Sexuality has been a vice that pulled and twisted my identity, as society tried to fit me into heteronormative boxes. I have both feminine qualities and masculine tendencies, which didn't conform to the expected norms. I vividly recall as a child being asked, "What type of woman do you like?"—not a person, but specifically a woman. My response was about seeking someone who would love me for who I am, engage in deep intellectual conversations, and share mutual trust. However, my answer was met with some form of backlash, with them clarifying that they meant a specific body type. It was in that moment that I first recognized a hint of asexuality within me. Yet, I tried to bury it in order to please society, my family, and protect my own sanity.

Asexuality goes against the societal norm of hook-up culture, the idea of getting intoxicated and indulging in eroticism. Instead, I prefer to cherish deep emotional connections and meaningful relationships, devoid of carnal desires. This often leads to confusion and assumptions of queerness. And yes, I am queer. To be queer is to be seen as different, to be labeled as "other." Within my asexuality, I have discovered a disconnection from the traditional notions of heterosexuality. It was once seen as a weakness during my upbringing, but as I continue to understand myself better, I have learned that it doesn't matter who you love; what truly matters is how you love.

I am Latinx, and I proudly identify as Latinx rather than Latino or Latina. Throughout my family life cycle, I have been exposed to a masculine machismo patriarchal ideology. It perpetuates the belief that men should be the breadwinners, while women are expected to cook, clean the house, and ultimately be submissive. This toxic mindset not only affects women, but it also shapes the experiences of men within Latinx culture.

Our women are indoctrinated with Marianismo, a concept of self-sacrifice and being the emotional support system within the household. The men in my family found my queerness to be distasteful, and they struggled to comprehend my individuality. They spent a significant amount of time questioning my sexuality. During my youth, I identified more with femininity, and I always felt that my true self was somehow wrong. However, over time, I have learned to love every part of myself. I have become comfortable and at peace in my own skin.

I'm not here to tell you that you should be non-binary or that you should step outside your assigned gender. There is comfort in staying within the gender you were assigned at birth, and there are indeed advantages to being a man or a woman. But then there's me, someone who thrives on both masculine and feminine energies that surround them. I don't have a preference for specific pronouns; I believe in the use of all pronouns if they are used with love.

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, and there should be mutual respect between people. I take pride in being non-binary and extend my love to all who welcome it. I approach others with trust and mutual respect, because ultimately, what I think doesn't matter. Love whomever you choose to love and identify however you feel most comfortable. That's what matters to me, my friend.

During seventh grade, they came out as "gay" on Halloween to a random person before telling their friends. Revealing this truth caused some people to stop interacting with them, but those who loved them for who they were stayed by their side. Life was challenging, growing up as the only queer person until they moved away.

In the summer before their freshman year, at an acting camp, they had their own experience. Surprisingly, the only available role was a female one. This was their first foray into drag, where they discovered the beauty of shaping and embodying a character. They wanted to authentically portray their story and refused to let anyone alter their self-perception.

Suppressing these emotions throughout high school was difficult for Jacob. They could sense something inside them, and once they left for the city, they started being called "Gaycob" to differentiate from other Jacobs. Eventually, they were simply called "Gay" because it was easier than using both syllables. This made Jacob realize that being the best friends of heterosexuals was detrimental to their mental health.

By the age of 21, they found other queer communities that embraced and empowered them for who they are. There were internalized emotions to confront and newfound freedom of expression, which initially felt intimidating. These people knew their true selves, while Jacob was still discovering it through experimentation.

Learning more about Jacob's past and the challenges they faced is a testament to the struggles endured by queer individuals who don't fit the mold especially during their formative years. Support can be scarce or non-existent. However, despite patriarchal obstacles, queer individuals will find their chosen family and uplift each other, regardless of their backgrounds or the misconceptions developed by those too ignorant to understand with love. But love always wins and for that, I am forever thankful.

As a young queer boy who loved and embraced all walks of life, I often found myself in the spotlight within the church community. People would pray over me and seek to remove the so-called "homosexual demon" that they believed was embedded within me, attributing it to generational and demonic influences. These experiences always made me feel uncomfortable. Due to my asexuality, I was labeled as "gay" and put in that category. For the longest time, being called "gay" would trigger or frustrate me because I never identified solely as a homosexual; I simply loved people in all their diversity.

I was constantly berated and reminded that "God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve." This default assumption of homosexuality confused and frustrated me. I recall desperately getting on my knees, attempting to conform to the idea that a man should love a woman. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. I spent three days out of each week trying to erase myself and fit into this patriarchal standard. Eventually, I broke free from this cycle and learned to love myself. If there is a God, I am confident that He wouldn't care about who I love or how I love, as long as I spread kindness and love to others.