Contrarily In/Voluntary

Sivaan of Candlekeep

October 30th, 2024

Whether choice or chance, each are states of being that I became familiar with upon entering this community. At some point in my middle school years, I discovered what otherkinity is. A part of that discovery involved learning about involuntarity within this experience, or rather, how heavily stressed involuntarity is in context to this experience.

That said, times change. I am not a middle schooler anymore. I don’t even use the label otherkin since I’ve come to prefer the openness of alterhuman and transspecies, respectively. Upon returning to the community, I’ve picked up on other terms and experiences within it. I noticed the ways in which things changed, and in some cases, arguably stayed the same.

The most notable change was the acceptance towards voluntary selfhood. I’m not sure if my adolescent years fell within the period where grilling and gatekeeping were more common; nonetheless, it was a time where voluntary selfhood had been something of a taboo subject from what I remember.

I don’t recall feeling pressured into saying my identity was involuntary, as many parts of it did come about on their own. For example, choice was not a factor when I came to understand that I am a polymorphic being. Yet, there are parts of my species that I did actively incorporate or take upon for myself for reasons that felt a little more nuanced than just for fun or for aesthetics. I made some of these choices, not necessarily to cope with anything either, but to become closer to something.

One such example is my Splatlandian linktype, bringing myself closer to the video game that’s held a special place in my heart for the past couple of years. I link with a self-created Splatoon race and with the location, Splatsville and its surrounding Splatlands, respectively. This is a choice I made out of heartedness and appreciation towards Splatoon 3 (and Splatoon as a whole), rather than one that I chose to do out of fun, of aesthetics or as a coping mechanism.

At first, I felt a little awkward about otherlinking. There weren’t many species or beings that I could pull from in terms of wanting to be them. If that wasn’t already a hurdle, I didn’t have any exomemories tied to my chosen identities (unlike that of my not-chosen identities). If I did, it was likely through a related species within my polymorphism.

That’s how my Nargacuga link came to be, at least. It exists as a result of my fracture as a Monster (or “Monstie”) Rider. I do have memories here and there as a scout for my township, and the monster that I raised and rode was a Nargacuga. In memory of our friendship, I chose to be a Nargacuga out of kinship towards my “monstie”. While he was a mount in terms of duty, he was always more like a brother to me as we traveled. While I have no personal exomemories of being a Nargacuga, I do have exomemories relative to that based on my fracture as a Monster Rider.

I used to regard these experiences as “exceptions”, but in actuality, they are nuances to my being. I didn’t come to accept these nuances within myself until quite recently. I’m grateful to have returned to the community when I did since personal nuance wasn’t given as much consideration as it is now. Because of the spaces I’ve found myself in and my own introspections, I was able to flesh out my relationship with voluntary and involuntary frameworks.

In doing so, I’ve found that the space between these experiences represents me best. Rather than approach voluntariness and involuntariness like binaries, I understand them as being sides of a spectrum. While there are individuals who exclusively experience one side, that still leaves those whose experiences vary and spread all throughout these circumstances.

I first ventured into the nuances of my being when another species of mine made itself known.

A few months ago, I wrote What Lurks Beneath Shell and Scale on my being as an Aurak Draconian. This species of mine is fictionquoi, meaning it is an experience based in fictionhood that’s also quoiic in nature. When this fracture of mine came to be, I did not have a name for it. I initially waved it off as just an anthropomorphic version of my primary species (Gold Dragonne). That didn’t feel quite right, the more I sat with it. Eventually, I did my research within my source and found that this form of mine was a race established in the Dragonlance setting but canon-divergent as I was.

What perplexed me was how it came to be. I had no notable exomemories tied to this fracture unlike species I didn’t choose, yet this wasn’t a species that I actively chose to be unlike my linktypes. I did not know if this species of mine was involuntary or voluntary.

I must admit: I spiraled for a second.

How can this be?

Is it just a cameo shift?

What if I’m confused? There’s been times I’ve been wrong about a species being mine.

As fate would have it, this species was in fact one that I belonged to. Much of these concerns, I realized, came from a place of ignorance. As I look back on it, I was still treating voluntariness and involuntariness as rigidly as one would with a binary rather than a spectrum. While looking into Quoiian as a label, and quoiluntary identity as a whole, I gave myself grace. I reconsidered what meant to have an experience like this while being someone who’s *“largely involuntary” in experience.

^{* I placed quotations here because I no longer describe nor regard my experience as such.}

When coming to terms with this, I described my outlook as follows:

“While my alterhumanity is mostly involuntary, this specific identity of mine exists in its own gray area. Its presence is too abrupt for it to be a copinglink, and its connection to my lived experiences and emotions are too complex for it to be just another kintype. It was distinctly its own presence within my alterhumanity.”

“While this was a new development for me, I did not stress over how that reflected on the rest of my alterhumanity. I am still confident in the fact that most of my alterhumanity exists involuntarily, but l am equally confident in the fact that this specific identity exists outside the scope of voluntary and involuntary experience.”

I look back on this and I wince, thinking: “Oh! So close!” because I can still see hints of me trying to emphasize on something that doesn’t really define who I am. It’s not that I don’t care about these frameworks necessarily, but I find that the importance of said emphasis is purely subjective. If anything, I’m more curious on why they’d be considered significant enough for emphasis.

Alright, so your identity is chosen. What encouraged that choice? What does that choice mean to you?

Alright, so your identity isn’t chosen. How does that factor into your understanding of origin? What does that point of origin mean to you?

What if these experiences are woven together, like how they are for me?

What about those whose identities exist in multitudes? Are they expected to prioritize their involuntary identities over their chosen ones?

What if someone simply doesn’t place themself anywhere along this spectrum? I don’t find it hard to believe that there’s folks who find these matters to be irrelevant to their experience(s).

So many questions, yet there’s hardly any discussion of them. No contemplation, no answers.

I found it more and more difficult to label my experiences within these frameworks when I couldn’t find any reason to keep emphasizing on them. The only results I got were further complications with my identity. I don’t mind doing a bit of categorizing with my alterhumanity. Far from it, in fact. I quite enjoy keeping track of all the quirks of my being. However, occasionally returning to “voluntary vs. involuntary” framing when elaborating on my alterhumanity became a chore that I had enough of. Thus, I decided to stop putting up with it.

After all, why should I? It invokes nothing within me.

I have no issue with acknowledging context(s) that are relevant to an experience. That said, stressing the position of being “mostly involuntary with a few exceptions” left a bitter taste in my mouth. It felt like I was pushing out a disclaimer. Worst of all, I was limiting myself.

Why do they only have to be “few exceptions”?

Why skirt aside these experiences when they still have value of their own, equal to those that weren’t chosen?

After accepting the ambiguity of my Draconian fracture, it wasn’t the last fracture of mine to manifest with no discernible origin. It was at that point when I realized: does this framework even apply to me at all?

No, it didn’t. I can’t solely be one way or the other because I have a wealth of experiences that spread across voluntarity and involuntarity. This in particular is attributed to my polymorphism. In the same way that there’s no limit to the kinds of species I can be, there’s no limit to how these species can manifest within my being. It’s taken some time for me to fully accept that. In doing so, I’ve been much more content with myself ever since.

Furthermore, I’ve detached from focusing on these frameworks with labels that I’ve coined. ln the case of “archaeosapience”, I originally stated it to be an involuntary experience in its coining essay, but I wound up taking a step back from this statement. I sat with its implications, specifically why I incorporated it. My reasoning was along the lines of “Well, knowing one’s ties to the past is important!”, but I quickly noticed a flaw in that line of thinking. Nothing about it explained that emphasis on involuntarity. It was just… there.

I wrote off this decision as an implementation of personal bias. In other words, I was exclusively going off of my own experiences. When coining something to put a name to oneself, it’s ideal to pull from one’s own experiences as a way to elaborate but knowing the widespread popularity of label coining, there’s also a communal scope to keep in mind. I did not coin either of my terms with the expectation of communal-wide use, but I still wanted to open my mind and explore all sorts of possibilities with the experience(s) I’m conveying.

I didn’t want to go off of my experience and my experience alone. I wanted to examine every potential crack and crevice at my disposal, even if they’d never come to share their existence with me. It mattered not. What mattered was detracting from my personal bias and considering the broader implications of my label.

Now, of course, that isn’t to say this is the case of all labels that are noted as involuntary or voluntary. This was only an insight of mine as the coiner in question. With that considered, I removed the notion that archaeosapience could only be involuntary in quality and moved forward in sharing this experience with others. This decision would be yet another moment in which I realized the frivolity of treating these frameworks like binaries.

Perhaps, there were little indicators in my previous writings that pointed towards me making this realization along the way. I suspect as much based on the following excerpts from What Lurks Beneath Shell and Scale:

“I’ve learned from a lot of folks who are either unlabeled or the kind to identify very broadly that sometimes, in-depth descriptors aren’t always required for one’s species. It may be important to some, and there is nothing wrong with that. In contrast, there are plenty of folks who do not live under those circumstances and are more than happy to be that way.”

“That’s just how identity and community work. A lot of folks are the same, and a lot of folks are nowhere near alike. But, that’s the beauty of it. It’s those little things that truly make a community a community. So why not be a part of it as your most authentic self, whether vaguely or specifically?”

While I’m not exactly a “No Labels” kind of beast, I can definitely see where some of these perspectives are applicable to my relationship with voluntary-involuntary frameworks. If anything, I’ve leaned more towards describing my alterhumanity as quoiluntary.

Lack of clarity can play a part in my species discoveries as it did with my Draconian self, but that is not the sole reason behind why I’ve motioned to describe my alterhumanity this way. In addition to experiencing both voluntary and involuntary identities under various conditions, I feel no need to segment these experiences.

When given the space to contemplate, I can determine what I am. If I find that something is an experience I have, then I am that. If it is not, and I have no other connection to it, then it is not a part of me. Conversely, if I do have some sort of connection and want to expand upon it (see: my linktypes), I will incorporate it into my being on my own volition. Pressing further than this is unnecessary.

There may be contrasts here and there between my linktypes and my fractures, such as the presence (or lack thereof) of noema. Regardless, those details don’t require me to constantly emphasize on the nature of my alterhumanity. They’re all a part of me. That’s what matters.

Stressing on voluntary-involuntary frameworks was a habit that I wanted to break for myself. By taking a step back and examining my relationship with it, it’s given me a change of perspective that I didn’t know I needed. I didn’t mind being a little critical of myself if it meant better understanding myself in the long run.

I’ve also come recognize a major flaw in how voluntarity and involuntarity are conceptualized, mostly from my past perspectives but also from the past of our community. Said flaw is the approach that they’re completely antithetical to each other. In being a spectrum, it is my belief that voluntarity and involuntarity exist in tandem with each other. They are not conflicting positions of experience, but rather, equal circumstances of being.

I know for certain that my place on this spectrum has its nuances. I don’t see why voluntarity and involuntarity as concepts can’t also be treated like nuanced subjects. I’ve found that allowing myself to exist within my own gray area is much more preferable as opposed to defining my alterhumanity by technicalities.

Make no mistake, an individual can very well be one or the other. Folks don’t need to reconsider how they label their existence as I had, as any spectrum also indicates those whose experience(s) do not ebb and flow within the spectrum itself. All in all, invoking personal revelations isn’t the point of this reflection. That said, I must reiterate that these frameworks should be examined from a broader outlook. Even though personal introspection helped me a lot, so did engaging with and understanding my peers who are quoiluntary.

Our community is on the right track to explore and share these perspectives, but very little discussion leaves the spaces of voluntary and quoiluntary alterhumans. I believe it’d be a good learning experience to discuss these nuances on a general level instead of one corner of our community.