Bringing It Up: Describe The Butch You Are

[AtLast]

I am a butch that is as tired of the stereotypes and generalizations made about butches as I am of transmen and femmes- all of the identities that are a part of this community.

Butch is simply one aspect of who I am. A positive part along with many other things that add up to me.

[Converse]

I wear labels- each one explains something, none are contrary, each one – sought, questioned, embraced- They are etched into my belt.



I enjoy the company of everyone who flags queer. I don’t need complete sentences to understand what a person who has walked in Butch shoes for many years is trying to say; and for those new to just finding those shoes, I feel a little ache as I know the challenges that lay ahead for them.

As a Butch I understand the struggle and strength of the Femme, the role that each played in allowing me to walk tall, for letting me see in myself what only they could.

I am Butch because others walked before me and demanded the name; I am Butch because a Femme risked everything to tell me and everyone looking our way that I am wanted. I am Butch the noun. I do not understand butchy, butch-like, or sometimes butch. I am old enough and have ventured far around the globe enough to carry the scars that the politic of any given day inflicted.

I am the kind of Butch who does not laugh easily, and who has to consciously make an effort to smile in order to make someone feel at ease. I am the kind of Butch who detests bullying and without thought will rise to the occasion. I am the kind of Butch who carries OFOS expectations and struggles with the concept that it is not universal within the community.

I am the kind of Butch who finds pleasure in every single day, feels deeply others sorrow, finds wonderment in the extraordinary, relishes lessons learned, and finds amusement in the ridiculous..... and I am the kind of Butch that you would have to know well to see that.

[clay]

I am the butch who will walk beside you..hold you...carry you...and love you...unconditionally...and never waiver in my love and committments to you!

[boobookitty]

What kind of Butch am I?
Well, I have read many descriptions and I have seen many traits represented on this thread, which I could claim as my own, but I ask myself how do I stand apart?

(grins) How I look is a BIG difference. Well sort of, ... I can dress boi, and even pass for male at first glance, ... at a distance... (laughing) But, I rarely do in public. My masculine expression, is a vulnerable and personal point of my existence. I have had dysphoria events so bad I hardly lived through them, so I decided, if I have to be 'girl' -- I might as well be a HOT one -- So call me a lesbian drag queen or a Butch in Drag, (lots of other things too) its fine with me. (one friend has called me a bulldykefaggotqueen, which I thought was funny as hell! --major laughter--)

I stand at the crossroads of many gender categories, non transitional FtM transgender/dissociative bigender/Stone Butch Lesbian.
I feel the brotherhood, of Old School/Old Fashion ideaology and I just 'get' the Butch/Femme dynamic, I never needed it to be explained.

I adore a feminine woman! I am entranced by the Lipstick Femme, and yearn to feel 'her' yield to my embrace. To see her enjoy the complexity of interaction with a Lipstick Butch. (there are not many of 'us' in the world) I am gentle, understanding, honest and respectful of feminine drama. I can be the 'Butch' she needs and the best 'girlfriend' too. (its not always easy to sort that out)

I am a Stone Butch, I joke that its a 3 trimester collage course in advanced psychology, to understand why. But, I hope to get over those issues someday. Yet, I lose nothing by that loss, like someone who has lost their sight and other senses become more acute, my genitals may not work as designed, but I can climax just from my girl caressing my hands. Or from my hands gliding across the fullness of her curves. (and I do like 'fullness' in her curves) I will also confess, a little feminine 'bitching' is a bit of a turn on to me.

I like to dance, (I lead) I enjoy singing along with songs on the radio, (I have been told my voice is nice). And after 30 years of therapy, I can talk almost any subject to death! Also, I have a wicked sense of humor and I am a compulsive flirt!

On the practical everyday--getting things done--side of life, I am a modern homesteader (have lived on this sixty acres for over ten years). I designed and built most of my house. (its two story, so I had to have some help) I own and use all the tools needed to do the work. It is small and comfortable, heated by wood, powered by wind and solar. I am a master gardener, can raise the food, preserve it, and save seed for next year. I have lived with and raised animals most of my life. I like dogs and cats. (I like to call myself a blue eyed tomcat)

I like honesty and intelligent conversation. I endevor to keep the promises
I make, so I rarely make them. I can love someone, when not 'in love' with them. (hence, I am not single)

[AlexHunter]

I'm a neo-traditionalist butch. What I mean by this is: I'm glad for the progressive ideas of the present, but I deeply value displays of manners and chivalry that seem to have been dismissed as silly by some members of my generation. (I'm 28.)

I prefer cordial discussion to excess displays of dramatic energy; I believe in greeting everyone for the first time with eye contact and a pronounced handshake... with a kiss on the hand for the ladies when the situation is appropriate; and - surprising as it may be to those who know me - I do not swear in the presence of women (or anyone, for that matter) until I know they are okay with it.

I'm no Ward Cleaver, nor am I a white knight. I'm gentle but firm.

I listen instead of waiting for my turn to talk because I think other people (especially femmes) are probably more fascinating than I am. I don't speak unless I have something to say.

I'm a queer history buff. I tip my fedora to the courageous butches - both alive and dead - who existed before my time. They sacrificed their bodies, minds, and pride in dirty bars, paved our history, and fought to defend our identities.

I'm dapper and badass; a gentleman and a bad boy.

I am a genderqueer/transgendered butch. I prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns, but I won't get my boxer briefs in a wad over female ones. I feel like a guy, but have chosen not to transition due to the cost and lack of bottom surgery options. This has caused me to proudly embrace being of a third gender on a quest to love myself. People ask me when I will transition sometimes and don't comprehend the idea that I have no intention to do that. I am happy with who I am.

I am not quite a stone butch, but I am close to it. I'd say I'm 90% stone. I am okay with being touched between my legs by the right partner; I just don't want to be feminized in the process.

I am a butch because butch means masculine. I am a butch because I love and understand this dynamic; because I adore femmes and acknowledge them to be my kryptonite; because I was euphoric when I discovered there was actually a group of pretty girls who would like someone like me.

[rande]

Alex, I get you and am the same way.
Thanks for posting.

[Miss Scarlett]

Originally Posted by claybaby

I am the butch who will walk beside you..hold you...carry you...and love you...unconditionally...and never waiver in my love and committments to you!

Yes Baby...you are this butch and everything you said in your other 2 posts and so much more!

You're the butch who walked to the car in the pouring rain and returned to the store with an umbrella...
The butch who would never let a door shut in my face...
The butch who tied moss to my car antenna as a reminder of a special day...
The butch who packed up leftovers for me so i wouldn't have to cook dinner for myself Monday night...
The butch who checks fluid levels in my car to make sure everything is ok...
The butch who insists on carrying my overnight bag from and to my car...
The butch who never gave up on the possibility of us...
i'm a very lucky babygrrl...

[clay]

Originally Posted by Miss Scarlett

Yes Baby...you are this butch and everything you said in your other 2 posts and so much more!

You're the butch who walked to the car in the pouring rain and returned to the store with an umbrella...
The butch who would never let a door shut in my face...
The butch who tied moss to my car antenna as a reminder of a special day...
The butch who packed up leftovers for me so i wouldn't have to cook dinner for myself Monday night...
The butch who checks fluid levels in my car to make sure everything is ok...
The butch who insists on carrying my overnight bag from and to my car...
The butch who never gave up on the possibility of us...
i'm a very lucky babygrrl...

No baby, it is I who is blessed!!! THANK YOU, my love, for such wonderful sentiments regarding me!!! I love you, B!

[Sachita]

Originally Posted by Miss Scarlett

Yes Baby...you are this butch and everything you said in your other 2 posts and so much more!

You're the butch who walked to the car in the pouring rain and returned to the store with an umbrella...
The butch who would never let a door shut in my face...
The butch who tied moss to my car antenna as a reminder of a special day...
The butch who packed up leftovers for me so i wouldn't have to cook dinner for myself Monday night...
The butch who checks fluid levels in my car to make sure everything is ok...
The butch who insists on carrying my overnight bag from and to my car...
The butch who never gave up on the possibility of us...
i'm a very lucky babygrrl...

awwwwww how sweet is that?

[Blaze]

What kind of Butch am I:
Interestingly enough I am the old school type. Raised with the knowledge of the generation that took to the streets and fought for our rights, the right to wear what makes us feel good, the right to walk with a woman in our arms, to open the door, politely wait patiently as they get ready, order the diner plate they want after you discussed it. Puts on their heels and strap them after they put on their stockings. Help to put the necklace and zip up their zipper. The type that remembers to acknowledge how beautiful they look, or secretly fixes a bra strap, or lip stick that is on their teeth. I am the type that will watch her walk proudly across the room. Smiles and doesn't get jealous because no matter how many may crowd around her, she never lets it get to her heart, as she comes strolling back to me. The type that would turn mean if someone threatened her, and I will verbally state that you owe her an apology. I am a Butch that has an odd sense of humor, sometimes more like a kid, a Peter Pan Soul that has an older image that looks back at me in that mirror. I am thoughtful, caring, considerate,and in an instant can be argumentative, combative, and unreasonable. I am a Butch. I am a Proud Soul, and comfortable in my own shoes...

[gaea]

Originally Posted by Blaze

What kind of Butch am I:
Interestingly enough I am the old school type. Raised with the knowledge of the generation that took to the streets and fought for our rights, the right to wear what makes us feel good, the right to walk with a woman in our arms, to open the door, politely wait patiently as they get ready, order the diner plate they want after you discussed it. Puts on their heels and strap them after they put on their stockings. Help to put the necklace and zip up their zipper. The type that remembers to acknowledge how beautiful they look, or secretly fixes a bra strap, or lip stick that is on their teeth. I am the type that will watch her walk proudly across the room. Smiles and doesn't get jealous because no matter how many may crowd around her, she never lets it get to her heart, as she comes strolling back to me. The type that would turn mean if someone threatened her, and I will verbally state that you owe her an apology. I am a Butch that has an odd sense of humor, sometimes more like a kid, a Peter Pan Soul that has an older image that looks back at me in that mirror. I am thoughtful, caring, considerate,and in an instant can be argumentative, combative, and unreasonable. I am a Butch. I am a Proud Soul, and comfortable in my own shoes...

love this...all of this even the country song part....she never lets it go to her heart..baby your not that old...unless your pics are much older than they appear

[Ginger]

Originally Posted by AtLast

I am a butch that is as tired of the stereotypes and generalizations made about butches as I am of transmen and femmes- all of the identities that are a part of this community.

Butch is simply one aspect of who I am. A positive part along with many other things that add up to me.

You make so much good sense, AtLast.

[Ginger]

I see you standing on the subway platform and in line at the grocery store. I saw you get out of a car, then run around to the driver’s side window to kiss your girlfriend goodbye. I see you in the faculty dining room, book propped in front of you while you eat, and going up the escalator, talking to a student.

I know you sometimes don’t like the heightened visibility that comes with being Butch, but there is an upside to that—you are visible to me. It lifts my spirits, to catch sight of you. I notice your belt, your shoes, your shirt, your jacket, the way you step back so some kid can get in front of you on the subway stairs.

I saw you this morning, heading toward an office building near mine. It wasn’t just the suit, the crew cut and sturdy shoes that made my antennae quiver, it was your steady pace—more steady than my own, as I navigated pot holes in heels and it started to drizzle—and I noticed the watchful way you kept an eye on your surroundings.

I loved you the whole ten years I was with N, who was amused by my crushes on Butch women, and didn’t understand what I wanted any better than I did, myself.

I trace my pull toward you to adolescence, when I read a young adult novel about a teenage girl who crushes on a boy, the whole book building toward their first kiss. I read and reread that scene where they’re standing together and she brushes her face against his starched white shirt, reaches her arms around his neck and feels the soft bristle above the back of his collar. I translated that scene as Butch-Femme erotica, though I didn’t know those words.

I was looking for you even then, in the books I read, and the TV shows I watched. When I heard the word “feminist” for the first time, I sensed something dangerous about it, something exciting. I asked my mother what it meant, and she told me to consider its root word, which I knew was “feminine.”

“So it must mean, a lady who’s really feminine,” I said, somehow bothered with the connection.

“Just the opposite,” my mother shot back, stitching my devotion to you even tighter.

I joke about going to a lesbian bar in Los Angeles when the Olympics were held there, but I was serious about finding you and I did, the whole rowing team at one long table, passing a couple pitchers of beer. Thank you for inviting me over, I had a great time and still think your biceps are awesome.

Where was I.

Oh yeah, looking for you. And I feel elated when I find you. And what I love about you, is that you always find me, too.

If I’m in a crowded lesbian bar, like I was a couple weeks ago, and there is one Butch in there, she will keep me in her sites. Sometimes I need a hit of that attention—which is different, by the way, than how I felt last night on the roof of a parking garage, wind whipping my dress against my legs in a way that made me uneasy. “Nice,” leered some guy with a briefcase, and I looked up to see where the voice was coming from and glare at him.

If you had been there, you would have looked, and maybe even leered, but not in a way that would have made that defense mechanism rise in me. I don’t assume you’re some kind of priest or knight in shining armor—I hate some of the stereotypes imposed on you—but I know if it had been you watching me on that roof, in that wind, I would have met your eyes, Ha, caught you, and smiled, and you would have had the sense to laugh at yourself.

I finally let myself look for you in a purposeful way, after my life’s most significant, long-term relationship ended, and my sister died, and I quit my nice job and left New York then came back two years later and everything was different. It was like I had hit the “reset” button my life.

I started with dating websites, and the shy vagueness of my ads got me a few blind dates with nice lipstick lesbians with whom I had great talks over dinner, comparing notes on the whole online dating thing. We admired each other’s shoes (yes, a cliché, but true), and earrings.

Soon after that, I stepped up to the plate and put “Butch” in my ads, front and center.

And then, there you were. It felt daring, a kind of “coming out” for me, and I enjoyed the learning curve.

For one thing, I learned that masculine energy in a woman is expressed in unpredictable ways, and I am still sometimes caught by surprise when a Butch reveals things I forgot could be there: She shaves her legs. She collects little ceramic things. She has more expensive moisturizers than I do. She wants to be taken of, sometimes, and she's tired of being in charge.

Those surprises make me love you even more. I respect how you hold on to the things that make you who are you, no matter who arises to police your action; even people in your own community.

What’s changing though, is our community’s acceptance that Butch women are not all cut from the same cloth. I love you in all your shapes and sizes. I hear loud and clear your struggles with body image, your discomfort in public restrooms where women call security, thinking a man is there. If my new straight friend thinks “Butch” has negative connotations, it’s her ignorance that is the problem, not you or my attraction to you. If someone at work sees you pick me up outside our building in your leather and work boots, assumes you’re my boyfriend then stammers, realizing you aren’t, I’m just happy to help open that person's world a little wider.

My connection with you is a source of joy for me, and people’s stares take nano-status next to my big feelings for you. That time I caught you browsing a bit furtively in Victoria’s Secret (where I’d told you to meet me—what was I thinking!), I was laughing at myself for my lapse in judgment, not you, and I was welling with affection at what a good sport you are.

I want you with me at my nephew’s wedding. I want to sit with you at the most romantic table in the restaurant, and I want you to kiss me goodbye at the airport, because no one’s horrified look, a whole terminal of horrified looks couldn’t matter more than that kiss.

I know you’ve had to negotiate with the world in ways I haven’t, and I am in awe of how you’ve emerged with your authentic self, intact—despite a culture poised to punish you for rejecting its standards, and eager to mock you, if you try to meet them.

Sometimes I think you’ve forgotten, that I need you as much as you need me, whether we are partners, friends or just existing in the same community.

I love what Butch women see in me, and I don’t like living without that validation.

If I am partnered with a woman full of masculine energy but who doesn’t ID as Butch, she must—at the very least—understand that if I want her on my side, it doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.

She has to be there for me in a way that doesn’t make her "strong" and me "weak," and she must never see as less-than, the things about me that are different from her—in fact, I want her to love those differences.

Those differences are at the heart of why I love Butch women. It varies partner by partner, friend by friend, but it’s your reverence for those points of difference that makes my heart leap and my breath change, and makes me keep an eye out for you, wherever I am.

[Little Fish]

Yes. This.

Thank You.

[Ginger]

Originally Posted by Little Fish

Yes. This.

Thank You.

My pleasure.

[mariamma]

Thank you IslandScout. You spoke my heart. Not that I've ever been so lucky to have seen a table of crew rowers drinking beer *internal squeel*. Maybe I'll be so lucky one day. For years and years I've been with men and while they were not wimps, I always was the strong one. I'm looking forward to the day when I hug hym and know everything will be all right. Until then I'm enjoying those occasional fleeting moments when I see a butch walk down a street or get into hys truck (are there any butches who never owned a truck or motor bike?).

[Mr Nice Guy]

I'm the kind of Butch that Mothers want their straight daughters to marry. Of course I'm not straight. Lol

[rustedrims]

IslandScout..

Just plain beautiful..
I will always appreciate a pretty lady in a dress..
As i pass her i will always look back..

Mariamma..

Butches always have several trucks and bikes in their
lives..I have had my last truck long enough it now has rustedrims..
You forgot softball..

thank you both for noticing..

s..