Why questioning a new kintype is so important: a personal anecdote

So it’s been almost five months since I wrote about questioning Yuri from FE3TH…nope, sorry, we didn’t have a winner. That instant ping was nothing more than a distraction, which became readily apparent as soon as the DLC was out and there was more information. I played through the new section of the game that featured him and felt…. Nothing. Don’t get me wrong I liked his character a lot; it just became readily apparent that he was not me– despite some superficial similarities– and his struggles weren’t mine. There was no connection and I never felt anything like a memory related to being him.

Guesses I made about him before information was available also did and didn’t bear out. I surmised that he was a thief (an easy guess) but felt like he (or I) was the disgraced son of a noble house which ended up very much not being the case. 

When you’re fictionkin, you have to be willing to question yourself and your feelings and not get wrapped up in wanting it to be true or not. If something’s a real kintype, it’s there whether you accept it or not and not there no matter how hard you might want to be someone. Questioning someone and ultimately coming to the conclusion that it was a false lead is not something to be embarrassed about.

I was somewhat relieved to be able to put down questioning Yuri with a firm ‘no’– one less weight on my shoulders. Unfortunately it left me with a lot of unanswered questions about my feelings about the FE3H universe and characters, which kept on pulling me despite an equal feeling of… lets say detachment. Less like unfamiliarity and more like looking at someone you hate and insisting that you’ve never seen them before in your life.

As I said in my last piece I had questioned Felix for a bit. An outwardly cold swordboy from a noble house. For about a day I also worriedly questioned if I was in fact, prince Dimitri, before thankfully putting that down as well. But…There was another character who I had adamantly not given any thought to, not looked for more information on, not interacted with, not questioned. A character I had as much as possible pushed out of my mind aside from making jokes about it.

It didn’t take long after I let myself watch/read/play more of his story before the heaviness settled on me. I spent some time staring fixedly at the ceiling. A long time. This was the feeling my other kintypes shared that my false paths hadn’t. The ache, the familiarity, the sense of personal embarrassment and frustration.Like looking back at your diary from when you were younger. It wasn’t long until the floodgates opened. Answers about his life and self came easy to me. Felt right. Came immediately. Didn’t seem to need second guessing. My feelings about the setting and characters all snapped into place when I considered them from his…. My perspective. 

Kintypes aren’t something one has the luxury to choose themselves, any more than we can choose our own past in this life. The path we’ve walked, the sins we’ve committed, they are all there behind us, whether we accept them or reject them. I have always been, and remain, committed to choosing to face and accept myself in whatever form I find. The truth, my personal truth, is important to me. Others may not believe in any of this or may think that being fictionkin and learning a new kintype simply means that one is some kind of obsessive megafan, or that it’s a role to be played but that’s not what it means to me. Its not to say that being fictionkin or learning a new kintype has never brought me joy, or a sense of satisfaction, but every life has its own burdens– every memory brings back friends and enemies you won’t see again. I can’t put myself in the shoes of someone who would hold on to a kintype they know isn’t right.

Declaring a new kintype publicly is hard for me. It’s always a “big deal”. It always feels embarrassing or shameful. Like it’s something I should keep to myself. In some cases I have. But… sometimes it’s important to share who you are. Who you were. In that life I was known by more than one name. Emile. Jeritza. Death Knight.

The words are spoken. They are given weight.

I am open to questions, assuming they are polite.

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