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I know this seems like a normal typing session, but it isn’t. This is almost like a way to get all the emotions out of my head and onto the paper. I mean why else would I come up with a weird title. Some might theories that I am writing a book, and this very well might become a book, others will say that I’m just a weird kid with too big of dreams to actually do anything with. Well for right now I’m just a normal kid trying to make my way in these straight world.Why am I weird you ask? Well the answer is very simple, I am an Androgynous Pansexual with the body of a teenage girl, and the energy/personality of a five year old little boy… Weird combination I know. Don’t worry all will become clear as I go on.I love people. Always have and always will, but sometimes people don’t love me. I guess it’s fine that not everyone loves, as fine as drowning maybe. I am a very big people pleasure and to have people that hate me for being Gay or Androgynous or Christian is tough (and you thought the last combo was confusing)!That’s right, I am a Gay Christian. Oh no the worlds gonna end! A Gay child and a Jesus Freak! Mind. Blown. Somedays I just don’t know what to do with myself. I’m constantly told not to be “part of the world” but am I really part of the world if being Gay is bad and if Christianity is spit on by posers? (I think I might get mauled if this ever becomes a book… Might have to make an alias). It’s hard enough that I can’t tell my family, now I’m talking to a fake audience and a computer screen.That’s it… I’ve finally lost my mind… It took 18 years on this spinning ball (or flat, which ever you believe) planted we call Earth to finally lose all my marbles. I guess I can except that I’m crazy but will you?It has just occurred to me that I haven’t formally introduced myself yet. I’m McCoytotheMax (haha the whole alias thing) but you can just call me Max. I will disclose the information that I am female and identify as female but I like the clothes and the act of dressing like a man.To be fair though it’s not my fault. I have wide shoulders for a girl and long legs. Womens clothing isn’t really made for a body like mine. I have abnormally long appendages and no curves. I’m just built like a boy and I can’t help it. Besides the boys have the best clothing with all the nerd shirts, button ups, cargo pants, and vests. Oh man do I love to dress in a nice button up with a tie and vest. I look hot and it’s very rare that I will describe myself as hot.You might start to ask why in the world you are reading a lunatic’s ramblings, for that is what this has turned into, but I would like to think you are reading this to feel like you’re not alone. I hope you read this and think, “Hey they’re just like me” or “this book is really funny” or any other multitude of things. After all it is only the first page and I am pretty crazy.You might think that I need a better outlet then a computer and fake audience, maybe start a YouTube Channel and talk to people that actually care. The truth is that everyone's a critic and they would just put me lower in my early grave then I already have. In all honesty though, I never could wrap my head around the whole YouTube concept. Sure I’m creative and sure I like to make movies but YouTube just feels so so big for such a tiny insignificant person that I am. Just thinking of that makes me cringe. And this is coming from someone who likes attention.Personally I don’t think I’m as funny as those people or as creative. I have no idea what kind of content I would put on their anyway. Would it be something like these senseless ramblings or would it be me trying to be funny for 5 minutes (ha you thought), the only good idea I could come up with was signing different songs in ASL.For those of you that don’t know what ASL is, I will break it down nice and simple: Hand Speak for the Deaf. Blegh I hated just typing that. ASL stands for American Sign Language, and yes it is a real language, and no it’s not english.Whhhhat? Not English?! But it’s American! I knooow! Isn’t that hard to imagine? A Language for a group of people that are in the same boat? Who would have guessed? (Me? Sarcastic? Nope don’t see it). It’s not that hard to understand that a group of people would want their own language because English is hard to learn. You can’t tell me that you native English speakers speak it perfectly and know every little detail of it. Cos right now I can tell you that most people don’t know everything about english. It’s impossible.And yes I want to major in ASL English Interpreting. Yes it is in fact a Major that I can earn from 4 years of hard study and lots of practice. Another mind blow to everyone just learning about ASL. ASL is not only a hobby, it’s a passion and everything about it intrigues me. I love the beauty and the color and the liveliness of it. I feel that ASL is almost a gateway to the soul, yet so few know about it and even fewer wish to pursue a career in it.After all the mind blows and the small amount of things you know about me, I have no idea why you are still reading. I feel like I’m pretty annoying and the longer you read, the more bubbly I get. I don’t think I should get all happy over people reading this garbage but here we are. She’s still typing randomness. I don’t know when she will stop but it probably won’t be soon.I have a disease often described as Word Vomit. I keep talking till I don’t have anything to talk about. If I stop talking that probably means it’s the end of the world and you all should run and hide because I haven’t stopped talking for my entire life. Of course there are exceptions to the rule such as when I’m stuffing my face or curled into a burrito for bed, or when someone else is talking. I don’t want to be thhaaaat rude.If you have something to add to a conversation then I will stop long enough for you to finish what you’re saying then build off of that, because that’s what makes a conversation. But in this instance no one is talking back, or if you are I can’t hear you because this is a fake audience within my computer screen. Besides the only reason I created this crazy document was because I needed something that I could pore my heart and soul into and wouldn’t come back to haunt me, unless of course later in life I decide to turn this good for nothing trash into a book, which I highly doubt.By now you are probably wondering why I need an electronic device to contain all of my feelings. The simple fact is that I don’t have a life and prefer not to see a therapist. I already know I’m crazy and would prefer not to get the official doctors diagnoses. Enough people tell that to me so it must be true. I would like to explain the title a little bit if that at all seems confusing, because by now you should have figured out that I am confusion incarnate. I decided to name it Gay Hearts and Straight Stereotypes because first of, Clickbait am I right, and second I am super Gay and my world is surrounded by straight people. I constantly have to pretend to be straight when clearly I am a hot mess… this much I’m sure you have expertly deduced….Have you ever pretended to be something that your not for what feels like a lifetime? It’s exhausting. I don’t even know if I’m doing it right. My guess is yes for now because my mom hasn’t come up to me and asked if I like girls or not… that would be a super weird conversation. Especially because it is the worse case scenario in my household. Like my family would rather hear that I had a life threatening disease then hear that I am Pan and like boobs. Who’s parents want to hear that from their kid? It’s a weird concept to wrap your mind around. Even I didn’t believe I was gay until I couldn’t deny it any longer.That’s right. I haven’t known all my life that I’m gay. I always thought that the things I did were “normal girl things to do”. Which, clearly, isn’t what a normal straight girl would do… I thought that flirting with literally everyone was what you did. And I’m not just talking girls and boys. I’m taking everyone. One time I flirted with a Trans-Male who was super gay on a complete accident. I didn’t even realize that I was doing it until later! That’s bad guys, really really bad.But I guess every story has a beginning and an end so I guess we should start with the beginning. I mean that is the proper thing to do when you tell a story. I could go backwards but that wouldn’t make any sense to anyone, even myself. If something doesn’t make sense to yourself that’s when you know you screwed up… and I have… a lot… on a lot of things. I’m sure glad that nobody’s perfect because man that standard of perfection is just too high.Back to the main topic: the beginning. I don’t know when it all started but I will assume birth, every great hero (am I supposed to be the hero in this story?) had parents or some way that they were brought into the world. So ya I was born to my family and they loved me but then my terrible twos struck like a storm and I’ve been a hot mess since then. This was how bad my terrible twos were; to calm me down my dad had to pin my arms to my sides and rock me until I realized that there was someone there that could help me calm down my multitude of emotions.I think that’s my biggest problem: I have too much emotion. I constantly have some feelings. I can’t just feel nothing. When I watch a sad movie or show (Like the anime Your Lie in April)(Damn I'm such a nerd) I just can’t stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. Same for books. I get attached to book characters. You hear that? BOOK CHARACTERS!! I will feel connected to a person that’s not real! If they die and they were a good character then prepare for waterworks cos there’s no stopping them. I am a hopeless mess and no one can fix it. I’m a disaster and no matter how much cleaning you do to get rid of it the worse it becomes.What is that meme? Lord help me cos I’m back to my old shit? Well that definitely applies to my life. I am ditsy as all hell and accident prone. And when I say accident prone I don’t just mean falling or tripping over nothing, I mean stuff like falling out of a second story window when I was 3, or breaking my arm jumping off the arm of the couch weeks later. That’s my kind of accidents. This is why I’m not allowed to go to nice places or have nice things. It probably also explains why I’m crazy. Maybe I've hit my head too many times or something...I would like to continue by saying that I haven't had a diagnosed concussion but I think the head trauma is starting to add up. You wanna know how many braces I have? I have 3 wrist braces, one knee brace, and several different types of compression socks that I have used to treat light ankle sprains... See? Hot Mess. I wish I could say that I'm sorry but my band teacher (Why am I such a dork?!) says that you should only say sorry when you mean it and won't do whatever it was you were doing again, but I'm afraid I can't stop being an accident prone, emotional wreck, total nerd, gay hot mess.I guess the polite thing to do would to be to continue the story so I will do my best not to get off topic again (I'm such a liar. I'm super easily distracted and it's not good). I have moved several times. Not as many as my best friend but still a lot. My family is not a military family but so might think that from the amount of times I've moved. I have moved every four years since 2008. Funny enough though I've only lived in two states, Washington and Idaho. I have attended 8 different schools, soon to be 9 because your girl is university bound!My dad used to work for a large grocery story company. In order to move up in the chain of command he had to move around. My dad would often work night shift too, so he was always asleep in the day and wasn't really around for my early years. When he finally got to manager he would work long hours and wouldn't get home till late in the evening. So it was a lose lose situation. While my dad was busy working, I was busy trying to fit in at all the different schools. I couldn't really get a feel for myself because everyone was telling me what I had to be how I should fit in to society. When I moved to the most recent place I live (Haha oh the secrets. first the alias and now this.) I finally had a chance to explore myself. I met my best friend Yeti (yet another alias, mwhahahaha) they gave me a place that was safe for me to open up and look inside.I mean she knew that I was gay before I did. They have the best freaking Gaydar that I have ever seen. I'm a little jealous of it to be honest. They can look across the room and tell me who's gay or not. Well when I first met Yeti I instantly took a liking to them. They were the same as that perfect imaginary friend we all have, but in real life. It was sear luck that they found me cos I have terrible luck. Not as bad as my dad and his Wil Wheaton Dice Curse but pretty close. Anyway this person was like the best person in the world and I could not ask for a better person to help me figure my shit out.Why they would do that, I have no idea but to this day we are joined at the hip. They are also super Gay. Like I'm pretty sure that when they were born, they were born with a pride flag. I love them so much that it's not even funny. I constantly flirt with them, because damn their are super hot and sweet and basically the best person ever. They came out to me cos I flirted them into a corner on a complete accident. My brain was like ya flirting with girls is a normal girl thing to do (I know nothing about being a girl...). It was really funny and super sweet. They wrote me a love letter. Not just any normal high school letter, no this was a legit (yes I did just say legit, shoot me) love letter. It was three pages long and very detailed. THREE PAGES! I still have said letter and will read it on occasion.After receiving the letter I was so confused because I didn't know how to react. All my life my family told me that I was straight and that being gay was wrong, but the feelings I felt for this person where not straight feelings. I was told by someone that I wasn't gay and never was so after that I shoved everything into the back of my head and convinced myself that I wasn't gay... look how well that turned out.One night much later after the love letter I was talking with Yeti and confessed that I didn't feel right about myself. I felt wrong in my own skin and I didn't know why. I was so tired of pretending to be that "perfect christian girl" that everyone saw me as. It made me feel sick to think that I was just some puppet without my own uniquenesses. Yeti brought up the idea that maybe I wasn't straight. Internally my gay heart was screaming that they were right, but externally I was like "psshhhh nah that ain't me." But as I fell asleep I couldn't think stop thinking about what they had said.I did research on the LGBTQ Community (ha noob) until I found out what I truly was. It was so freeing to learn that I wasn't what everyone told me I was. Yeti walked me through discovering myself as I took my baby steps into the world that is fabulously gay. I can't thank them enough for all the support they showed me, and are still showing me. All the people in my life that know I'm gay are so supportive. My lovely significant other has been there when I feel down or bad about myself. As well as countless others. Don't worry this is just the beginning of a large story that will continue from here.Just when you thought that it was over this crazy person is still going. I don't want anyone to think that I represent all the people in a closeted situation, because I know my story is not the worst thing that could happen to a person. Everyone is different and have different story. No one lives the same life and even though I have sadness, there will be people that will tell me that my pain and feelings aren't valid because there are others outside of my small world that go through so much more. I want to tell all those people that my pain is valid and they can fuck off. Everyone deals with things differently and react to different situations differently. Till next time, if you still are reading.