I'm a guy who loves to wear lipstick, eyeliner, and fake nails. I don't fit in any LGBTQ box, but I call myself a 'queerdo.'

• I've always hated groups and labels, so I never fit in with LGBTQ identities.
• As someone who loves to dress up and wear makeup, I've started calling myself a queerdo.

I'm a bald man who often walks around in a full femme aesthetic: a touch of lipstick, a dash of eyeliner, and fake nails.

I often see people desperately grasping to find a label for me. I've been asked in clubs and bars to cough up my orientation. Sometimes acquaintances pull out that oh-so-cumbersome and lengthy LGBTQ checklist, just to measure where I fall along that ol' sexual-identity yardstick.

But the truth is I don't fit in any box. I don't fit anywhere on the LGBTQ spectrum, and instead call myself a queerdo.

I've always been someone who proudly doesn't fit in

I've never been comfortable around groups. There's something about a mass of people all doing a thing that sends shivers up my spine: groupthink, group identity, group rules.

It's awfully off-putting to a shapeshifter like me. I'm someone who doesn't do well adhering to strict dress codes.

I've always been this way. Growing up, when my peers all listened to a new "amazing" band, I'd listen to the opposite. If there was hype around a book or movie, I'd steer clear of it. Call me a skeptic or a rebel without a cause, but I never wanted to blindly follow a herd.

As a result, people often say to me, "You're such a weirdo." I have always taken pride in that. In a very strange and perfect way, I knew I'd done something right.

I never felt like any of the LGBTQ boxes suited my identity, so I made my own

I started calling myself a queerdo — a queer weirdo — when I was 26.

I didn't want to be part of the LGBTQ groups or squeeze myself into any of the boxes. Making up and identifying as a queerdo helped me reclaim my expression.

To me, queerdo means I make my own rules, and they're all-encompassing. It takes care of my sexual orientation, my gender expression, my chosen identity, and my creative lifestyle.

You'll notice my definition doesn't explicitly explain how I identify or who I am attracted to. Because it doesn't matter.

Why must I explain my private life? Why should anyone know about my sex and sexuality? Why is it important that someone else knows who I did or didn't sleep with?

All you need to know is that I'm a queerdo.

Being a queerdo has allowed me to have more fun — and just be weird

As a queerdo I have fun with my sexual power and expression. I get to be both masculine and feminine. It's great to be weird.

I enjoy experimenting with dazzling and outlandish costumes. Why not spice up the everyday with sparkling eye shadow or space-dust lipstick? There should always be an excuse to jazz up an occasion with sexy fashion magic. Life should be vibrant, colorful, and creative, and being a queerdo helps me do just that.

I know it can sound derogatory — queerdo. But to me, that couldn't be further from the truth.

I enjoy the simple, comedic chaos of my brand. Being a queerdo is liberating. It brings curiosity into my expression. It's creative and playful. I'll leave the confined stuffy boxes to the groupies and get back to the important work of enjoying my lived experience. Now, what shall I wear tonight?