
What happens when you’re writing nonbinary characters who don’t fall neatly into he/him or she/her? How do you write someone whose gender identity doesn’t conform to expectations, especially when you’re still figuring out who they are?
Sometimes a character begins to take shape through contradiction. Are they strong or passive? Tidy or messy? Male or female (or both or neither)? I’ve had characters like this arrive without explanation, carrying tension instead of clarity, refusing to answer the questions I thought I needed to ask.
And that uncertainty, that space of not knowing, can become the most interesting part.
When Ambiguity Is the Point
Sometimes, a character’s identity is fluid because the character themself is still discovering who they are. Other times, the ambiguity serves the theme, especially when the story explores invisibility, erasure, or the experience of being sidelined in someone else’s narrative.
When I notice a character staying deliberately out of focus, I’ve learned to pause before “fixing” them. Often, that blur is doing real work.
In stories like these, a character might exist on the margins. Their name may be intentionally gender neutral. Their voice may offer no clear clues. And the effect is intentional. Readers are asked to sit with the discomfort of not knowing.
It asks a lot of the reader. But sometimes, that’s exactly the point. Discomfort, when handled with care, can be an invitation rather than a barrier.
For a great example of this, check out the book Symptoms of Being Human, by Jeff Garvin.
Writing Without Pronouns (Yes, You Can)
It’s absolutely possible to write a character without using gendered pronouns. It’s not easy, but it can be done.
A few strategies to consider:
In Symptoms of Being Human, the author makes the gender fluid protagonist a first person narrator, so the pronoun used most often is “I.”
In third person, use the character’s name more often than you normally would.
Let dialogue and action do the work.
Avoid overt physical descriptions unless they serve a specific purpose.
What I like about this approach is that it forces one to stay anchored in what the character wants, does, and chooses, rather than what the reader might assume about them.
What If the Reader Gets Confused?
They might. And that’s okay.
In fact, that confusion can be part of the reading experience, especially if your goal is to challenge assumptions about gender. If you notice yourself tightening at the thought of a confused reader, pause there. That reaction is worth paying attention to.
One reader might picture your character as male. Another as female. Still another might say, “Why do I need to know?” Each reaction says something about the lens they’re bringing to the work.
Let the story reveal itself. Not everything has to be settled before you begin. Clarity can emerge through writing, not before it.
Know Why You’re Doing It
If you’re writing a gender-fluid or nonbinary character, ask yourself:
What role does gender play in this story?
Does the character’s ambiguity reflect their inner world or the world’s response to them?
Am I avoiding specifics to make a point, or because I’m unsure?
There’s no wrong answer. But being intentional will help you write with more confidence. You don’t need certainty. You need curiosity and honesty.
It’s also worth noting that if you are not gender fluid or non-binary yourself, you might want to connect with someone who identifies in the same way as your character and ask if they would be willing to be a sensitivity/beta reader. When we write outside of our own experiences, it’s important to make sure we’re getting the details right on the page.
A Tool for Clarity: Interview Your Character
If you’re feeling stuck, try interviewing your character. Writers I work with come back to this practice again and again, especially when they’re trying to figure out a character.
Ask the character questions like:
Why do you want to be in my story?
How do you want to be seen?
What do you want to hide?
How do you move through a world that wants to label you?
You don’t have to include the answers in the story. But knowing them can help you shape the character’s tone, decisions, and tension.
These are exactly the kinds of questions I love sitting with alongside other writers. Questions about identity, craft, discomfort, and what happens when a story resists easy answers. If you have thoughts to share, I hope you’ll jump into the comments below and share them.
Inside the Mindful Writing Community, we talk through these kinds of writing challenges all the time. We bring uncertainty, and bold experiments to the table and think them through with other serious, generous writers.
If you’re craving thoughtful conversation and support while you figure things out on the page, my friend, you’d be very welcome to join us.





