The more I return to the subject of pan-flexibility, the more I find myself asking a different question.

Instead of asking, “What is a pan-flexible man?”

I find myself asking:

“Who is he?”

That small change in the question makes a surprisingly big difference.

A label can give us language. It can help someone describe an experience that might otherwise be difficult to explain. But a label doesn’t tell us everything about the person using it.

And when I think about pan-flexible men—both real people and the fictional characters I want to create—I don’t want to stop at the label.

I want to imagine the life behind it.

He Is More Than His Attraction

Imagine a man who identifies as pan-flexible.

What do we actually know about him from that information alone?

Not very much.

We don’t know his age.

We don’t know his personality.

We don’t know whether he’s outgoing or shy.

We don’t know what he does for a living.

We don’t know whether he wants children.

We don’t know whether he’s close to his family.

We don’t know what makes him laugh.

We don’t know what makes him nervous.

We don’t know what his favorite song is.

We don’t know whether he loves cooking, cars, gardening, sports, books, movies, music, video games, traveling, or staying home.

Most importantly, we don’t know what kind of person he is.

His orientation is one part of his identity.

It isn’t his entire identity.

The Possibilities Are Endless

This is where writing becomes exciting for me.

I can imagine a pan-flexible man who is a mechanic, covered in tattoos, and happiest when he’s working on an old car.

I can imagine another who is a chef and expresses affection by preparing elaborate meals for the people he loves.

I can imagine a carpenter who takes enormous pride in building something beautiful with his own hands.

I can imagine a maintenance worker who seems serious at first but has an unexpectedly playful personality.

I can imagine a landscaper who loves being outdoors.

I can imagine a professional athlete.

A model.

An actor.

A musician.

A teacher.

A businessman.

A father.

A brother.

A best friend.

Or simply a man living an ordinary life.

None of these possibilities is more or less “pan-flexible” because of the occupation.

They’re simply different people.

Masculinity Can Be Complicated Too

Another reason I enjoy imagining these characters is that they allow me to explore masculinity without treating masculinity as one fixed personality type.

A pan-flexible man can be rugged.

He can be gentle.

He can be both.

He can have tattoos, muscles, facial hair, and a traditionally masculine career while also being emotionally expressive.

He can enjoy working with his hands and still be comfortable telling his closest friend that he loves him.

He can be protective without being controlling.

He can be confident without needing to dominate.

He can be vulnerable without believing vulnerability makes him weak.

I find that combination particularly compelling.

The Gentle Man

There is something about gentle masculinity that I keep returning to in my writing.

I like men who can be strong without being harsh.

Men who can be confident without making other people feel small.

Men who can listen.

Men who can apologize.

Men who can show affection.

Men who can admit when they are frightened.

Men who can take care of other people while also accepting care themselves.

None of those characteristics tells us someone’s sexual orientation.

But they tell us something about the character.

And that’s what makes them useful to me as a writer.

Pan-Flexible Doesn’t Have to Mean Predictable

Because pan-flexibility isn’t a universally standardized term, I don’t want my fictional characters to treat it as though there is one official personality attached to it.

There isn’t.

One person who uses the term may describe their attraction very differently from another.

One may experience broad romantic attraction.

Another may experience broad sexual attraction.

Another may notice particular preferences while still feeling that gender isn’t a strict limitation.

Another may use the term while continuing to explore what it means.

That variety gives fiction room to breathe.

The Questioning Man Belongs Here Too

I also want to make room for the man who isn’t completely sure.

Maybe he thinks he could be panromantic.

Maybe he thinks he could be pansexual.

Maybe he’s almost certain.

Maybe he discovers the word pan-flexible and thinks:

“That sounds surprisingly close to what I’ve been experiencing.”

He doesn’t have to announce a final answer immediately.

He can take his time.

He can learn about different identities.

He can reflect on his experiences.

He can talk to people he trusts.

He can change the language he uses.

Or he can decide that no particular label feels necessary.

That uncertainty can be part of his story rather than something the story needs to “fix.”

And Then There Are Pan-Coded Characters

Fiction gives us another fascinating possibility.

A character can be pan-flexible-coded without explicitly being identified as pan-flexible.

Maybe readers notice that he doesn’t conform to traditional expectations.

Maybe his emotional openness stands out.

Maybe he has close friendships with people of many genders.

Maybe he talks about attraction in an unusually open way.

Readers may see pan-flexibility in him.

But another reader may see something entirely different.

That’s part of the beauty of interpretation.

The important distinction is that coding isn’t confirmation.

A character can remind us of an identity without officially having that identity.

And that distinction becomes even more important when we’re talking about real people.

Real Men Deserve That Same Respect

When I write about fictional characters, I have the freedom to establish whatever identity fits the story.

Real people are different.

If a man says he’s straight, that’s what he says he is.

If he says he’s pansexual, that’s what he says he is.

If he says he’s panromantic, questioning, bisexual, pan-flexible, or doesn’t want a label at all, that’s his decision.

Someone else’s interpretation shouldn’t override that.

A man can give someone “pan energy” and still be straight.

He can be incredibly gentle.

He can be affectionate with his male friends.

He can support LGBTQ+ people.

He can challenge traditional masculinity.

None of those qualities gives outsiders permission to determine his orientation.

Why This Matters to My Fiction

Being careful about those distinctions actually gives me more creative freedom, not less.

I can create a character whose identity is explicitly established.

I can create a character who is questioning.

I can create a character whose sexuality is intentionally ambiguous.

I can create a character who is pan-coded.

I can even create a straight character who gets interpreted as pan-coded by the people around him.

Each scenario can tell a different story.

And I think those differences are worth exploring.

The Stories I Want to Tell

This is one reason I keep thinking about making pan-flexible men central to The Pan-curious Journey.

I don’t want to write one definitive story about pan-flexibility.

I want to write several.

Five books could mean five men.

Five lives.

Five personalities.

Five different relationships with attraction.

Five different relationships with masculinity.

Five different experiences with friendship, romance, family, brotherhood, uncertainty, and self-discovery.

The blog posts I’m writing now could even become starting points.

An idea could become a character.

A character could become a scene.

A scene could become a chapter.

And eventually, that chapter could become a novel.

The Person Comes First

That’s ultimately what I want to remember.

When I imagine a pan-flexible man, I don’t want to imagine only his orientation.

I want to imagine his smile.

His sense of humor.

His friendships.

His family.

His dreams.

His fears.

His strengths.

His flaws.

His relationships.

The things he’s proud of.

The things he’s still learning.

The moments when he feels completely confident.

And the moments when he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.

Because that’s what makes him human.

The label can be part of the story.

But the man behind the label is the story I really want to tell.