Asexual Sighting: Poppy (Huge)

 

This past year, I’ve been on the lookout for asexual and/or aromantic characters in fiction.  No easy task, let me tell so.  Love looms large in the vast majority of stories, and sex is a popular topic for most writers.  The idea of a character who’s genuinely disinterested in sex and/or romantic relationships probably seems detrimental.  In fact, after a year of keeping my eyes and ears open, the best I could do were a few non-specified asexual-coded characters.

 

Until now.  When I reviewed Huge, I didn’t mention my primary reason for seeking it out: a definitively-stated asexual character.  In this case, the character is Poppy, the perky, friendly-to-a-fault girls’ counselor at Camp Victory.  A former camper herself, Poppy is a sometimes-overbearing ray of sunshine who cares deeply for her teenage charges.

 

Right off the bat, Poppy is unlike the other potentially-asexual characters I’ve encountered (chiefly, Sheldon Cooper and Sherlock Holmes – more on them another day.)  There’s her obvious lack of Y-chromosome, of course; a female character with no potential to be romantically entangled with a man or provide a little girl-on-girl action?  Whatever will we do with her?  More seriously, though, she doesn’t possess the un-relatable genius, standoffishness, and social disregard of her unconfirmed counterparts.  While Sheldon and Sherlock often come across as unemotional insult-machines, Poppy is warm and cheery, giving away hugs like they’re going out of style.

 

She is socially awkward, but in an entirely different way.  While the others don’t care to play well with others, Poppy is perhaps too eager.  She smiles and skips her way through the summer, leaving some of her jaded teenage campers rolling their eyes at her.  Still, I could buy this as more of a camp-counselor stereotype than anything else, a characterization that likely predated the decision to write her as asexual.  It certainly doesn’t fit any asexual stereotypes I’ve encountered.

 

However, it’s made clear that any awkwardness on her part isn’t what’s keeping her from dating.  Nope – that’s entirely her decision, and it’s based entirely on her orientation.  She explicitly comes out as ace to another counselor, admitting (without an ounce of hand-wringing) that she’s simply never felt the way so many of her friends have, and that she’s figured out that just isn’t who she is.  It’s no cause for concern, nothing abnormal to be whispered about when she’s out of earshot.  She’s asexual (and, it would seem, aromantic,) and she’s perfectly content to be so.  The counselor she tells is surprised and a bit curious, but 100% accepting and supportive.

 

It’s a shame that Poppy is as revolutionary as she is.  How can it be that, in all the books/movies/shows/etc. that I’ve seen or read, I’ve only encountered one character who openly identifies as asexual?   I know that other minority orientations have similar issues with visibility, and portrayals of LGBTQ characters in general still have a long way to go, but that doesn’t make it better.

 

Thank you to Poppy and Huge for this friendly, affectionate ace character, and for simply saying the word aloud.  It needs to be said, and I wish more shows would take your lead.