I find I have little use defining myself to myself. I am. I am lots of things. I have no box, and that doesn’t frighten me. If others need to fit me into a box so they can find my place in their personal classification system that helps them feel less or more at odds with the world, that’s okay. Sometimes annoying, but okay.

Sure I have a nature that I’ve discovered over time, some of which I nurture and some of which I try to rectify. But I still don’t feel that it’s a solid identity, but rather maybe a concept.