a deep and meaningful about seasons

Today’s post is in resposnse to this daily prompt about seasons turning.

Summer is for socialising

Summer is easily my favourite season. For me, summer is about warmth and comfort. It is beaches and parks and having fun outside with friends. Summer always seems so colourful because the brighter light makes the colours so much clearer and more real. The increased sensory input during this time makes me feel so much more alive than at other times of the year that I can happily deal with the sudden abundance of biting insects and the necessary daily application of sunblock. Summer is carefree and easy. Summer is for socialising.

Autumn is for appreciating

Autumn closely follows summer as my second favourite season. Autumn is better suited to my introverted nature as it encourages inner peace and reflection. All around, birds and insects start to quieten down. The light fades earlier, the sun rises later, and leaves start to change colour and fall off trees. Autumn is a symbol of the changing seasons, a gentle reminder to appreciate the warmth and the beauty of the outside world while it lasts, and a trigger for memories of all the autumns I’ve had. Looking back and reflecting brings nostalgia and also pride for how far I’ve come and how much I’ve grown. Autumn is inner joy and childlike wonder of the world. Autumn is for appreciating.

Winter is for waiting

I don’t like winter. Winter, to me, is cold and dark. It is sad and it is lonely. It is sitting inside by myself without even insects to keep me company. But most of all, winter is struggling. It is fighting against the elements, fighting to stay warm, to keep on top of illness, fighting to get rooms and laundry and shoes to dry. Winter is a test of your ability to survive while you wait for it to be done and gone. The only things that get you through the harshness of winter are the warm meals, the fire in the fireplace, and spending the long cold nights with family. Winter is a test of endurance. Winter is for waiting.

Spring is hope

Spring is a pretty miserable season really. It’s wet and rainy and full of pollen and hayfever. But spring is precious because it marks the end of winter. Spring lets you know the cold and dark is finally over and you’ve made it through. Spring shows you that the worst is behind you and things are going to get better from now on. Spring also brings the idea of a fresh start and new beginnings. Everywhere around you, baby animals are being born and new leaves and blossoms are growing on trees. I myself am a spring baby, so spring marks the beginning of a new year for me. Spring is starting again. Spring is hope.

What this means to me

The turning of the seasons is just one of many many cyclic occurences present throughout the natural world. Cycles such as this are so important because they are constantly changing and reminding us that nothing stays the same, nothing lasts forever. The seasons are a reminder to appreciate what you have while it lasts, and to not get too hung up on the negatives in your life because, like everything else, even those will come to pass. They tell me that it is important to forge ahead while the tides are with me, but that it’s also okay to give in and go with the flow when the tides turn against me.

The only thing certain in this life is change, constant and endless. It can be beautiful and it can be heartbreaking, but in the end it is change that allows us to live and grow in this incredible world in which we live.

What do the changing seasons mean to you? 



exploring my romantic orientation (or lack thereof)


A brief intro to romantic orientations
Romantic orientation describes who someone is inclined to form romantic relationships with. It often uses the same prefixes as sexual orientation (homoromantic, heteroromantic, biromantic, etc) but is considered seperate from sexual orientation, especially by asexuals who do not experience sexual attraction but often experience romantic attraction and desire romantic relationships. For most people who identify with sexual orientations other than asexual, their romantic and sexual orientations align but this is not always the case and conflicting sexual and romantic orientations do occur.

My original assumptions
For the past month or so, I’ve been so overjoyed at finding a label for my sexual orientation (asexual) that I didn’t really think much beyond that. I did some vague research on romantic orientations and applied the same logic to my romantic identity as I had originally applied to my sexual orientation. That logic being:

  • I don’t really see males/females/non-binary people differently when it comes to attraction and relationships.
  • As far as I’m concerned I would judge each person’s character individually when considering whether or not to have a romantic relationship with them and that would not be affected in any way by their gender identity or sex.
  • Therefore I must be panromantic, possibly demi-panromantic.

So I went with panromantic and left it at that.

Then fate intervened
I stumbled across this post yesterday and read it completely out of curiosity. I didn’t expect it to resonate so strongly with my own feelings and past experiences and I left in a complete frenzy of questions about my identity. I’d never really thought about what it meant to have a ‘romantic attraction’ or what a ‘romantic’ relationship actually meant to me. All of a sudden it was like realising I don’t experience sexual attraction all over again – a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that I kind of always knew something was different there but I never really stopped to examine it.

Relationships almost always leave me feeling trapped 
The post described a feeling of being ‘caged’ when in a relationship – like being in a romantic relationship is trapping you and wearing you down rather than building you up. And I do feel that in my romantic (and even  close platonic) realtionships there has been pressure on me to behave, act and feel certain ways that have been in conflict with how I actually felt and wanted to behave. This left me feeling like my personality was being suppressed by the relationshipthat I was losing my individuality and becoming an entity. I tell people – friends, close friends especially, and my partner – that I need a lot of space. I live with my partner but I have my own room because I need a lot of time to be me, to recover from the assimilation that I feel happens when I spend a lot of time with people. I plead with people not to be offended when I take time (sometimes a long time, months even) to myself, to just be and to get away, but ultimately I have lost a lot of friends, and significant others this way. Because how can they not take it personally? I don’t want to spend time with them. I’d rather be alone. And I can’t deny this. But I also know that I need them, and that I will need them when I come back from spending time alone.

I’ve often felt relieved when relationships have ended
The post mentioned feeling relieved when relationships have ended and I have definitely felt that with previous relationships. It made me feel awful and terribly guilty but as soon as the behavioural expectations associated with the romantic relationship (holding hands, cuddling all the time, kissing, etc) were lifted I felt like I could breathe again and it was such a relief. (I’m so fortunate my current partner is very understanding of my random and frequent need for space and lack of physical contact from time to time. He lets me do everything at my own pace and I am so so grateful to him for this).

What does ‘romantic’ mean to me? How is it different from platonic?
Finally, I realised that all of my romantic relationships have begun as strong platonic friendships that have morphed into romantic relationships.
I suddenly realised I needed to question whether I actually do experience romantic attraction at all. Where do I draw the line between platonic and romantic relationships?
I had to dig deep into my memories to try and recall exact thoughts and feelings. After a bit of soul searching, I found that I could answer that question. (That in itself made this experience different from when I was exploring my sexual orientation because I could not really answer what sexual attraction meant to me.) I can honestly say that I have felt romantic attraction a handful of times. I have felt the warm feeling in my chest that says I’m excited to see someone, to talk with them, get to know them. The feeling that allows me to read their body language easily and learn so much about them so quickly simply because I am interested and I want to. This, to me, feels like what I expect of a romantic attraction.
For my strictly platonic friends, I enjoy their company a lot, but I don’t get that same feeling, that buzz of excitement and anticipation when spending time with them. I don’t memorise their habits, body language, and words so I can analyse and understand how they think and respond with their own body language, humour and terminology. These are things I have only done when romantically attracted to someone that handful of times.

What do I want in this situation?
When I feel like this, I feel as though I want the friendship/relationship to be more and more intense, but in reality I know that it’s perfect the way it is, that there’s a fine line between having this fun, carefree, platonic relationship, and falling over into the awkwardness and complicated mess that is a romantic relationship. So basically, I feel like I want more from the friendship, but really I don’t. And if I’m put in the situation where the other person wants a romantic relationship, things get scary very quickly and the whole nature of the relationship takes a turn for the worse. Ultimately, the romantic attraction disappears very quickly.

Applying a label
As I have experienced romantic attraction (even if I can count all the instances on one hand) I don’t feel as though I’m truly aromantic, but rather somewhere under grey-aromantic since

  • I experience romantic attraction infrequently
  • I have to have a very strong emotional attachment with someone before experiencing romantic attraction
  • When I experience romantic attraction I don’t truly desire a romantic relationship
  • My romantic attraction is somewhat blurred with my platonic attraction

I revealed to myself a very clearly defined set of experiences, feelings and situations in which I experienced my romantic attractions. And when I laid it all out, I realised that I’ve read a word that basically covers all of this exactly. Lithromantic, an orientation on the aromantic spectrum, where someone feels romantic attraction but doesn’t need or want reciprocation of those feelings.

What does it mean to be lithromantic?
I went straight to google and one of the first things I stumbled across was this beautiful story. It describes to perfection the way that I take in, learn and memorise every minute detail about the people who I develop romantic attractions to. How every interaction with this person is electrifying and fulfilling and enough but not enough in its own way. How I don’t need (and really really don’t want) to be exclusively tied down, to be obligated to spend time with them and enjoy their company, how that would ultimately destroy the relationship by changing it so irreversibly.
This person has basically written out my soul into a story and it is so perfect and beautiful I can’t actually believe it’s real.

That brings me to the end of my journey to dicovering my romantic orientation (as of yesterday). I hope it’s been interesting/educational because it sure was an exciting experience for me and one more step on the road to self discovery!

Have you had a similar or interesting story surrounding the exploration of your romantic orientation?
If you are lithromantic/grey-aromantic/aromantic, how did you come to discover this about yourself?
What are your thoughts on lithromanticism?

I’d love to hear your stories and opinions.


just a word of thanks

I was (finally) writing my About page yesterday, and realised something quite important. Although I built this blog with a desire to help others find people like them and come to terms with who they are, the simple act of writing about my deepest thoughts and feelings has already started to help me in ways I didn’t anticipate.

After only 2 weeks, a handful of posts, and a little time each day browsing other wonderful blogs, I feel as though I have become a completely different person. I have opened up about things that I have kept locked inside since I was about seven years old (or younger! But I only remember actively locking them inside from seven…) and I could never have imagined how free I now feel as a result.

Most of the time I feel calm and at ease in my own skin, truly and deeply accepting of who I am on the inside once I finally admitted it to a small and wonderful section of the world. But more importantly, I’ve now noticed that I’m actually beginning to really feel things again. Anger, frustration, sadness, joy – they are all so much sharper to me now, almost as though I’ve allowed myself to feel them properly now that I’m taking steps to properly accept myself. And it feels good to properly feel again.

And so I wanted to thank you all for being receptive to my posts, my rants, my stories. Thank you for making me feel welcome, and for giving me somewhere safe to express and accept myself. I hope you all find similar peace and support in your own blogospheres.


more labels to toss around the room

Today I’m marching on to a topic that is becoming more and more acceptable to discuss publicly as it is explored in the media more and more frequently – sexuality, or sexual orientation.

I count myself as one of the few fortunate enough to have grown up in a time and place where no one has ever tried to teach me that sexual orientation is something that you can get right or wrong. That is not to say that I haven’t seen people being treated unfairly because of their sexual orientation, but I am full of hope that it is possible for members of the younger generations to get all the way to adulthood without being taught any prejudice, anger or fear for people based on this.

As a kid, I didn’t really think about relationships or marriage much – people try to avoid teaching you that stuff until you’re a bit older, so I just figured it was one of those adult things that would happen eventually. All the adults that I knew were either male/female married couples, or they were single (divorced, widowed or simply never married). So the only thing I really thought was that you either choose to get married, or choose to not get married. I was dead set on being a hermit on a mountain somewhere, so it seemed like an obvious choice for me!

No, not this kind of hermit! It would be pretty cool though.

As I got older, they started to teach me a bit more, and I came across the concept of homosexuality. It was interesting, but otherwise uneventful. I just kind of thought: “Oh, okay. I didn’t know that was a thing. I wonder why I don’t know anyone like that. I guess it’s just really uncommon.” Though I still held onto my dreams of being a hermit, I thought to myself that if I did end up getting married, it would probably be to a guy because then we could both climb trees and play video games together. I really didn’t want to think about spending all my time shopping and talking about fake tans. (Obviously there were no gender stereotypes in kid-me’s head at all.)

Clearly every woman is like this.

When I was about 15, I took a Health class as a more interesting alternative to Economics (which was driving me insane). It was definitely interesting. We had an all female class (the only guy dropped out after the first week… go figure) and I learnt a lot more about sex than I ever really needed or wanted to know. But I was introduced to the term, bisexuality, and that was quite an interesting thing for me to get my head around. I don’t know if I’m strange in this or not (I know I’m strange in a lot of other ways) but at 15, I had never really thought about sex in the slightest (possibly not helped by the fact that I was so conflicted with my gender identity).  I’d had a couple of boyfriends, sure, but they really were just that to me. Friends that were boys, that you got to hug, and hold hands with, and talk about everything with. Sex was something gross and weird and adult and I wasn’t ready to stop being a kid, ever.

So my then-current understanding of relationships was that there were three options:

1) You’re heterosexual and you get married to someone of the opposite gender

2) You’re homosexual and you get a Civil Union with someone of the same gender

3) You don’t marry, move to the mountains and grow a long beard

Option 4) Seduce Peter Pan.

There really wasn’t room in my understanding for bisexuality, because you couldn’t get married to two people. Around about this time, my best friend opened up about being bisexual. I didn’t really know what to think about that. I remember bringing it up with an adult who told me that people our age were often confused about what they wanted, and liked to experiment and try new things to figure it out. I knew that I didn’t have a clue what I wanted really, except for some good, close friends, but she had been very confident and relaxed about her sexual identity – like it was just another fact about her. She could have been talking about her hair colour. (Now, of course, I appreciate that that’s exactly what your sexual orientation is – a fact about you, and not a definition of you.)


Although for Medusa, her hair -kinda- does define her.

Then, I got a boyfriend (who I’m still with today). Unfortunately, around this time my best friend and I had a falling out and stopped speaking to each other. I doubt I’ll ever know what that was about – whether she was hurt that I wouldn’t be able to hang out with her as much, or if it was something more than that – but I realised that losing her felt exactly the same to me as losing boyfriends I’d had in the past. I’d enjoyed her company, admired her talents, loved getting to know her, and I kind of thought, what’s the difference between that and what I had with boyfirends?

From what I knew, the main difference between a close friendship, and a sexual relationship was the sexual part – the intimacy and the sexual attraction. The trouble was, the sexual part was the bit I felt I didn’t get the instructions for. I was capable of being attracted to people, but not really for their bodies. I didn’t really look at people and think, wow, they look hot. I could appreciate the difference between looking nice and looking ugly (which I actually feel bad for thinking. I hate judging people based on how they look), but I wasn’t really attracted to people based on this alone. It took me a while, but eventually I realised that it was people’s personalities, actions and motivations that spoke loudest to me. What I was attracted to was who people were, how they saw and interacted with life, and how they treated me. And with that understanding came the realisation that I really didn’t care whether they had boobs or a beard, because that wasn’t the part that mattered to me.

What mattered was whether or not they had a cat.

Since then I have learnt that there are a whole range of other sexual identites out there. There are multiple labels that could apply to me but I would probably say that bisexual or pansexual fits best. But the label itself is mostly academic as I am happy with my boyfriend.

I find myself reluctant to discuss my sexuality because it’s so easy to just let people assume I am straight because I have a boyfriend. I feel as though there would be no benefit to coming out as bi- or pan-sexual and risk being alienated by both my straight and gay friends. That being said, I don’t really try to hide my attractions towards girls (or my mix-and-matched gender identity), I just don’t put a label on it and nobody asks any questions. I’m pretty sure that some of my family and friends know or have guessed that I’m not your regular het girl, but they seem content to stay quiet and not throw labels around. The one or two people I have told have been very accepting, but often seem desperate to divert the conversation elsewhere. And I’m okay with that, because it really is just one more fact about me, and it doesn’t define me. It’s just a personal preference.

Thanks for reading and be sure to let me know if you have any thoughts or opinions on this topic.


straight into the deep end

I’m going to start by taking a bold step and talking about the topic that is the most difficult for me to talk about to anyone, the topic that causes and has caused me the most anguish and unease in my day-to-day life. It is something extremely fundamental to who we are, how we perceive others, and how we decide on our own behaviours and reactions to the people around us. It is something that is normally so basic and straightforward that it is usually taken for granted.

If you haven’t already guessed, my topic for this post is gender identity.

Just to clarify briefly what I mean by that, gender identity is the gender or genders that you personally identify with. It’s how you feel on the inside. It can be different from biological sex, which is the genetics and anatomy that you were born with.

Most people assume that if you’re born with boy parts, you’re a boy, and if you’re born with girl parts you’re a girl. And for the majority of the population, this is a reasonably safe assumption. But gender identity is not something that is openly talked about usually, and so you may not even be aware that there are a significant number of people around you for whom this assumption is not true. From the safety of hiding behind my screen, I can put my hand right up and say:

“Hi! I am one of those people! Nice to meet you.”

So, I suppose I should tell a little bit about my gender.

I am biologically female. So I have boobs, and estrogen, and two X chromosomes, and I tick the box marked “Female” on forms and documents. But from a very young age, I have not been completely comfortable with the last item on that list.

When I was about 3 or 4 years old, I got a doll for Christmas. I immediately threw it across the room. Now, when you are about 3 or 4 years old, you think that your parents are the highest form of divine being. In your eyes, they know everything, and they are showing you to the path that is right for you. They are basically God. (Or at least that is my experience.) Of course, I never asked for things that I wanted, so in reality my parents couldn’t have known that I wanted building blocks, or toy dinosaurs, but I felt like they knew everything so they must know. I felt like maybe I hadn’t been good enough that year, that maybe I was being pusnished by receiving a present that I couldn’t really use or enjoy. Yes, you can judge me and say I should have been grateful I got anything at all, but really, I probably would have been happier not getting anything than having to face the realisation that:

a) my parents didn’t know everything and weren’t God (yeah, this was bound to happen eventually but it still hurt!)

and b) that I was a girl, and this was a girl toy, but we weren’t right for each other so… something wasn’t right here.

I didn’t get any more dolls as presents. And as soon as I started dressing myself, I stopped wearing dresses, skirts, or pink. This was made much easier because almost all of my clothes were hand-me-downs from a male family friend, but I think I would have avoided thoses items of clothing regardless. It wasn’t that I refused to wear them if I was required to for some occasion like a wedding, but I just preferred not to wear overly feminine clothes. Soemtimes my school friends would ask me why I always wore my trademark shorts and tee shirt and sandals and I would just tell them that it was comfy and practical, and that you can’t climb trees or monkey bars in a dress. Because at Primary School it was really only the clothing and hair that differentiated boys and girls. Anatomically there wasn’t much difference in size, strength and shape. I had the choice about my clothing. If I had the choice about my hair, it would have been short too. But at this age, just dressing and acting ‘male’ was enough for me.

Intermediate was much more challenging. We were introduced to school uniforms. To this day, I am extremely grateful that I went to such a realxed and tolerant intermediate school. The girls were allowed to wear skirts or shorts. I was told that none of the girls wear the shorts, but I didn’t care. I bought a pair of each. And within 2 weeks of school starting and me wearing my shorts alone among the girls, a handful of other girls had bought shorts too. I had gotten a few odd looks in the first few days, but after that nothing. And that acceptance was a beautiful thing to come so easily from 11 and 12 year old kids. Unfortunately, Intermediate school became challenging in other ways because girls and boys were starting to differentiate in appearance. And, (heaven forbid!) we were beginning to get hormones. (GASP) I felt, more than ever, that I would have to pick a side. It was becoming more and more difficult to get along with both boys and girls, and I didn’t really feel like I belonged with either. The girls were into suntans and makeup and shaving their legs and boys. The boys just wanted to muck around, run around, and play. I knew which side I wanted to be on. (Here’s a clue: I couldn’t care less about suntans or makeup!) But it was quickly becoming harder for me to pass myself off as “one of the guys”. They were all getting bigger and stronger, and I was getting curvier. Probably the most upsetting thing to me at the time was that I could no longer win any wrestling matches. (I know, so sad. I’ll never be a pro wrestler)

High school was a big mess for me. I’m pretty sure it’s a big mess for everyone. I think it’s meant to be. I stopped trying to be “one of the guys”. I kind of just stopped trying in general, socially. I drifted from group to group, and decided to focus instead on my schoolwork. As a result, I got amazing grades, but had practically no social life.

With these amazing grades, I was able to get into the most male dominated degree: Engineering. People often ask me if its difficult being in a class with so few girls, but honestly, we don’t really notice the gender imbalance. The girls in engineering do tend to stick together for numerous reasons, but in class we find that we all think alike. We don’t think like girls or like guys. We simply think like engineers. And, for the most part, (there are a few exceptions, but very few) we are not treated differently.

So after all of that confused mess of flashbacks, I still haven’t really given you a label for my gender identity. I think that that’s an important thing to note, because many of you may have come up with some possible labels while reading this story. It’s important to realise that it’s human nature to try to label things as it makes it easier for you to react to them and deal with them appropriately. But it’s equally important to remember that my gender identity is the label that I personally identify best with. Looking back at my story, I’m sure that there are many labels that could apply, and I could also argue that the only label I need is my name, that I am me, unique, and that’s okay. But I also find comfort in having a label for myself, because it means that there is a category for me. That I’m not alone, or wrong, or broken. That there are other people out there who are like me. And the label that I think best describes myself is genderqueer.

What does that mean? It means that I don’t really identify as exclusively male or female. Neither gender is strongly representative of how I feel on the inside, but rather I feel as though I am somewhere in the middle, enjoying traits of both genders. I feel that instictively I am more male on the inside, but over time I have ‘learnt’ (in a sense) how to be more female (helped along by being biologically female). I don’t really know if this is what I wanted to become or not, but it is who I am now, and I’m happy to accept that. When I was younger, I would sometimes entertain the thought of taking steps to actually become male, but the process seems so unnatural and destructive to me (I didn’t even really want to get my ears pierced for a long while!) and I don’t really want to put my body through that, or risk in any way the health and safety of the body that I have been given. I really want to add here that I don’t have anything at all against people who do decide to take steps to change their sex – quite the opposite in fact! I admire wholeheartedly the bravery and determination required for that kind of decision. You are much stronger people than I could be. And I respect that everyone has the right to make the decision for themself.

The other reason I chose this label to identify with is that I feel like this is a challenge that has been given to me – that I have been given this conflicting set of identities in my body and mind as a test that I must overcome personally. And it has been given to me to help me to better understand people and their diversity. Really, I have learnt so much about accepting other people through coming to terms with my own identity that I feel it would be taking a step backwards in my own personal progress if I were to decide to change my sex at this stage.

So this is who I am. It wasn’t really that difficult for me to talk about after all. But I still feel like it’s something you can’t voice out loud, whether because the suject is taboo, or because many people simply don’t understand (or don’t want to). All the same it feels good to get it off my chest.

There aren’t a lot of well-known genderqueer role models to look up to in the world. I don’t know of any and I haven’t personally met anyone that has told me they identify as genderqueer, but this doesn’t really surprise me since I haven’t really told anyone that I am (except for you guys)! Based on this, chances are that this could be the first genderqueer life story you’ve heard and I hope that I’ve shown you something new through my perspective on life. And to anyone reading who is genderqueer, or gender non-binary in some way, I would love to hear from you, and I would like to say to you that you are not alone in your struggles 🙂
To anyone reading (gender identity of any kind, including everyone who is thinking ‘but I’m just a regular guy/girl’), I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on what I have shared today.

Thank you so much for reading!


silentlyqueer: Who am I and why am I here?

Well to begin, my name is Q, and I’m a white 20-something year old just trying to make my way through life. In a lot of ways I’m pretty content. I have a great family, a great education, and I live in a peaceful little paradise at the bottom of the world.  So what could I possibly have to blog about?

Well if you’ve been lured here by the title of my blog, you might have some clue. Yes, on the outside I’m incredibly privileged (and extremely grateful for everything life has just handed to me!), but on the inside I’m a little bit different in a number of ways.

For starters, I was raised to not ask for things and to make the most of everything that I had. Yes, I was one of those kids who used the pencil right down to the last few centimetres, and kept a treasure trove of tiny pieces of eraser that my friends couldn’t be bothered with anymore. I never throw out paper if there is still a side that can be written or drawn on, and I take great pride in appreciating and caring for everything I own. I learnt from a very young age that I really didn’t need the latest gadget, or toy to be happy. In fact, I never had to worry about losing or breaking toys I didn’t have and I saw this as a huge plus! The only thing I really wanted was a gameboy color and a pokemon game when they came out. But of course, I couldn’t ask for this. So I saved. At $2 pocket money a week, I saved up for over a year to get that gameboy. I still have it today.

But this is all a digression. The point I’m trying to make is that I don’t tend to really talk about the things I want in my life. I’m extremely introverted when it comes to my personal opinions and feelings, and in social situations I tend to focus on other people’s lives and problems. But there are things I’ve wanted through my life that are pretty unconventional. That I haven’t told people about. Hence the ‘silent’ part of my blog title. (Yes, its an ironic title. I am breaking my silence simply by having this blog!)

So really, the aim of this blog is simply to share my story. A perspective on a slightly unusual life that otherwise wouldn’t have been heard. Why am I doing this publicly? Because I know from first-hand experience (by living life!) that things can be tough and stressful in general, and we (as people) tend to get through the rough patches by talking to each other. But there are some things that are very hard for people to talk about. And if you feel you can’t talk about something, it can make everything seem so much harder. I want to show anyone out there who is a little like me (or not like me at all) that you can be happy, that you can be an amazing person, that things can work out, even if you’re a little (or a lot) different. I have learnt a lot through growing up silently queer – beautiful things and horrible things. I’d like to share some of these things with anyone that they could help.

So, in summary:

  • I’m a bit odd and I’d like to share my story with you
  • The purpose of this is to help others to understand and figure things out in their lives, so don’t hesitate to contact me if you’d like to chat about something I’ve brought up.

Specific topics that I’d like to cover include:

  • sexuality
  • gender identity
  • perceptions, assumptions and labelling people
  • different forms of intelligence
  • mental health and mental illness
  • physical illness and death
  • substance use and abuse
  • different kinds of relationships
  • sprituality and a higher purpose
  • general happiness and wellbeing

And that’s the end of my first post!