Labels have always felt more like a cage than a comfort to me. Sure, they can be useful for communication, for quick explanations, for connecting with others who share similar experiences. But the second I try to fit myself into a label, it feels like I have to cut off parts of myself just to make it work. No single word or phrase can fully capture the nuance of my identity, and every time I try to describe myself within the limits of existing labels, I feel like I have to sacrifice something whether it be an important detail, a contradiction, a feeling that doesn’t quite align with what people expect those words to mean. (￢_￢;)
I’m an enby-transmasc with a GNC/androgynous/IDGAF-fluid expression. That already sounds like a tangled mess of words, but that’s because no single term really fits. My gender expression is chaotic on purpose. My transition goal? To confuse the masses. I love the ambiguity, the defiance, the way I can exist in a space that challenges what people think they know about gender. But at the same time, when society forces me to pick a side, when legal forms or social expectations demand a box to check, I squish myself into the “M” box because it’s the closest thing that works. But even then, it’s not a perfect fit. It’s not the whole story. My identity is more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, personality… stuff. What is that even called? Is there a term that fully encapsulates my relationship with gender? And, more importantly, do I even want one?
I’ve spent years trying to find the right words, micro labels, neopronouns, and the more I search, the more I realize that language is limited. Words can only do so much when gender itself is an experience that constantly shifts and evolves. Maybe some people find comfort in labels, in having a clear and defined identity, but for me, labels often feel like they’re trying to put me in a box that wasn’t built for me. They force simplifications, stripping away the contradictions and fluidity that make up who I am. And when people hear a label, they come with their own preconceived notions of what it means, which rarely align with my own reality. It’s frustrating to feel like I have to constantly explain, to justify, to clarify, when the truth is, I just want to exist as myself without needing to distill that down into something easily digestible.
My experience with attraction is just as complicated. If I had to shove myself into categories, I’d say demisexual biromantic, but even that doesn’t sit quite right. Attraction, for me, isn’t about gender, and it isn’t about aesthetics. I’m a person who likes people, and what draws me in isn’t the way someone looks… it’s their personality, their energy, what they like, how they smile, their values, their goals, the way they think and express themselves. But) even that explanation feels incomplete. The way I experience attraction is different from most people I’ve met. It doesn’t follow a predictable pattern, and it doesn’t fit neatly into the words that exist to describe it. I feel like I will always have to go down the friends to lovers pipeline because I just cant be attracted to someone if I don’t truly know who they are.
After being in a T4T relationship, though, I’ve realized that THAT is something I deeply value. There’s an intimacy there that goes beyond just romance or attraction. It’s a shared understanding, an unspoken connection that makes me feel truly seen in a way I never had before. There’s a level of emotional complexity in T4T relationships that I don’t think anything else could compare to. It’s not just about who I’m attracted to… it’s about how I relate to someone on a fundamental level, how we navigate identity and existence together. It’s something that I struggle to put into words because, again, language fails me. But I know what it feels like, and that’s enough. Maybe someday ill write more thoroughly about it.
At the end of the day, labels can be useful, but they’re not everything. For simplicity’s sake, I just call myself trans & bi. It can help describe pieces of me, but they’ll never fully capture who I am. And honestly? I think that’s ok. The ambiguity, the contradictions, the lack of a neat definition, it makes me feel more free. I don’t need a word to tell me who I am. I just need to be able to live as myself, unapologetically, without having to explain it to anyone who demands a simple answer. And if that confuses people? Good. Maybe it’ll make them question why they need everything to fit into boxes in the first place.