“Form-fitting feels different than tailored and my form is something I’m super protective of — so why the fuck did I decide to wear leggings today?”
Every two years the butches of the world convene to absorb each other’s butch powers.
Aimée talks about her femme identity, what it’s like to have lupus, and the cultural differences between the United States and Ireland.
“Being butch is something I have both been my entire life and something that I have chosen.”
Is there a space within sex positivity for those of us who feel uncomfortable doing what sex positivism seems to ask of us?
Why is it that time and time again, people act like they can’t make me uncomfortable? That as a butch — as well as a queer person, a top, someone who likes to flirt and be sexual just like most human beings — it’s impossible to sexually harass me?
She looked me up and down, shook her head like she was clearing her ears, and then turned to check the sign on the door. Ah, I thought.
“It’s easy for us to say that we don’t participate in the patriarchy because we are women, or because we have been women, that we have known what it’s like to be objectified, oppressed, fetishized. The thing is that we queers can perpetuate rape culture just as much as the next frat boy…”
I want to talk about shape-shifting, and clothing, and being a butch who wears things, because so much of butchness is tied up in the things we put on our body.
It’s because of the real-life women who took enormous risks to their personal safety, and who physically fought to wear whatever undies, clothing and footwear they damn well pleased that we can have underwear week at all.
It’s that tie-straightening and sunglass removal feeling.
Real talk on femme privilege from a femme who wasn’t always a femme.
“I’ve seen some queer people who insist on holding doors, and other queers who use their stilettos to step on the feet of the men who do the same. I love them both, but I’m not sure if I can call sides in a concept of gentlemanly behavior that’s much older than any of us.”
“I just don’t see why a woman would want to aspire to masculinity when she doesn’t like men.”
“That’s what you wish you could tell her when you’re staring at your shoes or finishing that drink or pretending there’s nothing else to say.”
“I get angry at myself for having feelings this big to begin with, and then I wrestle for a few hours with the unique mixture of self-loathing, rage, and sobbing.”
“If I wear my heart on my sleeve – and I do these days, much to the shock and dismay of a butch gone prematurely tender – then the sleeve itself is my masculinity.”
This is what the inside of my heart looks like.