When I (a male) first realized that I had fallen in love with another man, I did not feel shame. I did not feel fear. I only felt what I could only describe to be "euphoria." It was an entire eureka moment for my life. This peeled back so many inconsistencies that I had learned from religious institutions and cyclic familial biases. This made me want to build more bridges with other folk, understand where others were coming from, and I became such a dramatically different person from my teens as a result. That was a decade ago.

Since then, I've continued to create and write about queer people, queer relationships, queer aspirations and ideals. Heading into the 2020s, the concept of being trans became more and more visible in and around my life. And it's been even more recently that I've started to articulate my queer preferences with my own identity. To say that being trans 'crossed my mind' would be an understatement.

I've done the research, I've chatted with trans friends, I've sat and listened to various stories from other individuals, and I would even attempt at great lengths to envision myself as a woman. Yet, I still didn't feel a eureka moment--not a 'click' that made sense. If anything, there was an absence of feeling. This was a strong contrast to when I found out that I was bi so long ago.

What most transfolk have told me was that "body dysphoria" was a key part of the trans experience (and any of y'all can speak up on your experiences as well). It's been described as distress, unease, and a complete unhappiness with how one looks--when they look into the mirror and what they see. It's something much more innate, more intrinsic to a person's being, than many who aren't trans may realize. And yet, I don't think I've felt this. At least, what I have felt is something I haven't quite found the right words for yet.

A trans friend put it into perspective when they talked about "body euphoria" or finding a certain look or identity that gives you validation/confidence/pride in oneself.

In fact, many years ago, a childhood friend drew a female version of my entire friend group, and it got me thinking--

"Wow! I look cute!" I thought.

"Wait... do I want to be cute?" And suddenly, silence.

The more I contemplate this silence in my head, the more a growing part of me wants to rip out the--sometimes literal, sometimes abstract--constraints that bind down gender identity by its roots. That, or fully leave them behind to find something *else*. Something *other*.

Because, see, I've felt this 'euphoria' some days; letting my hair grow out long, then getting my hair cut, sometimes with facial hair, sometimes fully shaved, I like putting on a suit and being sleek and slim, and other times I might wear nothing at all and simply absorb what I was, skin and all. I compare what I look like, what feels good to me, to what broader society or culture might idealize--perpetuate--in a man and in a woman, and something doesn't connect. Let me clarify, there are things about both genders that excite me, get my blood pumping (this is the bisexual talking), but the qualities that I might like and adore in 'others' are still not quite 'me.' As it stands, that 'euphoria' is a mysterious beast that has continued to elude me.

But who knows. One day, it might all make sense to me, and you will see me as a fully realized man or woman or something else. Something *other*. Until then--

I was the "I don't care as long as you don't show that to children" type of h0m0ph0bic

One of the last cases I remember myself posting homophobic comments was when the news of a possible Frozen 2 had started circulating around internet and almost everyone wanted Elsa to be a canon lesbian.

15 year old me was "worried about little kids". I commented something like, 'We can't do that. Kids have always been taught that the prince gets the princess. What if they ask questions?'

Unlike many haters nowadays, I had the good luck of encountering a kind lady, who saw my comment and patiently explained that kids can be taught everything, that diversity is a good thing and all. She didn't critize me, or use harsh words. If she had been rude to me, like allies are often to haters, I might have grown bitter and never discovered my true self. I'll never forget you, nice woman!

But, what truly transformed me into a raging ally was the #loveislove. I had seen the hashtag many times before. But one day, I saw it on a post and just kind of stared at it in awe. I remember thinking, "I'm an idiot. I'm a a-hole. Who do I think I am??? Hating people that are in love? Wanting to stop them from being in love?? Aren't I always going on about how love is the most sublime feeling and everything? How are queer people any different?"

After that, I educated myself. I started reading on LGBTQ+ community, learning things I never knew I never knew (reference intended) and becoming a true ally and supporter.

It didn't take much time after that to learn that I wasn't just an ally. I was part of the community, of this huge family that I had been protecting. My people, where I felt truly accepted and understood.

Finding out I was in the ace and aro spectrum was the biggest step towards accepting and cherishing myself for who I am. And I hope that I can be as much help to questioning kids as I want to be.

So yes, I'm aroace and proud! My pronouns are whatever you guys feel like calling me, even nor/mal. (In your face, haters)

I will not tolerate any type of hate or invalidation towards anyone. My blog is a safe space for everyone, no matter how "convoluted" your gender or orientation might be. Allos are pleaded not to be offended by my often hostile-looking posts. Just because I'm sex-repulsed, doesn't mean you're not valid. I love you all!