness of orientation is fluid and that people may become more or less aware of their innate orientations at different points in their lives. 

While I agree 100% with the assertion about shifting awareness, I still don’t agree with the first part of the statement.  Why?  Just as our experiences play a formative role in our adolescence, they continue to do so throughout our adult lives.  While most people may find their sexual orientations fixed in their younger years, who is to say there are no late bloomers (I myself am probably an example of that)?  And who is to say that a person’s experiences and choices over a lifetime cannot lead to the formation of a new orientation later in life by the same processes that formed their initial orientation? 

I want to share a few anecdotes.  These are real people with real life stories.  I know that it’s hard to quantify lives and turn them into data, and I’m not trying.  The uniqueness of these stories is what is important.

Esther


I know a woman, call her Esther, who describes herself as “having been a lesbian.”  I asked to know more, and she described a more complicated situation. 

When Esther was younger, her body only responded to women.  She didn’t experience arousal in response to men.  Contradictorily, her mind didn’t respond to women at all, and only was attracted to men.  The idea of having sex with a woman was completely off-putting to her; the idea of sex with a man was appealing, but didn’t translate into her body.  It wasn’t that she was bisexual, attracted to both men and women.  In essence, her body was homosexual, desiring women, and her mind was heterosexual; it was men she longed for and fantasized about.  As her cerebral desires and fantasies were more compelling to her than her body’s needs, Esther would have preferred to be strictly heterosexual.  She described it as a feeling of being “torn apart.”

Years later, Esther went on hormone replacement therapy for PCOS, and suddenly discovered her body was responsive to men, and no longer to women.  Her psychological draw to men remained unchanged, so she actually became fully heterosexual.  Lucky Esther?  Esther thinks that the change was half chance, half choice.  She believes the change in her body hormonally accounted for part of it, but she also believes wholeheartedly that her psychologically needs eventually drove her physical needs to “catch up” with what she wanted in her heart. 

I’m not sure what sex researches would say about Esther.  I suppose some might assert she’s a latent, permanent lesbian who has suppressed her “real” orientation under a false heterosexual identity, and that she merely has a “preference” for men or is going through a phase or that her PCOS therapy is muddying the waters.  But this is blatantly disrespectful of Esther’s psychological needs.  Not wants—needs, the needs which were always there and still are.  Who has the right to say that this is a case of repression when she now feels complete ease with her orientation?  She no longer feels torn in two. 

Others might argue that she is and always has been bisexual, but again, this would disregard the fact that she had two splintered orientations.  Part of her was distinctly heterosexual and part of her was distinctly homosexual.  I suppose another sex researcher might propose that Esther has always been fully heterosexual and that her PCOS was somehow “obscuring” her sexuality.  While hormones clearly play a role in sexuality, this assertion would ignore the fact that hormones change many times throughout a person’s life.  What if someone like Esther were to undergo another hormonal change (perhaps not related to a health condition at all) and experience another shift in bodily needs in the future?  What if she shifted back to desiring women?  Would the same researcher then argue she was always a lesbian after all?

Esther's story suggests orientations can exist on multiple levels, even in the same person.  Not only that, but whether the body’s, mind’s or spirit’s orientation is most compelling might vary from person to person.  Another woman wired similarly to Esther might have found her body’s needs more compelling than her mind’s, and would have been relieved if her mind could “catch” up to her body and allow her to be fully lesbian.  Another might have been relieved to be able to become fully bisexual. 

But in Esther’s particular case, her cerebral needs were outpacing her physical needs even before the shift in her body.  I find this fascinating, because “the body determines the mind” seems to be the default with researchers.  I guess this shouldn’t be surprising, being as no one is even sure scientifically what “the mind” is, but Esther’s story should give anyone pause.  Sometimes, the mind determines the body, or as Esther puts it, “the spirit was stronger than the flesh.”  

Eva


Now let’s talk about Eva.  Eva is a transgender person, born as a man.  Eva’s gender identity is complicated and doesn’t fit in a binary, and sums up as, “my goal is not to become a woman, but to become the feminine person I would be comfortable as.” 

Originally, growing up as a man, Eva perceived himself as heterosexual, and experienced life that way.  He was attracted to women and fantasized about women.  As Eva became more comfortable with her/his transsexual identity, her/his interests started to broaden.  The porn Eva used to download featured men and women, and Eva would relate to the porn from both sides—as the male and female participant.  Even though Eva continues to find women attractive and still fantasizes about them, s/he noticed the porn videos s/he has been downloading in recent years feature more transsexuals and fewer women.  “Right now, my ultimate fantasy is being my female self.  And since this is my fantasy, it shows up in the videos I download,” s/he explains.  “I can obviously relate more to transsexuals as I’m closer to them than I am to women, physically.”  She goes on to explain that that even though she’s always found women attractive, she also has long been drawn to activities and situations that people “traditionally associate with women.”

Eva adds, “It’s not like my interest has shifted because I still like women, but rather I embraced the notion that a sexual organ isn’t necessarily an identifier of whether someone is male or female and I learned to associate the penis with more than male.  That’s important, because I came to realize it’s not my penis I’m uncomfortable with but my maleness.” 

I asked Eva whether s/he would say her/his orientation actually changed, or had simply been discovered.  “I think I may have discovered it.  On the other hand, it’s not like my appreciation for the notion of women who were born as male was inherent.  I do think my sexuality could have gone different ways in that regard … I think the point is that your sexual identity and orientation may actually be changing constantly.”

Eva’s situation is too complex for me to dissect, but it’s another excellent example of fluidity in sexual experience as well as choice.  It’s a less unusual situation than Esther’s according to the definitions outlined earlier in the sense that this story followed a pathway of discovery more than actual conscious change, though Eva has experienced a genuine shift in fantasies and longings.  That seems to go beyond the definition of identity and wander into the territory of orientation as well.  Both have shifted for Eva. 

Eva’s words on this are interesting as well:  “I did notice a conscious shift, but looking back at my past … I have to wonder to which extent my choices were predestined.  If my life would have gone differently, I think I would still be transgender and would likely still be in the position I am now … Nature already defined me, and I just took a long time to make sense out of what I was given.  I’m quite convinced people can consciously alter their sexual orientation … though I think if you can make such a shift, there was something inside you that you’ve been ignoring.  I think nature defines you in rough terms, and the personal and sexual sophistication you ultimately get to is a culmination of experiences and developments based on and restricted by what nature gave you.  I think you can create minor neurological pathways and have some control over it as well, but you can't completely reprogram your brain. With the analogy of computers, I think you can change some of the software as long as they fit on the hardware in the first place. You can't install Windows software on a Mac, but the software you use certainly changes, and sometimes consciously so.”

Me


I feel like my own situation is nebulous, but it seems relevant to this discussion.  In this entry, I talked about how the internet had a formative role in the development of my pan(gray)romantic and pansexual identity—and how the choices I made in that time helped construct that identity.  To be clear, I consider my orientation demi-pansexual.

As a demisexual (and yes, ace spectrum identities are sexual orientations; let’s try and remember that who you aren’t attracted to matters as much as who you are attracted to), love is a prerequisite to me to form any serious attraction.  My chemistry comes more from my personal connection to someone and their particular energy and less from their physical body.  Because of this, I feel the people I chose to love in my youth influenced my sexual development during those formative years.  And yes, love is a choice.

I think it’s also worth mentioning that I have a hard time with physical contact altogether.  Handshakes and friendly hugs from strangers and even most acquaintances make my skin crawl.  With close friends I can often get comfortable with physicality.  It’s still rare for that to proceed to sexual attraction.  And often for me, simply not being repulsed by the idea of sexual contact with another human being (not just as a fantasy, but as a seriously considered reality) actually qualifies as something resembling attraction—or at least a basis for it.  I’m happy when I find that level of comfort in any form it takes.

I talk in that other blog entry about how I felt a bit like a “blank slate” sexually in some ways stepping into the world.  That probably is a reflection of the fact that attraction is so rare for me.  I went through childhood and puberty without being attracted to anybody.  I had a sex drive, but I suspected I might be entirely asexual, since there was never an urge to act on it.  Assuming orientation indeed isn’t 100% genetic and does generally develop during adolescence, did that mean I had no particular sexual orientation (beyond my latent unknown demisexuality) until sometime in high school or even college?  A very curious thought. 

Anyway, the strange result of my extremely rare attraction was the fact that by the time I started to feel any sense I might be a sexual being, I was so self-aware of my decisions that it all felt very logical and structured to me. 

My pansexual development went something like, "Well, emotionally I can latch on to any person who is really fantastic and meets all my criteria for being an awesome human being, and there aren't going to be a lot of those, so I would be silly to limit the pool of candidates to men or women, so okay, I will potentially be open to whomever impresses me as a person.  And since persons of any sex or gender can impress me, persons of any sex or gender are potentially attractive." 

Because of the above logic, I look for persons, and not for men or women.  It sounds a bit like a math equation, but it’s worked for me and I feel very comfortable with it.  Why does this sound like that equation was built from the ground up?  I’ll share more on why I didn’t feel like I had a reliable “default” in my head as an adolescent in just a second.  I did have a default, but it wasn’t from my heart—it was from my upbringing.  It didn’t reflect desire so much as social expectations. 

Eva told me a story about meeting a somewhat androgynous child when s/he was a child and still identified as a boy.  The child wanted to kiss him, but Eva didn’t know what to do about it.  Eva recalled feeling confused about the situation (and not kissing), and not being sure whether the kissing was desirable or not.  S/he adds, “Thinking back, I might have wanted to kiss but didn’t think it was right.  And I don’t mean morally right.  I mean right as in, I didn’t think it was a possibility in this reality.”

I related to this story because as a child, even though I do recall fantasies pertaining to women as well as men (though most of my early fantasies of intimacy of any sort were in more of an asexual kink vein), I was literally unaware that being gay or pansexual or anything other than heterosexual was possible, much in the same way that if you’re brought up religious, it’s a while before you realize atheism exists or that it’s possible not to believe in a supernatural deity.  I just literally had no conception that LGBTQA+ people existed, or that I could potentially be one. 

So I do recall my earliest thoughts (before the ones described previously) were something like, “Well, I ought to find myself a boy/man.”  I just thought it was “what was done,” though I wasn’t much interested in “finding” anyone at that juncture (again because of a lack of attraction).  That essentially random default was quickly supplanted by my pansexual logic when I realized women and transpersons (who I didn’t fantasize about as a child also for the simple reason I didn’t know they existed!) were on the menu, so to say, and that I could open my sexuality to anyone I damn well pleased. 

Despite how pragmatic and coolly rational that whole process might sound to someone reading it, I didn’t feel free to be myself and be happy until that revelation.  To draw a quote from the film Cloud Atlas, “Knowledge is a mirror and for the first time in my life I was allowed to see who I was and who I might become.”

The “delayed” nature of this process (as a result of my demisexuality as well as my upbringing-induced ignorance) means that logic and choice did have an unusually prominent role in informing my sexual development.  Like Esther, my cerebral mind and spirit had more of an influence on my overall development than my body, though in a very different manner.  My body had little to say on the matter of my sexuality at all; it was essentially neutral beyond a desire for rare comfort.  My mind and spirit effectively told my body what they were interested in, and my body agreed since I derive my physical comfort from my psychological comfort. 

I have no clue if a sex researcher would say that I’m latently pansexual and had to discover it, or say that I have no natural orientation at all and simply have a “preference” for pansexuality developed in lieu of one.  All I know is that my choice to open myself to love with any sex or gender also opened me up to potential attraction to any sex or gender.  I have yearnings and longings and fantasies, just like the next person.  If someone were to try to take away my rights, I would suffer as deeply.  I might prefer vanilla (don’t laugh) over chocolate ice cream—most of the time.  Something like whom I am attracted to or can enjoy a sexual relationship with is a lot more serious than that (though I'd still be pretty miffed if someone tried to take my culinary rights away).  No one has a right to call that a preference.  It’s a need.  And yes, it’s a need that consciously developed, influenced by my choices and values.  Innate or not, my decisions played a role.  That I know.

Why Do We Draw Such a Sharp Line Between Orientation and Identity?


One of the points I hope these anecdotes conveyed is that terms like orientation, identity, behavior, and preferences are helpful—but only up to a point, and all of them are more complex than they appear on the surface.  It is easier to scientifically study what comes from the body than it is to study what comes from the mind, since scientists do not even agree if the mind or free choice exists.  And the soul?  Science doesn't want to touch that with a thousand-foot pole.

Anyone who has ever been “in the closet” knows just how big a role choice can play in sexual orientation.  If orientation is comprised in part by fantasies, attachments and longings, and you have long been repressed, you have to choose to engage those fantasies, attachments and longings.  It is not automatic, even if it is innate.  In that sense, something can be destined and chosen at the same time. And what about people who go most of their lives without something, try it, and find out they can't live without it ever again?  I know there are a lot of vanilla people for example who go clear into middle age without even thinking of kink, only to discover after they try it that it's a core part of them for the rest of their lives.  Many of these people might have been latently kinky, but many probably were not.  

Another interesting observation about fantasies (as an aspect of orientation) is that they also change.  Eva pointed out that s/he was reminded of the notion that when you call a memory, you rewrite it.  Ironically, this means that even (and perhaps especially) the fantasies that are called up time and again are constantly being rewritten, sometimes in big ways, other times in minute ways—but they are always in flux with the course of our lives.

Some Concluding Thoughts


My goal with this essay isn’t to draw a lot of conclusions.  I think it’s too big and complex a topic for that.  Mostly I just want to draw attention (as usual) to the fact that we live in an incredibly diverse world, and it isn’t just sexuality which is a broad spectrum, but also the phenomenological human experience of it, and that too deserves our respect.

Whether we’re talking about orientations or identities—who creates the definitions, the labels and the categories?  We do.  Human beings.  One person’s “lesbian” is another person’s “bisexual.”  One person’s “asexual” is another person’s “sexual.”  It’s important to recognize that we not only have differences in behavior, but in perception.  If someone identifies one way and then behaves in a way that you don’t expect, there is a reason.  If it’s not understood, the best approach is to ask, not assume or slap your own label on that person.

We are not closed systems.  We don’t live in a vacuum, and every nuance of our lives has some kind of an impact on our sexuality and everything else about us.  I’ve never been Deepak Chopra’s biggest fan, but I love one of his recent statements, suggesting that even biology, including our genes and neurons, and not just our psychology, is malleable:

“Here is where a new view of free will is needed. The paradox is real. Genes determine the color of your hair and eyes, but thanks to the emerging science of epigenetics, we now know that genes are also fluid, malleable, and in fact responsive to everything we experience in the world. The same is true of the brain. Its processes follow strict laws of physics and chemistry, yet neurons, synapses, and brain circuitry are open to change simply by the way we lead our lives.”

I don’t wish to delve deep into the question of whether choice or free will exists, but I have to call into question whether there is really a difference between “chosen” and “destined,” and whether these are perhaps just words—incomplete models for the complete and ultimately unknowable reality behind both.  

When our choices are consciously and intelligently made, we do what we feel is right for us.  But what creates that sense of “right for us”?  Biology?  Environment?  Psychology?  The needs of our immortal souls?  A combination?  I doubt anyone can positively answer that question.

I question why something which is chosen or fluid necessarily should be treated as less valid or less of a fact than something innate or fixed.  Another of Eva’s observations is, “As far as I know, there is no principle in nature that says lasting things or fixed things should be valued more than the things that don’t and aren’t.  The projected hierarchy seems to be a human construct.  We like to define and label, and it’s hard to define and label something that keeps changing, hence in many contexts we value fixed notions higher than fluid ones.”

I personally feel this is a genius observation, and reflects the limits we impose on ourselves and others—and maybe we shouldn’t.  As human beings, we become uncomfortable in the face of ambiguity, but much if not all of life takes place inside that uncertain realm.  There is much to be celebrated there.

The Bottom Line:  We All Deserve Respect




One conclusion we can draw from this discussion is that everyone’s sexual orientations, identities, behaviors, and experiences deserve our respect.  And more importantly, the people behind those surprisingly variable labels and categories do.

Whether you believe sexual identity and sexual orientation are two distinct concepts or overlapping traits, whether you believe they’re fixed and innate or flexible and chosen, those beliefs shouldn’t alter the way you treat your fellow human beings.

Let’s come full circle and return to the argument from the beginning of this essay, and answer it:

“Being gay is a choice.  It’s a preference, not an orientation.”

I think I’ve covered enough ground to say that while most sane and reasonable people would not agree with the first part of the above statement, allowing them to easily reject the rest, we can infer that some people hearing that statement might feel violated by it from quite a different angle—as I myself do.  What about the person who hears that statement and does believe his sexuality was partially or totally a choice—and still far more than a “preference?”  Why should that serve as a foundation stone to discriminate against him or “re-educate” him or “cure” him or in any other way impede on his rights as a human being to live the life that is best for him, as determined by him?

And even if you still believe despite everything I have shared that only sexual identity (not orientation) can change, why is sexual identity considered fundamentally less true or less sacred than orientation?  Oftentimes, the most compelling aspects of our lives aren’t what we “arrived” in the world with—but the choices we made along the way.  What is most compelling and important depends on the individual, and that’s always a personal choice.

Whether choice plays a role in establishing a person’s sexual orientation or not will not lessen the damage to that person’s body, mind and soul if others try to take that person’s rights away.  The result is just as devastating in every case, because in every case, we are talking about fundamental integrity and freedom of will being violated.  Our choices reflect our will when they serve our best interests (again, as determined by us), and sometimes choosing is itself is an innate human need.  What if that is part of a person’s orientation?  What if that is the aspect of a certain person which is fixed, changeless and timeless?

Choice isn’t a negative.  Choice makes us human, and choice should carry rights.  We should not devalue people for the packages they came into the world in—their hard-wired orientations, wants and needs.  But we should value them for their choices when those choices empower themselves and others to live fulfilling, happy, meaningful lives.

I want to share a wonderful quote from this absolutely fabulous article over at New Republic by Brandon Ambrosino.  You should head over there and read it next:  

"The re-inventiveness of our human condition is one of our greatest traits, and it’s worth protecting both legally and philosophically."
It should not ultimately matter how a person forms his or her sexuality when we decide to treat others with respect.  We are complex beings with body, mind and spirit—and everyone has the right to give their own “yes” or “no” to different fantasies, behaviors, and experiences for their own reasons.  That is true whether that response comes from genes or from some unconscious development in childhood or from conscious decisions at any point of life.  Whether you want to call it orientation or identity, it is sacred to the individual, and no one has the right to take it away.