To The FemmeMobile! Away!











{April 7, 2010}   “Why don’t you just date a man?”

Is anyone else seeing red already? Excellent. None of my family or friends have ever made the mistake of actually saying this to me, but I have a secret to admit: they didn’t need to. I heard the mythical Them say it to People Like Me, I absorbed it, and I spent years saying it to myself.

I have another secret to admit: despite growing up in a feminist household, I absorbed some serious misogyny, too.  I was nineteen before I could even deal with my own body, much less another female body. (Before that, masturbation didn’t exist for me because it involved girly bits.) It was this inability to deal with the female body, specifically, that made me so confused about my bisexuality. I’d think, “Man, she’s hot!” And then, “Would you want to kiss her? Touch her?” And I’d recoil. But no wonder! I couldn’t even cope with my own boobs, much less other boobs!

So, yeah, then came the long and involved process of Figuring My Shit Out. And then, butches. And the femme constant of, “But why don’t you just date a man?” made doubly difficult because I am bisexual, and could just date a man. (Though I’m getting less and less sure about this as time goes on, I must admit. I suppose I’m still bi. Verrrrry occasionally I’ll see a guy I’m attracted to. But that’s happening less and less often, and even my entirely-lesbian friends occasionally say, “He’s hot,” without it meaning they’re anything other than lesbian. Hmmm.)

Of course, there’s the usual answer. “Because they’re men, and I like butches.” This doesn’t work as well when the question being asked is in my own head. There’s still this kernel of self-doubt. This seed of, “You could barely deal with your own body. How are you going to deal with another female body? Are you going to be able to deal with another female body, or will it be a total turn off?”

Because Q is very toppy, I’ve only had to deal with the top half of her female body, so that didn’t help. But — yay! — no more! I got into her pants. It was awesome. Turns out the female body is damn hot. Excellent!

And suddenly, that’s the most ridiculous question ever asked. Why don’t I just date a man? Because an attraction to butch doesn’t equal an attraction to men. Sometimes it means an attraction to the very masculine, to stone, to male pronouns — but it doesn’t mean man.

It is a relief to know. I really like cock sex, and I really like masculine traits, and even recently I’d been re-questioning myself (still, mind you). Now, I can lay a lot of that to rest. And next time this question comes up, I can answer honestly, without the voice in the back of my head echoing the question over and over, pointing out that I could barely deal with my own female body, and what if I’ve just been deluding myself all this time, and I only like butches because I actually like men? (This wouldn’t carry so much weight if I liked any women besides butches. Maybe someday I will. Who knows? Right now, I don’t.) But it turns out  I totally like female bodies! Possibly more than male ones. I haven’t decided. I’m keeping my options open. ;-D

God, I’m all warm’n’fuzzy thinking about butch again. >.> See, I don’t get this way thinking about men. This is why I don’t date them. ;-D Mmmm. Butch. I need to start collecting answers to that question that will make people double-take, even if I never get to use them… ;-D

J

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Stacy says:

Because men’s sizes don’t come to order? (tongue-in-cheek answer there!)



JB says:

LOL! I love it. 😀

“Because they don’t have ovaries. Silly human.” ;-D

J



[…] here, anyway!) My problem comes mostly in the form of language. Let me say this now: I love butch bodies. I don’t think that’s in doubt. ;-D DK and Q have very different butch bodies. DK is […]



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