The idea of trumpeting to the world that “Whoo-hoo, I’m a _____” (gay, transgendered, bisexual, atheist, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, non-religious, snake-handler, Ford-hater, Chevy-lover, hip-hop aficionado, disco-sucks-guy, Steelers fan, Notre Dame hater, an artist, a writer, a composer, and so on, and so on, and so on) seems to me to be largely a function of undergrads leaving their parents’ home and finally being able to state who they believe themselves to be without their parents’ approval or disapproval.
Is that what’s happening here?
I called myself many things when I was younger, but I grew out of it as I got older and escaped my parents’ world. Simple, easy, labels no longer define me; and frankly, they never suitably did. Now, I simply am, and no matter what I’ve been called (asshole, great guy, scholar, loser, fuckup, superstar, and so many others), I don’t give a hang. I know who I am, and I’m happy being me.
Maybe, Silver Tyger, you should just be you, and ignore the labels.