To The FemmeMobile! Away!











{September 10, 2011}   I kissed a girl, too!

You know that song by Katy Perry, “I Kissed a Girl and I Liked It”? Well, I remember when it came out — IĀ  hadn’t quite come out more than to kinda sorta mentioned I might maybe be bi — and seriously, I was so terrified of the ridicule it received.

First off, I really liked the song. I still do! But second off, there was this idea (among lesbians, I should clarify, or at least the lesbians I knew) that to experiment like that was Wrong. That it was Terrible and Offensive to kiss a girl and like it. That the character in the song was just Faking It and making light of lesbianism.

I was terrified of being that girl. That was one of the biggest reasons it took me SO LONG to come out, because without experimenting I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t want to be the girl who said she was bi and experimented and realized it wasn’t for her. I was scared shitless of being a poser! (The other reason it took me so long to come out was a lack of butch people around. I think I’d have figured it out earlier if I’d seen some hot butches earlier!)

I love that song now more than ever. Maybe the character in the song was just doing it for attention. (Though I’d have to argue that her boyfriend doesn’t seem to be present… so it’s not his attention she’s trying to get, and presumably if she has a boyfriend she’s not looking for another.) Maybe the character in the song kisses that one girl, likes it, goes back to her boyfriend and never crosses that line again. Maybe that girl kisses a girl, likes it, goes home and dumps her boyfriend and realizes she’s lesbian. It’s all good! What’s actually happening in the song, after all?

Experimentation.

Except for a lucky, and precious, few we all have to experiment to figure out what we like and don’t like. We all have to try things on before we know what fits. That song told me it was okay to try things on, and I love it. It makes me sad when I hear people bash it as a girl getting attention — which is what I hear most of the time. I don’t think she is. I think she’s learning about herself!

Thinking about it a little more, I also wonder about the homophobic reactions to the song. I mean, if people are angry at hearing the song because she kissed a girl and liked it, how much of that is just being disturbed at the gayness of it? Hmmm.

I remember there being massive feminist reactions, too, that she was only kissing girls to get the boys attention. While I do know girls who do that, the fact that the feminist section of my friends assumed only that was kind of hurtful. What, she couldn’t be experimenting? Apparently not. She could only be doing it for men. Yeesh, what a thing to say.

Hmm, now I’m not sure how to wrap this up. Look! Ponies!

JB

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{April 1, 2011}   It’s all about the smile

Something really cool has happened over the last few weeks, maybe even months. It happened really slowly, so I didn’t notice it at first. And initially, it only happened in safe spaces. Then toward stereotypes. But the other day it happened while I was walking a Great Dane (is there anything more femme than a blue Dane with a bright pink

This is not Bentley, but it sure looks like her!

collar complete with fancy ribbon and crystal-studded ID? I THINK NOT. She’s owned by a very straight woman, but damn I feel femme when I take her out.)

Anyway, the very awesome thing is this: I’m flirting! Like I did to boys before I came out (to myself), which is to say that it comes as naturally as breathing.

At first, it was to women I knew were lesbian, at gay bars and gay two-stepping and so on. Then it was to the people in my (very gay) town, the ones I could identify as masculine-ID’d. Then to the stereotypical dykes. But the other day I was walking down the street with Bentley and her bling collar, when I saw a cute woman sitting on a bench, reading. Before I knew quite what I was about, I’d pulled myself up and given her that knee-jerk saucy grin I use whenever I’m flirting without necessarily meaning to.

She didn’t look up. But that’s not the point! The point is that a few months ago I would have been worried about flirting with strange women, because god forbid I offend or give the wrong signals, even if that’s just another sign of cultural homophobia. But now, I’m flirting without thinking twice about it, grinning at women just to see if they’ll grin back! I’m totally interested in Q, and the flirting wouldn’t go anywhere, but… well, it really is as natural as breathing, and it makes everyone feel good.

I can’t help it. I’m a flirt. *laughs* It’s coded right into my DNA, I tell you! And now I’m no longer worried or anxious or anything about flirting with random women, which makes me feel fabulous! Plus, how could I not flirt when I have Bentley? She’s like, femme personified. šŸ˜‰

J



{March 24, 2010}   Touch and Go

Life has been a bit touch and go for me, here. I don’t know why, but there’s annoyance right there at the surface, and it keeps sort of… rising. Not in a “I’m so PISSY” sort of way, but in a, “…Alpha wolf is getting annoyed,” sort of way, which is both healthier for me and more dangerous for the folks around me. I notice it in the fact that I’m cursing more, that my warrior streak is sort of constantly right there under my skin, that I’m taking no shit at all from people of late. Which isn’t to say I’m being a bitch, but is to say that I’m awfully good at smiling and putting the smackdown.

I think it ties in with sex.

The more I play around with Q, the more she encourages and supports and pushes and just shows me how to have fun, the more I’m teasing and confident and reclaiming a part of myself I hadn’t realized was really that damaged.

Here’s what I’m finding amazing: it’s more than just sex. It’s more than being able to say, “Touch here, suck there, I want…” (which, uh, I still have problems saying BUT I’M GETTING THERE!). I’ve talked before about how being able to make people look at me is a power trip. What I hadn’t realized was that I was still hamstrung; I could make people look from a distance, but there was always a concern at the back of my mind. What if they took me up on the offer? Ohgod. I was always walking around with one stray thought paying attention to how I would get out of any particular sexual jam. (Such as, what if someone made a sexual comment? What if someone wanted to talk about their sex life and expected me to talk, too? OH NO THE HUMANITY.)

Now… I’m not. Or I am but much less — that’s probably more accurate. šŸ˜‰ And it’s like I’ve dropped ten feet of anchor chain. Suddenly, I can stand up straight. I don’t have to remember to hold it up, it means I can take on things I couldn’t take on before because now I have the energy to do it. I’m not spending half my energy looking for an escape.

I used to think to myself that, when I got over this sexual thing, I couldn’t wait to meet myself. Well, I’m meeting myself, and I like me. My edges are sharper than they need to be, but that’s okay. I’ll re-learn how to be a slightly more gentle person, but now I have the strength to continue to back myself.

It’s not all there, by any means. But — wow. I have the distinct feeling that I don’t have to take shit from anyone, and it makes me feel slightly invincible.I am becoming the force to be reckoned with I always suspected I’d be. It’s a little terrifying. Time to work on developing some extra compassion so I don’t just bowl people over. šŸ˜‰

In only slightly related news, Bond mentioned a strap-on in passing, which made me think of sex. Actually, everything makes me think of sex.

DK: So, I got my hair cut the other day–

Me: Hmm. Q’s hair is too short to grab during SEX.

Nezu: You want to get together Friday?

Me: Friday. What am I doing Friday? I dunno but Thursday I’m having SEX. Last Friday I think I was having SEX, too.

G: So, Swoon List–

Me: Sex sex sex sex sex sex sex

Bobby Da Bird: Chirp!

Me: Ha ha ha ha, he totally wolf-whistled at Q’s ass the other day in the middle of SEX, which made her laugh really hard. Oh, man. That sex was really great.

Even in the middle of sex. Q: What are you thinking about?

Me: …I was just mentally gloating over my awesome sex with a really hot butch. >.>

Okay, so granted, I think about sex on a regular basis anyway. But these days I’m constantly horny, due in no small part to the fact that Q keeps calling and texting me and saying things that make me horny. Which — oh, man. We keep talking about sex stuff. Not only the sex we’re having, but the different things we like and ways we look at it.Ā  (Under the cut? More SEX!)

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{January 18, 2010}   Ah, the things we learn…

So, some history. I knew I was bi years ago, but didn’t do anything about the female aspect of bi because I was so rarely attracted to females. Then I found butch, and BAM, attraction hits. LIKE A SEMI. Anyway, all this is still very new to me (as you may have picked up on…), and I’m still figuring things out.

But what I find most interesting, is the attitudes that I’m only just realizing I have, thanks to my femme/butch realization. Two of them have cropped up recently, and both are being dealt with, but it’s still fascinating to see that I have these assumptions.

The first happened when I was driving around one day — home from my last client, I believe — and I was thinking about how what I really wanted was a roomful of butch women, so that I could just flit from one to the next and flirt shamelessly. I like flirting shamelessly. ;-D Dress cute, tip my head, toss my hair, bat my eyelashes, attempt the “No, really, I’m innocent. Wanna check? I see a secluded corner…” look. In thinking this, I realized that I’m mourning the inability to do that, now.

Which got the sane part of my mind going, “…you can still do that. They’re women, not dead.

And the not-sane part of me went, “No I can’t. You don’t do that with women.”

Sane: Sure you can. Why not? It’s still flirting.

Not-Sane: Because you don’t. Women don’t flirt like that.

Sane: How do you know? How many lesbian bars have you gone to, hmmm?

Not-Sane: Just — just– shuddup! Men are supposed to look and they’re allowed to leer and flirt back and appreciate when you doll up and do the come-hither things, and women don’t!

Sane: *GASP!* You’re SEXIST!

Not-Sane: I am not!

Sane: YOU TOTALLY ARE. You have completely bought into the sexist belief that men are “allowed” to objectify you and look and leer at you and you’re expected — even supposed — to flit around and flirt and encourage it! And that women aren’t supposed to leer and look and appreciate!

Not-Sane: …I hate you right now.

Sane: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Not-Sane: I just don’t want to flirt with all those women and lead them on when I know damn well I’m not attracted to most of them, and I’m doing it all for the one butch in the corner.

Sane: You do that in a roomful of guys you aren’t attracted to.

Not-Sane: That’s different. And don’t start with the sexist thing again!

Sane: *whistles*

Not-Sane: The men expect that I’ll do it and not nesicarily be attracted to them, as long as I don’t lead them on!

Sane: *whistles*

Not-Sane: I hate you like cancer. Besides, the guys like to look and the girls probably just get annoyed.

Sane: Now you’re a mind reader, huh?

Not-Sane: I’m just saying, it’s not part of what’s done — don’t you start with the bar statement again — and most of the lesbian women probably won’t appreciate it. The vast majority of guys at least enjoy looking at me — it’s eye candy, and I know that and I’m happy with it — but the lesbians probably won’t unless they’re attracted to femme women.

Sane: …hm. You could be right on that one. But then, you could say the same about men — only the ones that like your type are attracted to you.

Not-Sane: WHAT?! What do you mean not everyone is attracted to me? *sad*

Sane: What do you care? You’re not attracted to them, either!

Not-Sane: *sad*

So, anyway, this is where I ended my mental conversation.Ā  Then last night I was talking to my friend, K (who is a psychologist, and has done quite a bit of work with GLBTQ folk), and I told her about this (well, except the bit about being sad at not being attractive to EVERYONE! That, I’ll just have to get over. ;-D). I talked a bit about feeling like it was okay with men, in part because that’s what society has taught me and in part because I feel like lesbian women do things differently — maybe also because of society, but maybe because they feel differently, or maybe I’m totally wrong about that assumption, who knows? — and how I didn’t want to bother or bug other people with my flirtiness.

She had some great advice for me! She pointed out that I wasn’t trying to attract those women who wouldn’t be interested in that, and if my goal was to attract a butch woman who WAS interested in someone like me, I should present myself just exactly the way I was comfortable — flirty and all. That if the person I’m attracted to is likely to be attracted to my flirty, femme self, then I should be my flirty, femme self and not worry! That I should tone down the flirting with the ones I wasn’t interested in, sure, and maybe I can make friends with them, but I can slide from flirty to not and back again, and that I shouldn’t try to not flirt because I think it’s not done. The person I’m trying to attract –someone who is attracted to femmes, and me — will respond to my being femme, and me.

I think I knew all that on some level, but it was good to hear it summed up neatly for me (it was much neater than I just typed it out). So that was good. šŸ˜€

Also when I was talking to K last night, I had another one of those realizations about my attitudes. We were talking, and I was waxing rhapsodic about butch women, and she tipped her head and said, “So, are you attracted to transgendered people?” And the answer is very much, “Yes, to transgendered women,” and that’s what I said, but I had to stop and think about it for a minute.

My emotional reaction was, “NO! That’s shallow!” But when I stopped and thought about it, I realized it’s no more shallow than saying, “I’m attracted to men.” And it’s true, to boot! And still I felt, “But… that’s just wrong.” So I had to think about that for a minute, and realized… well, I’m not sure exactly what I realized, except that my head is crazy and I need to shed the belief that that’s “wrong”. Which didn’t take me long, as soon as I pointed out to myself that it’s no more “wrong” than being attracted to men. ;-D

So! Interesting stuff. Learning new things every day. Ahhh, my crazy brain, I love it. šŸ˜€

J



{January 7, 2010}   Baby butch: 1 Me: 0

I saw a baby butch today. I’ve been at D-world for 3 days now, and she’s the first butch I’ve seen. Because I tend to be oblivious when it comes to men (because I never realized I wasn’t as attracted to them or because I’m just oblivious? I have no idea…), and because as a femme I worry about being invisible to the butch gentlewomen I’m attracted to (even though they say otherwise), I figure I’d better get better at giving the same flirty smile to them as I’ve gotten used to giving to men.

I’m always afraid that I’ll misjudge, and give a straight woman a flirty smile. I remember when my friend Ashlan (who is very straight) cut her hair short, everyone started asking her if she was gay. It drove her nuts. I don’t want to add to that. šŸ˜›

Anyway, I didn’t gather the courage I needed today to give the butch woman a flirty smile. I tried to catch her eye, but she was looking elsewhere. Still, she was adorable and I enjoyed the eye candy. Very short, curly black hair with crystal blue eyes. One ear was pierced with silver hoops all the way up, and she was wearing lots of black. It’s cold out; other than ‘my height but stockier’ I didn’t see a body type, but I didn’t really care. I had that total gut-tug that makes me think ‘butch.’

And then I think, “What if I’m wrong?” and I get halfway paralyzed. *sighs* If I don’t have the guts to make myself seen, what then? I think it is, in part, a matter of practice. I caught myself giving this random table of men a saucy grin earlier, for no reason other than they were sitting there. I’m lucky enough to naturally have the body our society deems ‘right,’ (going to the gym doesn’t hurt…) and I know people consider me attractive. I take it as a given, now, that I can give a table of men a saucy smile, and even if they’re all gay men they’ll at least laugh. I’m not nearly so confident with women. I think it’s latent homophobia; it’s okay to assume someone’s straight (ie, the table of men), but not gay (ie, that woman I think is probably butch). Which means… I have something new to work through. Oh joy. šŸ˜‰ At least, if I’ve identified it, working through it will be quick.

Of course, part of it too is simply insecurity. I don’t know this world, how to send signals or how to receive them. Even in the straight world I tended to just send signals out, and hope someone picked up — I generally failed at receiving them. Frankly, if I can just get back to sending signals out (but are they the right signals? AGH, I don’t know!) I’d be happy.

OTOH, I’m damn good at the teasing grin/saucy smile. Maybe I’ll just go back to tossing it around indiscriminately and get myself in more trouble and see if that works. Some days, I wish I were more high-femme. Then, at least, I would be more obvious. Alas, jeans, edgy hair and snug T-shirts are my uniform of choice, though I’ve added dresses and some other things to my repertoire. Still, it’s not 50’s retro high heels and petticoats… Hopefully the people I’m looking for will see me anyway. >.<

J



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