Mapping Who We Are
Who am I? It’s a question that’s fascinated philosophers for centuries — but here, I’m asking it differently: Who are you, in the sense of identity?
Identity isn’t a single statement or a static label. It’s a living map — shaped by biology, culture, language, relationships, and time. We’re not puzzles to solve; we’re landscapes to explore. And, like any map, understanding who we are means looking at the terrain from several angles: gender identity, gender expression, sex assigned at birth, attraction, and relationships.
Each one tells part of the story — but none stand alone. They overlap, influence, and sometimes contradict each other. Together, they create the topography of self.
To make this clearer, I’ll use small “I am” markers along the way. They’re just examples, not answers — because what fits me may not fit you.
Gender Identity — Who You Know Yourself to Be
Gender identity is the internal compass — the quiet this is me that sits beneath language or appearance. It’s who you know yourself to be, not what’s written on a form or inferred by others.
For some, that sense of self aligns with the gender they were assigned at birth; for others, it doesn’t. Either way, it’s deeply personal. And because language keeps evolving — words like non-binary, agender, genderfluid — there’s space for everyone to locate themselves more accurately.
I know myself as male — comfortably so — but I’ve learned that the knowing isn’t about what anyone else sees, it’s about what feels settled inside.
You can read more about this in Gender Identity — Who You Know Yourself to Be, which explores how identity forms, shifts, and finds expression over time.
Gender Expression — How You Show the World
If identity is the compass, expression is the map others get to read. It’s how your clothes, movement, tone, or style communicate the person you are — intentionally or not.
Gender expression lives on the surface, but it’s not superficial. It’s the visible language of self-presentation — how inner reality meets social context. What reads as “feminine,” “masculine,” or “androgynous” depends on culture, era, and safety.
I tend to lean toward masculine presentation — shaved head, beard, neutral clothes — partly because it feels balanced. Still, even with the beard, I get called cute, which says a lot about how expression is a two-way translation.
The linked piece Gender Expression — How You Show Up in the World explores this dialogue between how we present and how we’re perceived — and why neither side has the full story.
Pronouns — The Language Between Identity and Expression
Pronouns are how we talk about each other, but they’re really about how we listen. For many people, pronouns are just grammar. For others, they’re shorthand for recognition — a way of saying, I see you the way you see yourself.
Pronouns sit in that space between gender identity and expression, translating inner truth into shared language. They’re not about correctness, but connection. Getting them right isn’t perfection — it’s care.
I use he/him/his — but you’ll also find me referred to as she/her within the confines of gay culture. That’s part of the dialect I move through; it’s affectionate shorthand, not identity. In queer spaces, pronouns can carry playfulness, solidarity, or ease — a reminder that language has texture, and sometimes that texture says more about belonging than biology.
For some, pronouns are fixed and feel like home. For others, they shift with time, context, or comfort. What matters isn’t memorising every variation, but being open enough to ask, listen, and adapt.
The companion article, Pronouns — The Language Between Identity and Expression, explores how pronouns bridge self and visibility, helping language evolve alongside identity.
Sex Assigned at Birth — When Biology Meets Bureaucracy
Every map starts with a label, and most of ours begin in a delivery room. Someone looks, makes a call, and writes it down: male or female. That moment creates an administrative identity that can follow us for life.
But sex assigned at birth isn’t biology — it’s bureaucracy. It’s a shorthand based on visible anatomy, not the full complexity of chromosomes, hormones, or internal structures. For many, the label fits well enough. For others, it’s a misalignment that takes years to unpick.
My paperwork says male — and for me, that matches — but I’m aware that it’s just one line on a certificate, not the whole truth of a body or life.
The deeper exploration in Sex Assigned at Birth — When Biology Meets Bureaucracy looks at intersex realities, chromosomal variation, and the quiet fact that nature has always resisted tidy boxes.
Attraction — Physical, Emotional, and Everything In-Between
Attraction is how identity reaches outward — the magnetic pull toward people, energy, or ideas. It’s rarely simple. Sometimes it’s instant, sometimes it grows with trust. It can be physical, emotional, intellectual, or spiritual — and for many, it moves across those boundaries over time.
Labels like gay, straight, bi, pan, or ace are useful shorthand, but they’re still shorthand. They give us shared language, but not the full landscape.
For me, attraction begins in conversation. I’m a gay man, but also a sapiosexual — drawn more to mind and connection than appearance. That spark of curiosity is what holds me, long after looks fade.
The article Attraction — Physical, Emotional, and Everything In-Between unpacks how attraction shifts, why safety shapes desire, and how curiosity itself can be a form of intimacy.
Relationships — The Architecture of Connection
If attraction is the spark, relationships are what we build from it. They’re the structures we design to hold connection — sometimes monogamous, sometimes open, sometimes chosen family or solo independence. The model matters less than the integrity: communication, consent, and care.
Relationships aren’t moral hierarchies. They’re creative architecture — frameworks built from shared need and respect.
I value depth and independence in equal measure. It means I build connections slowly, but solidly — less about ownership, more about mutual space.
The companion piece Relationship Types — The Architecture of Connection explores the many ways people build love and belonging, drawing on the BACP’s approach to Gender, Sexual, and Relationship Diversity.
The Map Itself
Put all these elements together — identity, expression, biology, attraction, and relationships — and you start to see the full terrain. Each layer adds dimension to the others. Your gender identity may shape how you express yourself; your attraction may influence how you form relationships; your body and history might frame how safe it feels to explore.
Where Therapy Fits
Therapy doesn’t hand you a map — it helps you learn how to read your own. It’s a space to notice patterns, unpack expectations, and name what feels true without fear of judgement. Whether you’re questioning, rediscovering, or just trying to make sense of how all these layers meet, therapy offers containment for the process.
Sometimes that means unpicking shame or confusion inherited from culture or family. Other times, it’s simply about curiosity — asking what parts of you have been waiting to be seen. The aim isn’t to fix identity, but to understand it, and maybe to give it room to breathe.
There’s no single route across this map. Some parts stay constant, others evolve. You might find new landmarks with age or experience. The goal isn’t to arrive; it’s to keep exploring with curiosity and compassion.
Identity isn’t a fixed address — it’s a journey through changing landscapes. And wherever you are on your own map right now, that’s exactly where you’re meant to be.
We fight so hard to define who we are — but once we’re secure in ourselves, it stops mattering.
There’s nothing left to prove when you already know who you are.

