List of gender identities (A–Z)

A gender with nothing masculine or feminine in it: not between them, not a mix, and not necessarily an absence either.

A gender that moves with your surroundings — the room changes, and so does what you are in it.

The most accurate answer to "what's your gender" isn't a word — it's a colour, a texture, a particular quality of light.

Agender is having no gender at all: not a blend of two, not a quieter version of one, just nothing where other people report something — though some describe that nothing as neutral rather than empty.

Genderfae with an agender floor: your gender moves, never towards man, and most of the time nothing is there at all.

Mostly nothing, sometimes something — and the something is never a woman.

Fluid, with a floor of nothing: other genders come and go, and you always drift back to agender.

Nothing, most of the time — with a dial that drifts up and then back down again.

Not a mix of the two.

Two genders at once, held steady — not taking turns, not blending into one.

A man and a woman and neither one, all at the same time — one gender, not two taking turns.

Both, not neither — a gender that runs masculine and feminine at the same time, in one person, and does not put either one down.

Not a gender that went missing — a concept that never reached you in the first place.

A gender you feel clearly and specifically — it just isn't male, female, a blend of the two, or the space in between.

A Tamil word for the hijra-community people of Tamil Nadu, tied to the god Aravan — and one many now set aside for thirunangai.

A xenogender that feels bright and celestial.

A gender that space describes better than man, woman or neither — not one star, the whole dark field of them.

A gender that moves with the sky: masculine, feminine or neither depending on what is overhead, on an astronomical clock rather than a mood.

A gender you can only really explain through sound — or one that shifts shape the more you hear it named.

Two settings on one switch: agender at one end, another gender at the other, and never both at once.

A Filipino word for someone born male who carries a feminine loob and is usually drawn to men — one word holding what English insists on splitting into "gay" and "trans".

Two genders.

Two genders, and each one moves — or one gender that moves between exactly two.

A gender that sits closer to weather, soil and growing things than to man or woman — described with a word only a small number of people use.

Masculine, but not a man.

Fluid between boy, neutral, androgynous and nothing — never a girl.

How much of a boy you are changes.

A masculinity built inside queer life, by people who were not men and mostly were not trying to be.

Indifference to gender with something in motion — the gender itself, how little it matters, or both.

How much your gender matters to you goes up and down.

You are not missing a gender.

You were called a girl at birth and woman turned out to be the right word — often so quietly that you never had to check.

You were called a boy at birth, and man still fits.

The truest short answer you have to "what is your gender" is a colour, and it is not a metaphor for anything else.

A gender too vast to take in at once.

A gender that changes at random and often feels broken into pieces: several genders at once, none of them whole, no pattern to the shifts.

Gender that moves on a schedule: a set rota of genders, or, in the other definition, one that tracks a partner's shifting attraction.

A demiboy is partly a boy or a man and partly something else, and the partial bit is the point, not a stage on the way to the whole thing.

Part of your gender is bolted down and never moves.

Part of your gender holds still, and it was never a whole gender to begin with.

A partial connection to a gender — enough to be real, not enough to be the whole answer.

Demigirl means being partly a woman — a real connection to womanhood that only goes so far, with the rest being some other gender or none at all.

Part of you sits outside man and woman — clearly, steadily, and not all of you.

A gender that can only be described as you: no outside reference, no comparison, no metaphor — just yourself.

A non-binary gender that changes volume — fully there some weeks, faint others, sometimes gone to agender — without swapping station.

A centuries-old word for neither-one-nor-the-other, taken up by a small number of people as a name for a gender that can't be sorted — not a blend of two, just unreadable.

A gender, or the absence of one, that sits above the whole gender spectrum rather than anywhere on it.

Not without gender so much as out of it — a rare word, used by very few people, and even they don't agree on what it means.

A Samoan gender.

A Samoan gender.

A Tongan gender: assigned male at birth, living in the manner of a lady, inside Tongan family and church life.

A gender that's animal in some way: connected to one creature, to many, or to animals in general.

Femininity held as a queer position rather than a default — chosen, worked at, expensive, and almost never read correctly from outside.

Non-binary, and feminine at the root.

Fluid, but every stop keeps a feminine cast: girl, demigirl, a soft boy, something xenic — always with the femininity intact.

Your gender changes — and so does how much of it there is.

Fluid mostly between male and masculine genders, occasionally elsewhere — but everything you land on keeps a masculine cast.

A gender that feels cold and snowy — frost as the nearest honest description, when no human gender word gets close.

A gender that feels like what fills a galaxy — planets, moons, black holes, the lot — with a masculine and a feminine version on offer.

You may well have a gender.

Your gender moves.

Your gender moves.

Your gender moves.

A gender that opens and goes dormant with the conditions around you — light, season, weather, room — rather than holding still or swinging between man and woman.

Genderfluid means the gender underneath changes over time, so man, woman, both, neither, or something with no name at all can each be accurate depending on the day.

Your gender doesn't swap stations.

Having no gender, said as plainly as English allows.

A neutral gender: not a man, not a woman, not a mix, not a midpoint.

Gender you refuse to make easy for people.

A gender that does not resolve into man or woman, where the refusal to resolve is part of the point rather than a gap waiting to be filled.

Gender as an empty space you can feel the edges of — not neutral, not undecided, not filled in later.

Pulled towards a gender you cannot confirm is yours.

Fluid between girl, neutral, androgynous and genderless — never male — and anchored to being a girl rather than to femininity.

The girl part rises and falls.

A gender that's there, but faint — and a matching lack of urge to do anything about it.

A South Asian community, kinship system and gender role you are taken into by a guru and a house — not a word you can pick up for how you feel.

A colour gender that will not hold one colour: any hue, any shade, changing as it likes.

Indigenous and queer, in Indigenous ways: a Native word for gender or desire outside colonial boxes, built as an alternative to Two-Spirit.

A gender that sits between man and woman rather than outside them — and a word much of the intersex community says belongs to intersex people alone.

Devotees of the goddess Yellamma in south India, assigned male and living in feminine dress: a role you're dedicated into, not a label.

A gender that sits beside female instead of within it — near enough that "woman" is the closest word, far enough that it's the wrong one.

An old Thai word for people born male who live as women, or somewhere alongside them.

Pakistan's own word for its third-gender community — respectful, precolonial, and belonging to the people who carry it.

Your gender is tangled up with your kintype — pull one out and the other comes with it.

Mostly without gender, with one small thread of something that never quite lets go.

Your gender moves in a cycle — the same phases, in the same order, coming round again.

A Hawaiian and Tahitian word for a person in the middle — between kāne and wahine — and a position in the community that came with work attached.

There is definitely a gender there.

All the genders available to you.

More than one gender.

A third gender inside Zapotec life on the Isthmus of Tehuantepec: assigned male at birth, raised into a role the town already has a word, a fiesta and a set of obligations for.

MVPFAFF is a Pacific acronym — māhū, vakasalewalewa, palopa, fa'afafine, akava'ine, fakaleitī, fakafifine.

A neutral gender — not a man, not a woman, and not a mix of the two.

Non-binary is the umbrella word for a gender that isn't man or woman: both, neither, partly, or something those two words don't reach.

Your gender is there, it is specific, and no word that currently exists carries it — so you stopped waiting for one to arrive.

Not a gender you can't name — a blank where the value would go, and nothing aching to fill it.

All the genders at once, carried as one thing.

Your gender isn't one thing, and it isn't nothing — it's several at once, and the plural is the whole point.

Mostly one gender, permanently short of all of it — standing beside a gender rather than inside it.

Mostly a girl or a woman, and not entirely.

Several genders, and fluid between them: often more than one at a time, and which ones keeps changing.

More than one gender — not one complicated gender, but several, sometimes at once, sometimes taking turns.

A gender that's definitely there and won't go into words — not for lack of trying, but because none of the available words are the right shape.

A gender you no longer have, that still shaped who you are.

Boyish, but not a boy.

You don't know yet — and the not-knowing stopped being a passing thought a while ago and became somewhere you live.

Not "my gender is none" — "I can't find what that question is pointing at."

A Tahitian word for transfeminine people who live openly as women.

A Sakalava word from Madagascar for someone assigned male at birth who was recognised as a girl in early childhood, raised as one, and lives as a woman — a word that belongs to that community and is not open to outsiders.

Snowgender is the winter stop of quagender — a gender that arrives with the cold and leaves with it.

A gender that feels like space: void-like and never-ending, full and empty at the same time.

A gender that is a star, or is like one: burning, far off, and there whether or not anyone is looking up.

A gender the word "star" describes better than "man", "woman" or "neither" — burning, distant, and there whether or not anyone is looking up.

Mostly agender, around three-quarters, with the rest another gender that never quite goes.

Your gender isn't partial and it isn't missing.

Two genders and a switch between them — abrupt, complete, nothing in between.

A Māori word — once for a devoted same-sex companion, now an umbrella for Māori who are queer or gender-diverse.

A category applied from outside — by anthropology and by law — to genders neither man nor woman.

Tamil Nadu's own word for a trans woman — "respected woman" — chosen by the community to replace older, harsher names.

You're trans, and the place you're heading is the middle — held on purpose, not passed through on the way to somewhere else.

You are facing towards the feminine.

Trans, and fluid: your gender moved away from what you were assigned, and it keeps moving.

A woman who was assigned male at birth — which is the whole definition, and almost none of the experience.

You were assigned female at birth and you are a man — not as a hope or a performance, but as the plain fact you keep having to explain to people.

Raised as a girl, headed masculine — and "man" is an option, not a requirement.

Trans, and heading for neutral: away from the gender you were assigned, not towards the other one.

A Filipino trans woman: a word made by Filipino trans women to say 'woman', where bakla says something else.

A Latin American gender in its own right — assigned male, living feminine, and often refusing "woman" on purpose.

Three genders.

An Indigenous North American word for gender that arrives bundled with community, ceremony and a job to do — and it belongs to Native people only.

Not outside the binary — against it.

Ungender is genderless with a push: not just no gender, but the polar opposite of the whole idea of gender.

Practically or partly agender because holding a gender is too stressful to keep up.

A gender your voice doesn't describe — it's the thing your gender is made of.

An Indonesian word for people born male who live as women or femininely.

Non-binary and xenogender at the same time, and unwilling to drop either word.

Genderfluid, and the places it moves between are mostly xenogenders: colour, weather, sound, creature.

A gender that makes complete sense to you, described with words that have nothing to do with man or woman.