Card Carrying Lesbian … What’s in your wallet?

When you realize you’re a lesbian ….

Posted on 13. Apr, 2009 by Sasha.

I’m in a constant state of awe at my total lack of self-awareness as far as figuring out I was a lesbian. I mean really, how could I not have figured out I was gay before the age of 24!?

I mean I could understand if I was bi. But I’m not. I’m just gay, I’m sooooooo gay it’s hard to fathom that it took me SO long to figure it out.

My girlfriend is one of the lucky ones, a lifer. She’s known her entire life since she was a little tomboy trying to impress all her older sister’s friends that she was a lesbian. Before she even knew the word for it, she knew what she was. God how I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self, “Hey don’t waste your time on him. It’s his sister you really want.”

I can’t help but try to imagine how different my life would have been if I had known back in high school when I started dating. How smooth I’d be with women by now if instead of honing my skills on the more brutish of the species I had spent that time sweet talking the ladies. I also wonder how many women I would have slept with by now. No doubt I would have been a huge slut and slept with every girl on my cheer squad, every girl on the basketball team and even a few on the softball team. Then by the time I got to college I’m sure I would have been nothing less then a total mac.

I even wonder how knowing so early would have affected my style. Would I have ended up more butch? More tomboi/sporty? Would I have pushed for those karate lessons I wanted so dearly in lieu of all those ballet classes I took for twenty years? Maybe if I had known I was a lesbian in my formative years I might not have ended up such a femme?

Hmmmm ….. I really wonder what affect it has on one’s identity within the lesbian community at what age you come out, at least to yourself. Do lesbians that know from an early age tend to be more butch? Are femmes girls that didn’t have a clue till after they had molded themselves into societies idea of a lady?

What do you think? Does knowing you’re gay early in life affect what type of lesbian you’re going to end up being? Or is a butch a butch and a femme a femme no matter when the proverbial light bulb goes off that says “Oh, I like girls!”

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Lesbian Housewives

Posted on 14. Feb, 2009 by Sasha.

I’m sure some of you have seen some of the comments a few readers have left me, indecent proposals I suppose. If I were single I’d be flattered, maybe a little worried since some of them have a bit of a stalker feel to them. But still flattering non the less.

Let’s take a look at some of the comments from my greatest hits list, shall we? [...]

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Butch/Femme relationships versus lesbian relationships

Posted on 24. Aug, 2008 by Sasha.

Now before you go and bite my head off yelling at me that butch/femme relationships are lesbian relationships let me tell you that I am well aware of that fact.

Having been involved in a butch/femme dynamic I am still wheeling from the stark differences between what it’s like to date a butch and what it’s like to simply date a self-identified lesbian.

I couldn’t help but notice all the similarities between a straight relationship and a butch/femme relationship. The pseudo gender roles of the fifties were strictly enforced under the guise of chivalry and these roles extended well into the bedroom. As the femme, I was supposed to know my place and in my place I wasn’t supposed to be able to open a jar of peanut butter or touch my lover anywhere other than where she said. Which by the way, was basically no where except to grab her hair when screaming her name or to lie in her arms afterwards.

Don’t get me wrong. I love butch women. I absolutely adore them! But in some ways, while dating them, I feel a bit cheated out of being a lesbian. I don’t get to please her, touch her, kiss her when I want to or buy her dinner once in a while. There are plenty of wonderful things that come along with dating butch girls. Men of today should take lessons from our butch sisters in how to treat a woman. There’s just something about having doors opened for you and generally being taken care of that gives me a warm, ummm ….. nice feeling if you get my drift. But in exchange for that, there is a price. To me that price was falling into a box where my role was “femme” and her role was “butch” and anything that threatened that delicate balance was grounds for a fight.

It’s been a while since I dated a woman that let me touch her, kiss her and walk her to her door. I forgot how nice it is to feel a woman, to taste her. I forgot how good it feels to make a girl weak in the knees when I kiss her neck or touch her just so. I recently started dating a girl that lets me kiss her goodnight and pay for a round of drinks. When I look at her body I’m reminded of how unbelievably gay I am and how glad I am that she’s okay with that! There aren’t any rules on who’s allowed to do what and when. We’re equal and both fully capable of taking care of ourselves and each other. So we sort of take turns being the dominant one or the girly one.

Granted, I think I’m still the femme in this situation. She’s a little more tomboi than I am and I like that. But when it comes down to it, I get to be a lesbian again and not a 1950’s housewife.

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Passive Butch vs. Aggressive Femme

Posted on 09. Jun, 2008 by Sasha.

I thought that when I started dating butch women that things would be easier, clearer in some ways. That perhaps some semblance of psuedo-gender roles might be in place, making it easier to navigate through the single scene if I knew who did what when.

But no such luck. Not only does it not clarify my role on the date it makes me so much more confused and left wondering, “What now?”

Apparently some butch or soft-butch women have very specific rules on who’s allowed to do what and when. Rules about who makes the first move, who pays, who opens doors. But what happens when the one who claims to be the aggressor isn’t that aggressive?

Leaving me, an alpha femme standing there waiting. Waiting for what? I’m not exactly sure anymore. But there’s something there that keeps me coming back for more. Maybe it’s the romantic idealization that I’ve created in my mind of what I thought the butch/femme dynamic would entail.  But reality and fantasy rarely meet in the harsh light of day.

Then at the same time a beautiful, aggressive femme walks into my life. Someone who easily steps into the role of suitor and knows all the right things to say and do. The contrast between these two women couldn’t be more stark. They are complete opposites in every way from one woman’s long luxurious locks to the other’s edgy, short haircut … which is part of what I love about both of them.

But the more I get to know both of these women the more I see what I already knew, but lost sight of for a moment. The outside package rarely tells the truth about what you’ll find once you unwrap it. Not that I’m complaining … I mean who doesn’t love a surprise?

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Do you choose the femme identity or does it choose you?

Posted on 03. May, 2008 by Sasha.

I was looking on Amazon for a book about the butch/femme dynamic and I saw a book called “Brazen Femme: Queering Femininity” and I was struck by something a reviewer wrote. What she said that caught my attention was:

“My femme friends who are also in their 30’s and I have discussed whether or not we are just jealous of femmes who are coming out now, as queer and femme all at once, whereas we mostly came out as queer and learned about femme later” (Melissa K. Heckman)

Before I even realized how gay I was, the few lesbian friends I did have had already classified me as a lipstick femme. So for me, coming out as a lesbian was simultaneous to coming out as a femme. But something about that label didn’t feel that accurate to me. Sure I wear lipstick and high heels. But I also fight train, love guns and take a total of 15 minutes or less to get ready for a night out.

To me, “Lipstick Femme” sounds like a high maintenance, girly girl who loves shopping and squeals at the sight of spiders. That is not me. I hate shopping unless it’s online or for ammo. I’m not afraid of spiders and I’m not the least bit high maintenance … despite what my ex’s may say.

I happen to be talking to a butch woman right now and while she does have some feminine traits, she’s definitely butch. In comparison to her I totally feel like I get pushed into the lipstick femme category. Not that she pushes me, it just sort of happens.

Lesbian relationships tend to be very fluid. My so called “role” will vary from girl to girl. If I date a femme who’s more femme than I am, than I tend to take the masculine role on instinctually. Which I’m not always comfortable with. But when dating a butch I find myself falling back to pre-feminist days and blushing when she wants to fight for my honor.

So my question is this: Do you choose your label or do others choose it for you? Fight as we may against labels and categories, you can’t deny that sometimes you find yourself using them, if as nothing more than convenient adjectives.

I’m of the opinion that while we may not be able to control how others label us, we can control how we define it for ourselves. So for me, at this moment in time? I’ll define a lipstick femme as a woman who is secure in her feminine sexuality, enjoys all the finer things in life but can still get down and dirty when she needs to … or wants to.

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