An aromantic or asexual character in Familie or Thuis would have a huge impact”

““Feeling a spark,” “butterflies in your stomach,” “having a connection”…

The vocabulary we use to describe romantic and/or sexual attraction is vast. Yet, it’s difficult to explain what these feelings actually mean. If you ask someone to clarify what they mean by “the spark,” chances are they’ll reply, “You’ll know it when you feel it.” But what if that feeling never comes?

TikTok as a Learning Tool

Not experiencing romantic or sexual attraction in a society obsessed with both can lead to serious self-doubt. That’s something the aromantic and asexual community regularly encounters. To be aromantic and/or asexual means that someone feels little to no romantic or sexual attraction. These are valid orientations like any other, and they don’t necessarily go hand in hand. But they often face misunderstanding.

Twenty-year-old Kaat from Flemish Brabant knows this firsthand: “I feel like very few people really understand what it means, which makes it difficult to come out. Not many people in my life know that I’m aromantic and asexual—not even my parents. When my mom talks about boys, I just ignore it because I don’t feel that kind of attraction to anyone. But she thinks it’ll come someday.”

According to Kaat, part of the problem is the lack of education on these orientations. She discovered she was both asexual (or ‘ace’) and aromantic (‘aro’)—together known as ‘aroace’—through terms she saw on social media. “TikTok introduced me to those labels. In my final year of high school, we briefly covered asexuality, but the explanation was inaccurate, which was really frustrating. Aromanticism wasn’t mentioned at all,” she says.

The Power of Representation

Another contributing factor is the lack of representation in books, series, and films—especially in Dutch-language media. Though things are slowly improving. One popular example is the novel Loveless by Alice Oseman, which has helped many people in their identity journey. There’s also Oseman’s Heartstopper webcomic, adapted into a Netflix series. In season three, the character Isaac—who is both aro and ace—gets significant focus. Viewers see his frustration when friendships get sidelined because someone enters a romantic relationship. Kaat relates deeply: “So many people seem to want a relationship just for the sake of having one. And that always takes priority, even though friendships are just as important.”

Seeing this expressed in a popular series means a lot to people who are aromantic, Kaat notes through her Instagram account @space.aroace.reader, where she shares relatable posts about being aroace with her 2,500 followers. “At first, I only posted memes, but soon I gained followers and began sharing more about books, songs, and shows that feature representation—which isn’t easy to find amid all the love stories. Sometimes I get messages from people who say my page helped them with self-acceptance, and that really means a lot.”

Still, she finds it disappointing that Dutch-language representation mostly comes from translated English works. “If an aromantic or asexual character appeared in Familie or Thuis, it would have a massive impact,” Kaat says. That’s something we’ve seen before—like in 2016 when a trans character was introduced into Thuis, helping to make the topic more widely discussed.

Many Faces

One person pushing for greater visibility is British activist Yasmin Benoit (28). With 75,000 Instagram followers, she’s a leading voice for the asexual community. She helped shape the character Sarah “O” Owen in Sex Education—another hit Netflix series celebrated for its diversity. The character is asexual and of Asian descent.

“Often, when there is asexual representation, it’s through white characters. That becomes the default image of what it means to be ace. But the orientation has many faces. I wanted to reflect that in the character,” Yasmin says.“For a long time, I didn’t come out to those around me because people couldn’t accept that someone like me could be asexual. As a Black woman, I’m often hypersexualized. I also dress in a way that’s sometimes seen as sexy. And even though those things have nothing to do with orientation, people don’t believe me when I say I’m ace. That’s why we need broader representation.”

You might assume that not feeling sexual attraction would be the least offensive thing to people—but the opposite is true,”

Internet Trolls

In 2024, Yasmin became the first asexual person to lead London Pride—a milestone moment that was unfortunately marred by hateful backlash, both from outside and within the LGBTQIA+ community.

“It was a powerful signal from London Pride that ace inclusion matters. But there are always people who feel like I don’t belong. There’s room for everyone. This isn’t a competition about who has experienced the most discrimination,” the activist stresses. And if you think aces don’t face discrimination, think again.

“You might assume that not feeling sexual attraction would be the least offensive thing to people—but the opposite is true,”

Yasmin notes. “Many see it as ‘unnatural’ or assume I’m just seeking attention. And yet, openly expressing sexual interest is still taboo too—especially for women. You can’t win either way. Honestly, the hate comments on my social media could be used as textbook material.

I’ve grown used to them, but I worry about my followers. For them, this can be very painful and discourage them from being open about their orientation.”

Limited Community in Belgium

A study conducted by Yasmin and Stonewall showed that in the UK, only about 1 in 4 ace people are out to their friends. In Belgium, there’s a striking lack of research or data on the subject.

There is a Belgian organization focused on building community for asexual people: vzw Asexual. But no such group exists specifically for those who identify as aromantic. That shows just how few resources exist for Belgians with these orientations to find connection and recognition.

“At one Pride event, I counted how many asexual flags I saw,” says Kaat. “About ten. Aromantic flags? Only two. The community and representation are still really lacking.”

And it’s precisely this scarcity of role models that keeps many people from realizing there’s a name for what they feel. “There are so many people who go through life pretending, thinking something is wrong with them—without knowing there’s actually a word for it,” Yasmin concludes. “Discovering these orientations could save them so much confusion and pain.”

Text: Nikita Goossens (she/her) • Pictures: Yasmin Benoit (she/her)