#i probably got the word wrong but basically in social psych when the male term is placed before the female term

[ryan-is-a-god]

"he/she" (In a sentence. Example: he/she will be expected to perform this task)

You have butchered the English language, as if it isn't already in shambles. Just say "they", why is it so hard!? This is a job listing you animals!

[geode-sol]

Psych of Self Memoir: The Pattern of Infinity

I’ve never truly understood, certain aspects of my reality. I mean like, I understand that they exist, however a lot of the times I do not understand why they exist. One of these aspects that I do not understand is the collective human ability to create societal concepts that limit us. I bet you can tell that I was one of those kids who asked “why?” about everything. The number of science books I got for Christmas was a bit overwhelming at times. It’s not that I wasn’t interested in science, it was just the sheer amount of the books. So, it shouldn’t have come to no surprise to my mom when I told her that I was no longer believing in Christ. I wonder why they still tell me things in context to their beliefs. I think they mean well, but it’s draining and depressing to hear them talk that way to me. It’s as if  I never actually said anything to them at all. Needless to say, organized religion doesn’t hold a dear place in my heart. My mother is a minister of their faith so it was quite difficult to tell her how I felt about my feelings about my Christian experience and religion as a whole. Basically, I feel that organized religion is just organized hypocrisy. I never told her what I’ve experienced being a part of churches. Maybe if I did, or if I do, then she’d understand.

There was this one summer I went to summer camp at Mount Mariah Baptist Church. All the camp kids were out for recess, and I remember grabbing the jump rope. I thought I could try enhancing my jump roping skills. Then, a  boy grabbing the basketball and then called me gay for doing so. I didn’t understand what it means to be gay, but I knew that being gay wasn’t welcome in our community. I remember asking a friend in the camp what gay meant. She told me something along the lines of “It means you want to have sex with boys”. This was not the last time something like this would happen to me. Not only in church, but at my school too. I remember one day I complained to my mom about the kids picking on me and calling me gay. 

She looked me and asked me,

“Do you like girls?”

I shook my head up and down. Then She said,“You ain’t gay then.” 

The truth was I answered “yes” because most of my friends at the camp were girls, not because I understood my attraction to those of the same or opposite sex as I. It’s important to note that during this time I also didn’t truly understand the concept of sex yet. I understood that sex was a way grown-ups showed each other that they loved each other, but I didn’t understand the physical process of completing the act. The concept of love is an ever-evolving one in my mind. Especially how it’s expressed.

I now think of love as more than just an emotion. One of the ways I attempt to express my love to others is to try my best to be 100% unapologetically myself to others. I haven’t fully accomplished this task, but I like to see it as a journey. One the steps on this journey is honesty. I’ll admit I  haven’t always been as honest, so I try to be as honest as I can. I’m already more open to most when it comes to discussing my life. Although while I was in college my social self-developed into something completely different than my personal self. My social self would put on an act, so that way you think I’m happy and having a good time, but in reality, I’m probably over analyzing whatever situation in a negative context towards myself and or contemplating the meaning of my and humanity’s existence. Once I realized that the person who people saw was a construct of my own mind, I became more or less a recluse.   I believe I became a recluse because I realized that I was being a hypocrite. I remember asking myself “how can I say I want to be open and honest while putting on a mask for friends and other people?”. I remember asking myself “why do I care what they think of me?” I now think this mask I wore was ultimately a way to protect my true self and emotions from the judgments and critiques of others. I did my schoolwork, homework, slept and repeat for the next 3 years of college. 

During one of those years, I became friends with someone unexpected. I consider it an unexpected friendship due to the circumstances of our lives and the beginning of our friendship. Visually if you didn’t ask them, most likely you’d assume they were a young woman. They dress in all black most of the time, and they had a cool hairstyle that I just couldn’t wrap my head around. They were the most intriguing individual I had met at school at the time. I first formally met them freshman year on Halloween. After Halloween, we had this very interesting conversation one day. We were in the main building finishing up class. When in the context of conversation, they said that they found women with penises sexually attractive. 

“You’re serious?” I asked. 

“Absolutely, penises are just oversized clitorises anyway.” They replied. There was a pause afterward. I swear all the background noise of other students walking to class and conversating in the hallways just stopped. You could hear a pencil hit the carpeted floor.

“So, I’ve seen a few people around here who look like a certain gender, but say they’re not, is it wrong for me to think they are the gender they appear to be?”. They sighed and turned to look at me,

“Ultimately yes, it’s never right to assume someone’s gender based on what’s on the surface. It only causes the person who doesn’t identify with who they look on the outside, to feel dysphoric.” 

This was one of the first conversations I’ve had with another person who actually felt similarly to the way I felt about our societies gender constructs. We continued to work on our projects together and give each other critique on our projects, and even started hanging out a bit more. They helped me learn more about the LGBTQIA+ community. However, it wasn’t until my partner started being open about their sexuality and their gender queerness did I start questioning my own sexuality and gender.

I never felt fully attached to one gender. In private I would act what people consider more feminine than most guys should act. In public, I acted more masculine in order to appease those around me. However, as far back as I can remember I never fully felt completely attached to either. Although it wasn’t until my senior year in college when I started to really understand this part of myself. I was having school financial issues, personal financial issues, family relationship issues, school issues, and friendship issues, and romantic relationship issues. I wanted to drop out of school and out of life constantly. Bad things kept happening, all while I was realizing that I didn’t fully understand myself. My outer self is still seen as male by most. I think it’s only because I have zero fashion sense, even though the clothes I do like and wear can be worn by both genders on the binary, it’s hard for other people to get past my “masculine” features.

I always kept to myself about for fear of being blessed out or cursed out, or worse, kicked out. “That’s what girls do”, “That’s what girls want”, “Be a man”, “Man up”. These phrases I never really understood. I always asked myself, “what does it mean to be a man?” “Why do I have to be a man?” “Why do my privates dictate how I should feel or act?” “Why can’t I just be myself?”  Questions I’ve never had the courage to ask out loud to those around me. 

My earliest memory of the start to my pansexuality and my journey being non-binary was when I was watching the national Geographic T.V. show called Taboo. The theme for this show was transgender individuals. I remember watching the show and my older cousin coming into the room, looking at the T.V. and asking me,

“Do you think they look good?”. He said pointing to the T.V. as a Singapore drag pageant was being shown. I said yes, and my cousin started laughing and said

“Those are men. You like men?”. 

“No! No I don’t!”. I exclaimed.

He kept laughing harder and louder at me while I began to shout,

“NO! NO, I DON’T LIKE MEN”. Eventually, my auntie, whose house we were both living in at the time, walked by the room. 

“What’s all that hollering?!” She asked. My older cousin with tears of laughter in his eyes simply stated,

“I asked Gee if he liked those women.” as he pointed to the T.V. My auntie replied,

“Those are men.” My older cousin busted out with laughter again and through the laughter, he uttered the words,

“I KNOW!”. Then continued to laugh as my auntie shook their head in my direction. I actually found them attractive, but I didn’t understand at the time why I did. All I knew was that it was a sin to find them attractive. I’ve had many random flashbacks to my childhood like this one in the context of my thoughts on my own identity. Memories forgotten, and then resurfaced after visiting a psychiatrist several times while in college. I slowly began to understand myself a bit more. I even became more interested in my personal psychology. The patterns of my life that either I can break or make. Patterns like honesty, love for one’s self, love for others, and a continuous education of myself. These are the patterns I’ve come to terms with within myself. I like being honest with others. I like when I feel love for myself. I like expressing my love for others in a positive way. Most importantly, I love educating myself about that which I do not understand, and others who do not understand me. 

It took a long time for me to realize and accept that I identified with being pansexual and being non-binary. I’ve only come out to one person in my family. In times like these I like to remember what my mom would always tell me “Remember who you are. You are a son of God”. Although I never really felt like a son or daughter to my mother, I see the deeper meaning behind their statement. I’m not a literal “son of God”, but I am a product of nature and nurture. I recognize I cannot control every aspect in my life, but ultimately I decide my fate through the patterns I learn and the actions I take. For me, this is my own personal religion. Carl Sagan once said “We are all made up of the same star stuff” from the beginning of the universe. When I lie awake at night this thought comforts me as I contemplate the pattern of infinity.