Categories, labels; the world is obsessed with them.
For some incomprehensible reason, we think everything needs one, that everything can be lumped into a category. We naively try to fit our personalities, our appearances, things unique to us, into boxes marked with a specific label. We try to box everything away, keeping things unnaturally orderly, ignoring our own diversity.
We cannot all fit in within selected characteristics. So, many of us find we have a foot in one box and a second in another. We are stretched past our limits, limbs pulled in opposite directions, never finding a place where we can perfectly fit. We wonder aimlessly through these boxes, which have been lined up to create a maze. Lost and alone, we see people content within their boxes, their cliques. And we can’t help but think to ourselves we are the only isolated ones. This is because we can’t see our friends walking just as aimlessly behind the walls of boxes, hidden from view.
Unfortunately, we live in a society where these boxes have become a necessity. As without the safety of the boxes to protect us, we are easy victims of the fog that meanders through the maze. The fog that carries the depression, the disease of self-doubt that depreciates our self-worth.
This boxing system, sorting system, clearly isn’t working though. Life isn’t a J K Rowling novel; a magic hat isn’t going to just assign us to a category, hand us a label on the first day. Because the thing is, we cannot be labelled. We cannot be categorised and boxed away. Kinsey was the first man to see it, to write it down, when he placed our sexuality on a spectrum. He showed the world that we are a lot more complex than we are let believe. In truth, we all belong on a spectrum, a continuum. It caters for all our needs. Keeps us close together so we can merge as one. We are all a little bit different but all a little bit the same. United by our differences we can never be left outside any walls, metaphorical or otherwise.