There is an old country song in which the female singer croons “stand by your man” in a slow, dulcet melody. I am sure that at the time this song came out, millions of housewives of husbands with drinking problems sung along with her, proclaiming their commitment to their “man”. Right now, I am about to take this song in a direction I am more than sure was never intended, so please bear with me.
First off, the term ‘man’ in this song, to me, is not simply a male figure but rather your partner – whether it be a wife, husband, domestic partner, boyfriend, girlfriend, or simply best friend. No matter the label, the sentiment rings true. We all need to stand by, stand strong with, and most importantly stand up for those who are important to us.
This is especially important when your partner or friend is trans*, boi, or gender non-conforming identifying. This means not only accepting them for who they are and embracing their identity (a topic which I will touch on in a later blog, I promise) but also standing up for them when outsiders raise the issue. This is almost more important for your partner than for yourself, or even the outsider in question in that it shows the person you are close with how much you love, support, and care about them.
Now for the amusing anecdote from my own life, which I believe everyone in this community can relate to from one time or another. My best friend is a self-proclaimed “big ol’ dyke” and I love her for it. I would not have it any other way, in fact. As someone who tends to dress in a more ‘femme’ way but is also known to dabble in male-categorized clothing from time to time, I am a full supporter of wearing whatever the hell you want to wear. This is why whenever anyone raises a question of my friend’s gender due to her more generally ‘masculine’ clothing choices, I take up issue with said person – I have been known to get more impassioned about the issue than the person being misgendered, in fact. I am okay with this, and I see it as just another way of showing my friends how much I care about and support them.
This issue is also quite an important one is your partner is trans* identifying, or even may be questioning their gender identity. Your partner needs to know that you support and love who they are as a person and that they can feel comfortable being their entire selves around you. This means not only expressing directly to them these sentiments, but also standing up when others bring it up as an issue – especially when the person bringing it up is in your circle of friends. If your friends slip up on pronouns, call them on it. If it seems to be a continuous occurrence or you fear it is being done on purpose, pull them aside and talk to them about how important it is that they respect your partner and your relationship with that person. More than likely, it is not being done with any malicious intent. However, if your friends are purposely using the wrong pronouns or even trying to call your partner by their government name simply to ‘get a rise out of them’ then you need to do some thinking about who your friends are. This has never been something I have encountered personally, but I know people that have had to put up with it, and it is simply not right. Your partner should feel one hundred percent comfortable around you and your friends, especially if you are close with them. Any time they are with you they should feel safe, and standing up for them is a big part of making sure they feel that way.
So I would like to say a big thank you to the fabulous Tammy Wynette for writing a song that seventy years later can be applied to a topic on a GFB blog. I doubt that is what she had in mind for her ballad, but thanks anyway Tammy.
Xx Emily
24 January 2012
23 January 2012
No Boundaries: Clothing
Oh clothing, never a fun thing to pick out when you're 5 feet 5 inches and the average male is about 5 feet 10 inches. I'm somewhere in between boy clothing sizes and men's, as I'm sure much of you are as well so I've compiled a list of stores/websites that have androgynous clothes where you can usually buy them off the rack without any alterations. Also keep in mind that US clothes in men's and boy's are usually cut a little bigger in the stomach due to all of our obesity and fast food, if you can order from a store/site out of the US you have a better chance of getting something that doesn't make you look like a box! (Canada is a great place to get clothing) I hope this helps you from not panicking anymore or having to spend a lot on tailors. :D
Happy shopping!!
~ Chels
http://www.hm.com/us/
http://www.undergear.com/Clothing/ug-clothing,default,sc.html
http://www.zara.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/category/us/en/zara-us-W2011-s/172053/T-shirts
http://www.thebutchclothingcompany.co.uk/site/lookbook.html
http://amesbrosshop.com/
http://www.alternativeapparel.com/store/Men/Polos-Button-Downs/261.htm
http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/faceted_category.jsp?indexStart=0&categories=catalog01_mens&categories2=catalog01_mens_m_tops
Happy shopping!!
~ Chels
http://www.hm.com/us/
http://www.undergear.com/Clothing/ug-clothing,default,sc.html
http://www.zara.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/category/us/en/zara-us-W2011-s/172053/T-shirts
http://www.thebutchclothingcompany.co.uk/site/lookbook.html
http://amesbrosshop.com/
http://www.alternativeapparel.com/store/Men/Polos-Button-Downs/261.htm
http://www.urbanoutfitters.com/urban/catalog/faceted_category.jsp?indexStart=0&categories=catalog01_mens&categories2=catalog01_mens_m_tops
22 January 2012
FTM Chronicles: Gender Identity and Sexual Orientation
It seems as though recently all I have been answering to people is the difference between Gender Identity and Sexual Orientation. It is mostly cis-gendered (those who’s gender identity matches their physical gender) people who ask the difference since they do not understand where the difference lies since they had not been exposed to it, educationally speaking nor socially. Therefore, I shall write it all down in hopes to clarify for all. Most people do not even realize the difference. It is mostly because society lumps them together as the same. For example, in the acronym LGBT, do you see the odd man in there? If you said the “T”, then you are correct. LGB are sexual orientations, whereas T, which stands for trans*, is not.
“A gender identity is the way in which an individual self-identifies with a gender category, for example, as being either a man or a woman, or in some cases being neither, which can be distinct from biological sex.”
“Sexual orientation describes an enduring pattern of attraction—emotional, romantic, sexual, or some combination of these—to the opposite sex, the same sex, both, or neither, and the genders that accompany them.”
Gender Identity is who a person is internally, whether it is male, female, both or neither. It is the gender one identifies with being. Most people are cis-gender, but there are many that are not. Those who do not have matching gender identities and physical genders are transgender. Now there are a lot of terms underneath the trans* umbrella. I will not dive into that in this article.
Sexual Orientation refers to who one is attracted to romantically. Every person has a sexual orientation, including trans* men and women. There are many variations of sexual orientations out there. Straight (heterosexual), gay/lesbian (homosexual), bisexual, asexual, queer, pansexual. And the list goes on.
Hopefully, for those confused on the difference, that this helps you understand the difference between Gender Identity and Sexual Orientation. If it does not, then please write in, via commenting or email (Genderfuk.Boiz@yahoo.com).
Have a great day, ya’ll!
RAWR!!!!
-WulfBoi
“A gender identity is the way in which an individual self-identifies with a gender category, for example, as being either a man or a woman, or in some cases being neither, which can be distinct from biological sex.”
“Sexual orientation describes an enduring pattern of attraction—emotional, romantic, sexual, or some combination of these—to the opposite sex, the same sex, both, or neither, and the genders that accompany them.”
Gender Identity is who a person is internally, whether it is male, female, both or neither. It is the gender one identifies with being. Most people are cis-gender, but there are many that are not. Those who do not have matching gender identities and physical genders are transgender. Now there are a lot of terms underneath the trans* umbrella. I will not dive into that in this article.
Sexual Orientation refers to who one is attracted to romantically. Every person has a sexual orientation, including trans* men and women. There are many variations of sexual orientations out there. Straight (heterosexual), gay/lesbian (homosexual), bisexual, asexual, queer, pansexual. And the list goes on.
Hopefully, for those confused on the difference, that this helps you understand the difference between Gender Identity and Sexual Orientation. If it does not, then please write in, via commenting or email (Genderfuk.Boiz@yahoo.com).
Have a great day, ya’ll!
RAWR!!!!
-WulfBoi
21 January 2012
A Random Quirk: Consent/Rape
I can sit here and talk to you about trivial topics, but today I want to discuss something a tad bit serious. for some this article may trigger bad or even suppressed thoughts, emotions, or memories. A vague disclaimer is no body’s friend, so please continue on with caution.
~~~~
I was online the other day and stumbled upon a story (story will be posted below). This story triggered something inside that I kept suppressed. In about two months it will be nine years since a friend took something from me that they shouldn’t have; my dignity, my personal safety, my free will, and my internal security.
On April 8th, 2004, I went to hang out with some friends. We had a three day weekend from school for Easter. Towards the end of the night I was offered a place to crash instead of going all the way home. It was someone who I was friends with so I didn’t think anything of it. After walking all of our other friends home, we came back to her house. We stopped in the kitchen for drinks. The only items to drink in the fridge were Mountain Dew. We then go to her room and start watching The L Word. Once finished a few episodes, we decided to settle in a bit. So she starts playing Evanescence on her computer, I start to feel lightheaded and lay on her bed. She takes notice and sits on the bed, pulling my legs on her. She asks if I am okay. I try to speak, but I could barely muffle a vowel sound let alone a full sentence or word. I then start feeling her drum on my legs. I try to speak again as I feel her hands start moving up my leg to my thigh. I want to stop her, but cannot. I beg and wish and pray to the Lord and the Lady that she is not going to keep going.
“Can’t she see something is wrong? That I am unresponsive?”
She pops my button undone and unzips my jeans. “Please stop. I’m begging you to stop,” I scream internally. Her hands grab my wrists, moving my arms above my head slightly. Slowly I start going in an out of consciousness. I don’t remember my hood being up, but it was at a random moment. I see her head near mine, grinning she forces her lips onto mine. I want to puke. She forces my head to the left. I blink at trying to read the clock. It was blurry but red numbers clearly said 2:15am. It was now Friday, the 9th; “Good Friday”. Slowly, her hand makes its way between my legs, under my boxer briefs. Clenching my eyes closed, wishing this would end soon.
The next thing I remember is waking up on her floor with a blanked, pillow, pajama pants and a shirt. Slowly parts of the night came flooding back. I dress quickly seeing as I was alone. As I finish typing my shoes I check my phone to text for a ride home. It blinked with a new message. One from my mother saying she would be picking me up after work. Checking the time, I realize I would have about five or six hours until that would occur. Placing my phone in my pocked, she came back to her room. She says we will be going to the bar with her mother and friends to shoot some pool. I nod silently, not knowing why she was acting as if nothing happened.
During those last few hours, I barely said a word. I was entirely stuck in my head. When I was really young, a therapist said I was “selective mute.’ This was the first real episode I can remember having.
Later that night, I piled the clothing I was wearing in a corner, except my hoodie. I sought comfort in that hoodie. I shall spare the details for another issue, but I sat there that night contemplating suicide. Calling a friend to come get me to I wasn’t alone saved me.
~~~~
The reason I am telling you this all is not for sympathy or pity. It took me nearly nine years, but I claimed my independence from that night and person. The night that I was drugged and raped by a ‘friend’.
I want you to know a few things. Rape is not discriminatory. It does not matter your gender, sexual orientation, race, religion, or occupation. It was be a total stranger, that person at the bar or coffee shop your frequent. It could be a friend, someone you had great fun with for months, hours, or years. I could be someone close to or in your family, your parent’s best friend, your aunt/uncle, or religious figure. It can happen to anyone, by anyone, at any time, at any place, anywhere.
Also, I would like to say firmly, consent is not automatically assumed given. Just because a person is wearing something you deem provocative does not give you consent to touch, kiss, or sleep with them. When someone says “no”, “don’t”, or “stop”, among other negative responses, it means no. If you are in the middle of being intimate with someone and they suddenly say to stop, that means stop. Just because you are dating or are married to someone that does not give you the right to become intimate with them when they refuse or that consent is automatically given. Just because you did not receive a “no”, that does not automatically mean “yes”. An intoxicated or high person cannot give consent. A minor cannot give consent. “No” means “no.” Slurred responses mean “no.” Silence means “no.”
I know this article was long and will make some feel discontent. But it was a necessary voice that needed to be heard. And as you read the brief story below that triggered this article, remember to stay safe. Get your own drinks. Go out with friends instead of alone. And walk down a more active or lit road home, even if it takes longer.
~~~~
"when i was 16, i had a fake i.d. and decided to go to a gay bar by myself because some friends bailed on me. while there, an older gentleman bought me a drink. he wasn’t a creeper, and he definitely wasn’t unattractive. i accepted the drink and began talking to him. no big deal. as the hour progressed, i felt myself feeling strange. i mentioned that i felt like i had a headache, and this guy helped guide me out of the bar. as we were walking down the street, the thought of, “oh god, he’s drugged me. i’m going to die” came to my head. i tried to get away, but i was so drugged up that i could barely walk, let alone speak. it also didn’t help that i had really large “goth” platform shoes because i was going through a phase. anyway, so this guy brought me to his suv and began undressing me. as a final act of defiance, i hit him over the head with my platform shoe. he then punched me, and i remember thinking, “why don’t they ever give workshops to gay guys about being victims of rape too?” while i was as careful as possible, i never saw the guy slip something in the drink. i even watched the bar tender make the drink. anyway, i lied there completely paralyzed while this pervert was lubing up. i locked eyes with his for a moment, and that’s when it happened. a very large and angry drag queen opened the door of the vehicle and beat the shit out of my attempted rapist. she and her other drag friends helped dress and care for me while the police arrived. i was saved by a group guardian drag queens. they were basically the modern day “angels from heaven.""
-Chance M. DeSilvah
Survivor
~~~~
I was online the other day and stumbled upon a story (story will be posted below). This story triggered something inside that I kept suppressed. In about two months it will be nine years since a friend took something from me that they shouldn’t have; my dignity, my personal safety, my free will, and my internal security.
On April 8th, 2004, I went to hang out with some friends. We had a three day weekend from school for Easter. Towards the end of the night I was offered a place to crash instead of going all the way home. It was someone who I was friends with so I didn’t think anything of it. After walking all of our other friends home, we came back to her house. We stopped in the kitchen for drinks. The only items to drink in the fridge were Mountain Dew. We then go to her room and start watching The L Word. Once finished a few episodes, we decided to settle in a bit. So she starts playing Evanescence on her computer, I start to feel lightheaded and lay on her bed. She takes notice and sits on the bed, pulling my legs on her. She asks if I am okay. I try to speak, but I could barely muffle a vowel sound let alone a full sentence or word. I then start feeling her drum on my legs. I try to speak again as I feel her hands start moving up my leg to my thigh. I want to stop her, but cannot. I beg and wish and pray to the Lord and the Lady that she is not going to keep going.
“Can’t she see something is wrong? That I am unresponsive?”
She pops my button undone and unzips my jeans. “Please stop. I’m begging you to stop,” I scream internally. Her hands grab my wrists, moving my arms above my head slightly. Slowly I start going in an out of consciousness. I don’t remember my hood being up, but it was at a random moment. I see her head near mine, grinning she forces her lips onto mine. I want to puke. She forces my head to the left. I blink at trying to read the clock. It was blurry but red numbers clearly said 2:15am. It was now Friday, the 9th; “Good Friday”. Slowly, her hand makes its way between my legs, under my boxer briefs. Clenching my eyes closed, wishing this would end soon.
The next thing I remember is waking up on her floor with a blanked, pillow, pajama pants and a shirt. Slowly parts of the night came flooding back. I dress quickly seeing as I was alone. As I finish typing my shoes I check my phone to text for a ride home. It blinked with a new message. One from my mother saying she would be picking me up after work. Checking the time, I realize I would have about five or six hours until that would occur. Placing my phone in my pocked, she came back to her room. She says we will be going to the bar with her mother and friends to shoot some pool. I nod silently, not knowing why she was acting as if nothing happened.
During those last few hours, I barely said a word. I was entirely stuck in my head. When I was really young, a therapist said I was “selective mute.’ This was the first real episode I can remember having.
Later that night, I piled the clothing I was wearing in a corner, except my hoodie. I sought comfort in that hoodie. I shall spare the details for another issue, but I sat there that night contemplating suicide. Calling a friend to come get me to I wasn’t alone saved me.
~~~~
The reason I am telling you this all is not for sympathy or pity. It took me nearly nine years, but I claimed my independence from that night and person. The night that I was drugged and raped by a ‘friend’.
I want you to know a few things. Rape is not discriminatory. It does not matter your gender, sexual orientation, race, religion, or occupation. It was be a total stranger, that person at the bar or coffee shop your frequent. It could be a friend, someone you had great fun with for months, hours, or years. I could be someone close to or in your family, your parent’s best friend, your aunt/uncle, or religious figure. It can happen to anyone, by anyone, at any time, at any place, anywhere.
Also, I would like to say firmly, consent is not automatically assumed given. Just because a person is wearing something you deem provocative does not give you consent to touch, kiss, or sleep with them. When someone says “no”, “don’t”, or “stop”, among other negative responses, it means no. If you are in the middle of being intimate with someone and they suddenly say to stop, that means stop. Just because you are dating or are married to someone that does not give you the right to become intimate with them when they refuse or that consent is automatically given. Just because you did not receive a “no”, that does not automatically mean “yes”. An intoxicated or high person cannot give consent. A minor cannot give consent. “No” means “no.” Slurred responses mean “no.” Silence means “no.”
I know this article was long and will make some feel discontent. But it was a necessary voice that needed to be heard. And as you read the brief story below that triggered this article, remember to stay safe. Get your own drinks. Go out with friends instead of alone. And walk down a more active or lit road home, even if it takes longer.
~~~~
"when i was 16, i had a fake i.d. and decided to go to a gay bar by myself because some friends bailed on me. while there, an older gentleman bought me a drink. he wasn’t a creeper, and he definitely wasn’t unattractive. i accepted the drink and began talking to him. no big deal. as the hour progressed, i felt myself feeling strange. i mentioned that i felt like i had a headache, and this guy helped guide me out of the bar. as we were walking down the street, the thought of, “oh god, he’s drugged me. i’m going to die” came to my head. i tried to get away, but i was so drugged up that i could barely walk, let alone speak. it also didn’t help that i had really large “goth” platform shoes because i was going through a phase. anyway, so this guy brought me to his suv and began undressing me. as a final act of defiance, i hit him over the head with my platform shoe. he then punched me, and i remember thinking, “why don’t they ever give workshops to gay guys about being victims of rape too?” while i was as careful as possible, i never saw the guy slip something in the drink. i even watched the bar tender make the drink. anyway, i lied there completely paralyzed while this pervert was lubing up. i locked eyes with his for a moment, and that’s when it happened. a very large and angry drag queen opened the door of the vehicle and beat the shit out of my attempted rapist. she and her other drag friends helped dress and care for me while the police arrived. i was saved by a group guardian drag queens. they were basically the modern day “angels from heaven.""
-Chance M. DeSilvah
Survivor
20 January 2012
Updated Application for GFB Staff
Hey, ya'll! This is an updated version of our application. If you are interested in becoming a staff member (blogger/vlogger/admin) on GFB, then just simply fill this out in an email to Genderfuk.Boiz@yahoo.com
Name:
Age:
Location:
Pronoun Preferred:
Gender Identity:
Position Applying For (admin/vlogger/blogger/other):
Column Applying For:
Topic Passionate About:
What is one thing that we should know about yourself?
What are you able to bring to GFB if given the position applied?
RULES:
GFB bloggers must submit minimum of one blog per week or every other week depending on how many bloggers are on your column. If you cannot, then an admin must be notified in a timely matter.
Failure to submit two blogs/vlogs will result in removal from blog/vlog staff.
To be eligible for an admin position, you must have successfully completed six months as a blogger/vlogger in good standing.
GFB staff can enter photo contests, but are not eligible to win.
PLEASE NOTE: Requirements for staff are subject to change at the discretion of and following a majority vote of the current admin staff.
Blogger applicants are also asked to submit a writing sample to be considered, preferably a short bio (roughly 400words).
Vlogger applicants are also asked to submit a video sample to be considered.
Name:
Age:
Location:
Pronoun Preferred:
Gender Identity:
Position Applying For (admin/vlogger/blogger/other):
Column Applying For:
Topic Passionate About:
What is one thing that we should know about yourself?
What are you able to bring to GFB if given the position applied?
RULES:
GFB bloggers must submit minimum of one blog per week or every other week depending on how many bloggers are on your column. If you cannot, then an admin must be notified in a timely matter.
Failure to submit two blogs/vlogs will result in removal from blog/vlog staff.
To be eligible for an admin position, you must have successfully completed six months as a blogger/vlogger in good standing.
GFB staff can enter photo contests, but are not eligible to win.
PLEASE NOTE: Requirements for staff are subject to change at the discretion of and following a majority vote of the current admin staff.
Blogger applicants are also asked to submit a writing sample to be considered, preferably a short bio (roughly 400words).
Vlogger applicants are also asked to submit a video sample to be considered.
How Can I Help You? Second Edition
Relationships are tricky – in fact, relationships will make up the most nonsensical life experiences you will end up having. Other people aren’t supposed to make logical sense to us and frankly, if they did, relationships themselves would be boring as hell. We’re supposed to not understand why that guy won’t call us back, why this girl won’t answer our texts, and all the other wonderful “why’s” that make up young adult dating. It’s part of the fun. And for the times when it’s not so fun…well, that’s what you have GFB for!
Q: “I'm kind of in this situation where I met someone I really liked, and I feel like they led me on, and I had a really bad weekend and ended up telling them to lose my number, ie. I don’t want any contact with them, and then I've sent them a few texts to say that I was sorry and that I would like to try being friends, but I’m really worried that I just totally messed everything up, and I don’t know how to go about fixing things, I guess I just have to wait, but I have real problems with anxiety and am worried that I did a really bad thing and that it’s unforgiveable. I really don’t want them not in my life, but I know that’s totally their call. I know they have issues with anxiety too. I just don’t know how to say sorry in a diff way. I’d really appreciate an outsiders view on this.”
A: As you’ve already admitted to both us and yourself, you did something a bit rash in telling them to not talk to you anymore, when clearly that is not what you wanted.
First things first, you need to take a real deep breath. And then another. Continue on in this same trend until you have calmed yourself enough to remember something – this person likes you. If they did not, they wouldn’t have been talking to you in the first place. Then you need to ask yourself why it is that you felt they were leading you on. If it was anything more than your own insecurities (ie, something they did, said, other such shadiness that went on) then you may want to take time to re-evaluate your feelings about the budding relationship. Maybe you’re the one not ready to move beyond the ‘liking’ them stage, and that is why you lashed out in the way that you did.
If you’ve gone through all of the steps thus far, and concluded that you are calm, actually into this person, and you can form a cogent sentence to express how sorry you are, then any reasonable person would be more than willing to sit down and talk things out with you. The only unforgivable thing you could do, would be to let one bad weekend ruin something that could turn out in the end.
However, I have to say…I don’t much care how ‘bad’ of a weekend you had, that is not an excuse to take out your frustration on the person you’re talking to. There is a flip side to this situation though: now they’ve already seen your foolishness. If you come through this situation, there is fairly high hope for the future.
If you ‘kind of really like’ this person, here is what I want you to do: copy and paste what you just sent to me to answer, to them. Chances are, if they kind-of-really like you back...and in that case, you’re golden.
-Sage Veritas
Q: “I'm kind of in this situation where I met someone I really liked, and I feel like they led me on, and I had a really bad weekend and ended up telling them to lose my number, ie. I don’t want any contact with them, and then I've sent them a few texts to say that I was sorry and that I would like to try being friends, but I’m really worried that I just totally messed everything up, and I don’t know how to go about fixing things, I guess I just have to wait, but I have real problems with anxiety and am worried that I did a really bad thing and that it’s unforgiveable. I really don’t want them not in my life, but I know that’s totally their call. I know they have issues with anxiety too. I just don’t know how to say sorry in a diff way. I’d really appreciate an outsiders view on this.”
A: As you’ve already admitted to both us and yourself, you did something a bit rash in telling them to not talk to you anymore, when clearly that is not what you wanted.
First things first, you need to take a real deep breath. And then another. Continue on in this same trend until you have calmed yourself enough to remember something – this person likes you. If they did not, they wouldn’t have been talking to you in the first place. Then you need to ask yourself why it is that you felt they were leading you on. If it was anything more than your own insecurities (ie, something they did, said, other such shadiness that went on) then you may want to take time to re-evaluate your feelings about the budding relationship. Maybe you’re the one not ready to move beyond the ‘liking’ them stage, and that is why you lashed out in the way that you did.
If you’ve gone through all of the steps thus far, and concluded that you are calm, actually into this person, and you can form a cogent sentence to express how sorry you are, then any reasonable person would be more than willing to sit down and talk things out with you. The only unforgivable thing you could do, would be to let one bad weekend ruin something that could turn out in the end.
However, I have to say…I don’t much care how ‘bad’ of a weekend you had, that is not an excuse to take out your frustration on the person you’re talking to. There is a flip side to this situation though: now they’ve already seen your foolishness. If you come through this situation, there is fairly high hope for the future.
If you ‘kind of really like’ this person, here is what I want you to do: copy and paste what you just sent to me to answer, to them. Chances are, if they kind-of-really like you back...and in that case, you’re golden.
-Sage Veritas
19 January 2012
It's A Butch World Out There: Bitchin', Butchy Prince Charming
It’s a butch world out there they say, and I’m aiming to face it head on. But what if I never have really considered myself butch before? For the first twenty one years of my life, I had never regarded that as an adjective to describe me. Sure, I enjoyed wearing men’s clothes and hid my bosoms behind baggy shirts and sports bras. Yes, whenever we play Kings Cup and someone drew a 5, I’d prefer to drink with the guys instead of 6 for chicks. But “butch”? I always would shy away from the title. Mainly for the disdain of my relatives whenever I seem to do anything considered “manly”.
“You’re just doing this to try and be more butch. You know, you don’t have to try to look gayer.”
A family member said this to me in reference to me getting my lip pierced at age nineteen. I had never really grown out of my youthful “tomboy” phase, but I didn’t think anything about me screamed raging butch lesbian. I wore women’s jeans, had long hair, and at the time enjoyed occasionally wearing things that may cause a wandering eye to fancy a look or two. So what was it that provoked such a response?
Until recently I hadn’t really pondered over it on a personal level. People would ask, “Well, who’s the butch and who’s the femme?” or “Who’s the guy and who’s the girl?” These questions I admittedly am not fond of, only because it seems inane to assume that any relationship between two persons must be boiled down to one assuming an all masculine role and one adopting a traditionally feminine role. My answer to either of these questions would always be, “I’m just Kai.” Lately though I seek to examine more into butch culture; I want to educate myself on a persona that I am becoming more comfortable adopting as my own.
What classifies one as butch? Does it have to do more with one’s attitude or appearance, or both? Can you be considered “butch” and still have femme-esque attributes?
I feel that butch is a label we can either choose to adopt or not; it all matters on how comfortable you are in your own skin. It can be represented by donning men’s clothing and hairstyles. It can be in your gentlemanly charm when you offer to hold open a door for someone and allow others to go ahead. Being butch does not exclude femininity. (Hell, I’d be the first to admit that a good mani/pedi every now and then is just what the doctor ordered.) For me, it is about the confidence I display in being true to who I am. It is welcoming the notion that I may not be the “Princess” my Grandmother always told me I was, but I am still a bitchin’, butchy Prince Charming.
Kai
“You’re just doing this to try and be more butch. You know, you don’t have to try to look gayer.”
A family member said this to me in reference to me getting my lip pierced at age nineteen. I had never really grown out of my youthful “tomboy” phase, but I didn’t think anything about me screamed raging butch lesbian. I wore women’s jeans, had long hair, and at the time enjoyed occasionally wearing things that may cause a wandering eye to fancy a look or two. So what was it that provoked such a response?
Until recently I hadn’t really pondered over it on a personal level. People would ask, “Well, who’s the butch and who’s the femme?” or “Who’s the guy and who’s the girl?” These questions I admittedly am not fond of, only because it seems inane to assume that any relationship between two persons must be boiled down to one assuming an all masculine role and one adopting a traditionally feminine role. My answer to either of these questions would always be, “I’m just Kai.” Lately though I seek to examine more into butch culture; I want to educate myself on a persona that I am becoming more comfortable adopting as my own.
What classifies one as butch? Does it have to do more with one’s attitude or appearance, or both? Can you be considered “butch” and still have femme-esque attributes?
I feel that butch is a label we can either choose to adopt or not; it all matters on how comfortable you are in your own skin. It can be represented by donning men’s clothing and hairstyles. It can be in your gentlemanly charm when you offer to hold open a door for someone and allow others to go ahead. Being butch does not exclude femininity. (Hell, I’d be the first to admit that a good mani/pedi every now and then is just what the doctor ordered.) For me, it is about the confidence I display in being true to who I am. It is welcoming the notion that I may not be the “Princess” my Grandmother always told me I was, but I am still a bitchin’, butchy Prince Charming.
Kai
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