I know, I know. I am anything but consistent with this blog. Mostly because my other blog, which I created under my real name gets all the love and attention.
No, no, that’s bullshit. It doesn’t matter why I’ve been gone. What matters is I’m here now. (?)
Today I want to rant about butches.
Before I dive in, please know that I understand not all butches ar the same. There is no label that properly fits. This is not a one-size-fits-all thing. That’s the whole point I’m trying to make. Heck, by the end of this post, you might argue I am butch. Or a tomboy. I hate when I’m described that way, but that’s the label the world has decided to stick me with… As though I’d ever want to give up my boobs and vadge for a penis. Nope. No thanks. If you’re talking about getting rid of periods entirely, or at least working it out so even if I have to sit on a toilet bowl a whole day, it would be over, then yeah, let’s talk.
If you met me, you’d think it would be totally hypocritical of me to be ranting about butches. And I wouldn’t blame you. For one thing, no matter how much I try, my inner butch comes out. It’s funny I say inner butch, because I do not feel like a butch, even though I kinda look like one. Wide shoulders, uneven step, but that’s about it, I swear. I’m as girlie on the inside as Blossom of the Power Puff Girls. My inner pink game is strong. Okay… I just re-read that, and it sounds wrong on so many levels, that I have decided not to delete it. If you totally missed what just happened, here’s a clue: Kegels. Now re-read. You’re welcome.
Back to what I was ranting about. Butches, butches, butches. I am not a butch! I hate that there even has to be a label for anything to begin with. Can’t we all just gay-ly get along without the labels? So I favour male clothing, not because I want to look like a guy, but because it’s just comfortable as fuck. Have you tried on briefs? Boy shorts? Beyond comfortable. I have those. I also have thongs and sexy lingerie and all. Now, anyone who knows me would probably do a doubletake at that sentence. But that’s my whole point! The damn labels! I hate them! I don’t exactly fit.
I met a few butches not too long ago. It was cool. Because YAY LESBIANS! We’re family. We gatsta stick together, n’ahm sayin’?
Anyhoo, they were really cool. Except they kept calling me bro. Why? Why??? I died a little inside. I badly wanted to let them know I am not a bro. That in facct, my ultra-femme girlfriend wears the dildo more often than not. That I have as a matter of fact twerked for her. That Ipaint my nails when it suddenly hits me that I want to. That I have a slew of multicolored thongs. That damn it, there is an uber-femme inside of me!
But I couldn’t say all that. So they kept bro-ing me. And I was just like… “Smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.”
Next thing to rant about – they all seemed to really hate men. I mean, really, REALLY despise them. Am I a lesbian? Yes. Gold star. But for the life of me, I do not recall reading in the lezzie code that I’m supposed to hate men. I get that I can’t possibly feel certain things for them, no mater how hard I tried (more on that later) but seriously, hating men? I wouldn’t be here, if my daddy hadn’t decided he liked my mother enough to stuff a weener in the middle of her doughnut. Oh, I’m sorry… Was I unnecessarily crass? Good. That’s what I was going for. I also have brothers, male friends, male cousins, awesome gay male friends, straight male friends… So, pardon me, “bros”, but I really don’t see why I should hate another human being simply because he has a penis in between his legs.
Another thing I have noticed – and this is weird as fuck – I could be at the mall, and I see two females together, one very butch and very handsy with the other. I get all happy and giddy inside. Why? I’m in Nigeria. Same love is not something condoned. It’s illegal, and frowned upon as immoral by the very hypocritical society we live in. So when I see an obvious lesbian couple, I do a little jig and give a fist bump on the inside. On the outside, I just glance briefly, and give a knowing, encouraging smile. But what do I usually get in return? That butch glare. The one that says “Yeah, I see you. Look sideways at my girl and I will Jackie Chan your ass from here to gay-kingdom come.”
Why? Butch please. I was not trying to snag your girl. I’m very happy with mines, thank-yuh-verrah-much. Can’t we just acknowledge each other and be like, oh, I see you, sistah, (or bro? ick) Keep doing your thing! Can’t we all just get along? No? Oh. My bad.
Next, I noticed them butches grabbing their crotches. Why? What’s in there? Whatchu packing? Just… WHY? Is it itchy? Is that a stylish way to scratch your hoohah? Your pants too big? What? What in the gay-jesus hell is going on in there? You know what, something tells me I really don’t want to know.
Then there’s the non-existent beard stroking. Daffuq?
I read somewhere that my type of “butch” is called a futch. I don’t wanna be that. Really. Can’t I just be a girl who likes comfy clothes and shoes and very uncomplicated hair-dos? No. Next thing I know, these butches were asking me why I wore my hair the way I did, and why I wore skinny jeans, and wtf, is that lipstick?
And then the final straw, was when they started talking abot ladies like they werre no more than objects. Referring to women they knew or had been with as bitches. Talking crassly about sexual encounters. i had to stop and ask myself if all of this was really okay, and I’m really the most prudish of prudes. I thought long and hard.
No. Not a prude. Just courteous. The way I see it, I’d hate it if some one talked about or to me like a whore or something, so why would I do that to anyone else? Not me at all.
Unable to say much without coming off as a judgmental, condescing, prick of a virgo, I decided to do the more mature thing: to come here, and rant to total strangers about it all.
Again I say, I’m pretty sure not all butches (if youfit that label) are the same. I’m just saying… Well, I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying anymore.
Next post, I will address femmes. Because, dammit, femmes! Ugh! :p