Or anything, really.

When I was younger, I couldn't do anything half-heartedly. I realised I identified with goth subculture; suddenly, all of my clothes were black. I was very serious about my Christian faith, so I didn't introduce myself as a Christian; I introduced myself as a born again Christian.When I went to uni, I loved it, so I turned myself into a model student; I was on the council, I wore every bit of branded university clothing I could lay my hands on and I only wanted to hang around with people who were associated with the place, because it felt so me, and that was wonderful.

I was finding things I identified with and liked, and building my entire identity around them.

Which is fine. And very, very normal when you're growing up, and figuring out who you are. You see an identity that looks like it fits, and you jump headfirst into it, thinking, "Yes, this is who I am! I found it!"

The thing was for me, that taking these things to the extreme didn't end up being me. I wasn't the Gothiest Goth that ever Gothed; I'm far more into Taylor Swift. I just liked the outfits and the eyeliner. I tried to be the strictest, most holy Christian I could be and damaged my life a lot in the process. Having morals when it came to sex was a healthy thing for me, but beating myself up whenever I hugged a guy chest to chest wasn't so much. And I genuinely did love university life at first, but when my mental health took a turn, suddenly it didn't feel like home anymore.

Whenever one identity didn't fit perfectly, I'd just find another one. And when that didn't fit perfectly, I found another one. I was trying to figure out who I was, and I wasn't doing very well.

And then I realised something; I am not a caricature. All of these things were me, or had been me, to an extent. I was a little bit of something, and a little bit of something else. My identity was far more complicated than I realised; who I am is messy, complex and sometimes a tad ironic, but that's ok, because it's true and it's me.

When I was first introduced to the world of BDSM as an adult, my whole world changed. I understood things about myself I hadn't before, I found outlets for appetites that I didn't even have names for. This world became a big part of my identity very quickly, and I am ridiculously happy about that. I love you perverts. I never want to leave you!

That said, I suspect if I'd discovered the fetish scene at a different point in my life, I would have taken it to an extreme where it stopped being something I enjoyed. I would have sought out the most formal, 24/7 M/s relationship I could find, and looked down on anyone who "only" identified as a submissive rather than a slave. I would have wrongly and harshly judged new people who were just dipping their toes in. I would have considered people who only liked to do BDSM activities in the bedroom as lesser.

Which would have been fucking wrong of me. And really, really shitty. Because there's nothing wrong with being a different type of pervert than I am. And there's nothing wrong with only being a pervert sometimes, or with certain people, or in certain environments.

I can enjoy an event, but not attend every one. I can enjoy giving control away in some situations, and enjoy taking it in others. I'm a masochist, but not nearly as much as a lot of you. I can identify as  a submissive, but have the odd Domme fantasy. I can enjoy a formal dynamic sometimes, and a casual dynamic the rest of the time. And that's fucking fine. I'm being me.

What I'm going round the houses trying to say, is let's just be ourselves. Let's not judge other people for not being as "hardcore" as us, or being a different type of kinky than us. The only thing I want to judge people for is trying to be something they're not. And even then, I'll try not to, because seriously, I don't know what's going on in their heads.

Less doesn't have to be lesser, and more isn't necessarily better.

I'm just going to be myself. That's far more interesting.