CW: Gender themes, pronouns, revelations, self-loathing, suicidal thoughts, dysphoria, dysmorphia, mental health struggles.

This is a coming out of sorts, I suppose, and an acknowledgement of something I've really known all my life. TL;DR: Hi, I'm Karyx/Kaeryx/Ryx/ and I'm... Confused & Genderqueer. For now, at least, I'd like you to use They/Them pronouns.

I was in my pre-teens when I first tried on a skirt. Mum had a long, grey denim-print skirt & I was curious what it felt like. I tried it on one day while everyone was out. It felt good. I think I might've done it a few more times but I don't really remember. When puberty started for me, it didn't take long for me to figure out that I really liked things inside me. I spent a lot of time in the shed with a screwdriver clamped into a Black & Decker Workmate & a picture I'd kept of Brandon Call from Baywatch. I was an inventive kid. I figured out I was probably gay, but I kept it firmly to myself. The bullies at school had more than enough ammunition as it was; I was the fat, weird, sensitive, bookish kid with braces, glasses & a penchant for bursting into tears at the smallest thing. Not much really changes there. I liked girls, sure, but not with the same sort of intensity. I had crushes on a few at school, but it's the boys I remember. There was a kid in the year below me that had the most kissable lips, and there was Sam. He was blonde and had a swimmer's physique & long hair (as much as the school would allow). My first kiss was an unexpected, drunken one from my best (and probably only) friend at school, Alastair. Anyway, I digress.

The fat, weird, sensitive, bookish kid with braces & glasses became a fat, sensitive, bookish teenage goth. I wore black, I got a biker jacket, I was in denial. My home life had always been abusive, and the old man told me once that "if [he] found out I was gay, he'd fucking murder [me]". I was lonely, sad & hated myself. Not much has changed there either. I worked in the local theatre & at their request did a media-related qualification. Some of it I loved, some of it I hated. I loved journalism, I loved print, and I loved the technical work. I hated being on camera and I hated having to record my voice. Still do. I had a meltdown the first time they told me I had to be on camera for a piece. I was told I had a good eye for aesthetics then. It was also my first exposure to The Internet, and chat rooms...

I met a girl in the USA, her name was Xera. She had problems at home, I had problems at home. We were both lonely & we found comfort in one another. We got married. It lasted about 2 years. I lived in California for half of that time, and I discovered a found family in the furry community. I was still in denial. I was having rampant netsex most nights with a guy called Mojo that wanted to use my hair as reins as he fucked me, and oh god I wanted him to. I also met the first openly trans person through Xera; her name was Taylor, and fuck was she ever beautiful. She called my biker jacket "A faggot jacket" because it had fringing along the back (I saw Bruce Dickinson wearing one on an Iron Maiden album cover & just knew it's what I wanted. I was a teenage dirtbag.) I cut those fringes off because of her. I still have that jacket. Things went bad in Cali for Xera and I. No work, money was tight & we'd outstayed our welcome with her family. We came back to the UK.

I went to my first furmeet just before the turn of the millennium & met people that were properly like me for the first time in the flesh. I wore a tail, I barked and yipped and yapped and did all the things a dorky furry does. I spent a lot of time on IRC, and I met my first boyfriend. Couldn't hide behind the denial any more. I came out to my wife and my family in short order. The relationship ended badly, unsurprisingly. When I told mum, when I finally found the words to say, her response was "Took you long enough. I've known for years." Then why the fuck couldn't she have told /me/? I brought someone home after a furmeet, and I lost my virginity on the front room floor. As first experiences go, it was pretty rubbish. A two-pump chump. Anyway, this has been another huge digression. We were talking about gender.

So, as I said, I wore black, I wore collars and all the other goth attire save for the makeup (I tried it, my skin doesn't like it.) I lusted after all the androgynous guys in their various getups, and I loved the dresses & lace of the goth girl gear. I wore rave skirts & mesh tops occasionally, and I had the obligatory military drummerboy coat. Not so much Gerard Way as Gerard Wide. I bleached my hair almost white, and it almost all fell out. I still hated how I looked. Still hated myself. I put away childish things, dyed my hair black, moved to Sheffield & didn't think much more about it. I met Chloe. She gave me a job when I was at my lowest, she gave me a purpose. I went with her to GIC appointments, I saw how the system worked both privately and NHS, and got a much better appreciation for gender dysphoria and the like. I went on to take numerous people to GIC appointments over the years, and the majority of my peer group & friends either are trans or non-binary of some kind. I guess it was easier to support them than question myself maybe?

Time passes...

I see a picture. It's of a brightly coloured girl dinosaur, and this lightbulb went on. "That's me." The mental floodgates opened just a little bit & I started to think about who I really was, or at least might be. At the time, I wrote this to explain it to other people:

So, I wrote an introduction but I didn't like it. It seemed a bit glib. I want to introduce you to Kaeryx. Ryx for short (Makes it easier to tell us apart). She's the confidence I wish I had a lot of the time. I don't think she's a headmate, or an alter ego. To be honest, I don't know what she is.

I don't think I've ever talked about what I consider my gender to be before. I've thought about it off & on for a pretty long time - going back to being a teenager at least. There's always been a thread of latent curiosity about femininity in those thoughts, but nothing has ever really coalesced out of them really. In the last few months I've sort of revisited those thoughts again and I think a few things are a bit clearer than they were. This is partly down to Lyx asking me directly about it earlier, and then discussing it with Abby after.

I think there's a good possibility that mentally, most of the time, I'm female. Look at the evidence.

Caregiver? Check. Homemaker? Check.

I have little time for masculine pursuits. I'm not rough & tumble, I never have been . I'm not competitive, I'm emotional to a fault - "wears his heart on his sleeve" has been said more than once about me and I don't particularly take it as an insult. I got called a crybaby for most of my younger years. I do resent that term, but I don't think that's changed much either. I don't think there's much there that really screams "I'm a man!" is there?

The thing is, physically, for the most part I don't particularly feel female either. I'm happy enough with what I have that passes for a cock. I don't feel the need to present in any kind of feminine way. I think if I wasn't such a hideous widebody, I'd probably happily present as androgynous - it's difficult to do in plus sizes.

My sexuality is complicated too. I increasingly realise that while I am panromantic, I definitely have a stronger attachment for guys. I've sorta joked about needing to be dicked a few times, but honestly there's more than a grain of truth in it.

So what does this mean? Am I coming out? is my "egg cracking?" Nah, not really. I don't think so, at least. I have no real desire to change the status quo. I'll be the same 4 bar blues that I've always been :D It's just a side of me I've never spoken about before, and I've decided I kinda want to now.

Except... That's not true either. Not all of it. I've never been comfortable in my skin. I've never been comfortable in my clothes & I've never been comfortable being me. I look terrible in male formal clothes. I wear everything as baggy as I can to pretty much hide myself. I think I'm ugly and I hate myself really. Since June, I have lost something approaching 45kilos (6 stone) & found the baggy clothing I had was too baggy, to the point it was falling off. I got some new jeans & while I was doing it I picked up some new underwear. Boxer briefs, and a pack of red panties. When I put them on for the first time, they felt natural. Moreso than anything else I'd worn before. Not in a sexual way, just an affirming "huh." kind of way. By serendipity, I was pushed a targeted advert for a plus-size, alternative clothing store for women. I bought myself some leggings and a skirt (My legs are a mess from skin problems). Same thing. That "Huh" feeling, and a reminder of how it'd felt when I was younger. They're the first clothes I've actually enjoyed wearing & for the first time ever, I realised that I have nice legs and a pretty decent butt. I've never had a positive thought about myself before. I bought some more things, and I'm waiting for those to arrive. For the first time ever I want to wear colours, thanks to Ryx.

What does all this mean? I really don't know. I do still like my dick, but I do find my fingers wandering down & wondering. I'm very much a bottom-leaning vers kind of "guy". I don't dislike topping, but I squirm around in bed wishing there was someone on top of me more often than I'd probably admit. For now, at least, I'm going with genderfluid/genderqueer. I suspect I'll probably present as more female-forward as time goes on. I don't know.

As if my head isn't messy enough.