While I was reading Ben Pechey’s “Book of Non-Binary Joy”, I found that I was trying to do something absurd: I was trying to work out Ben’s gender! It took several chapters before I finally let go of this need to gender them.

I find that especially curious since I am non-binary and, in theory at least, I should be able to grasp what it means to live without a gender or a gender not-defined and constrained by the rules of the society that I live in.

It seems most people can’t rest until they’ve dropped someone into one of two boxes — MALE or FEMALE. Until that’s done, we don’t quite know how to listen to them, look at them, or even be ourselves around them.

What did it feel like for me? There was an itch, a mental itch for sure. I was definitely curious – understand that when reading there is often only one’s imagination to fill in the space where the author would be.

It actually manifested, initially, as a some kind of mental block: I couldn’t quite understand what Ben Pechey was saying without breaking that irrational need in myself to categorise them. It was almost like I was trying to translate from a foreign language into English with only a basic knowledge of the vocabulary and grammar. I’ll be clear: Ben’s use of English is accessible and they do not use rare words or complicated sentences. This was just a problem with my brain.

As part of of my non-binary identity, I enjoy fiddling at the edges of my assigned gender identity and am building up confidence to do more than tweak to express myself. Think kilts and eyeliner for me.

When asked my pronouns, I say he/they to reflect the masculine side of neutral, although I increasingly feel more neutral than masc. I am happy with either he or they (or as my mum would have said, when referred to in the third person, “who’s she? the cat’s mother?”)

So great is the binary programming that I struggle to resist the need to categorise people.

I’m saying that resisting the binary isn’t easy. It takes a little effort to do. It doesn’t hurt me any and its not even an inconvenience.

Using the correct pronouns can make somebody’s day.

As I write this, I find myself wondering what other automatic categorisations do I make without even thinking about it? I am thinking about skin colour, or headwear, or facial fuzz. I know that I do assume certain things based on certain skin tones or what somebody wears.

Its like my brain is a filing cabinet, and still insists on only two drawers marked M and F, with no folder for Miscellaneous Fabulous.