Apologies for participating in the derail, but I do want to comment on this. I'm dating a very butch woman who sometimes performs in female drag. Her drag personna feels a lot like a toughened up Diana Ross, but about a dozen sizes larger. Her personna wears wigs, heavy make-up, and sparkly dresses. The reason why everyone enjoys and understands the performance as drag is that her virile, masculine energy easily overwhelms any height of heel. Stereotypically feminine trappings only serve to accentuate her masculinity. That said, I don't think examining the ways in which butches may or may not choose to rock feminine drag is the purpose of the OP.

I'm really interested in how butches choose role models, especially while growing up. It must be extraordinarily complex. We're all bombarded with impossible ideals for feminine beauty, but for better or worse, there are virtually no media representations of butchness. How can/do butches, especially butches who grow up in relative isolation, make choices about how to present themselves? If that happens in isolation, it would seem like a minor miracle if eating disorders were not widespread amongst younger butches.

My own personal opinion...and mine alone
 

I am butch, I am female, I am a woman. I have never compared myself to males or used that as any sort of measuring stick for what butch is for me. Therefore I never come up short.

I do embrace masculinity- female masculinity. It is expressed through my energy, my appearance, my attitude and sense of self. It is a large part of being butch and who I am.

As to my body I would prefer not to have breasts, but I can live with it and do. Other than that I am quite fine with my female body.

First let me say. I speak ONLY for me and anything put down in this post refers ONLY to how I feel. I am not making blanket statements in anything I write here but only trying to lay out the experiences I have had.

I identify as butch/queer. I only identify because it helps OTHERS understand who I am. If I had a choice, I would like to identify as Chris but that's a whole different topic.

To me, the media is just downright evil when it comes to defining the human form whether masculine, feminine or other. How would it be if we all just lived in the dark? I wouldn't question my body or appearances because, well, what would I be comparing it to? I fully admit that commercialized beauty gets into my fragile little psyche and does a number on it. Do I want to look like an Adonis? Hell yes. Do I? Hell no. Do I care? Hell yes. Do I want to care? Absolutely not. It is a struggle. It is a daily struggle. It makes me feel superficial and shallow and I hate that.

There are days when I wake up and look in the mirror and think "there is NO way in HELL I'd show this body to anyone". Since I am not considering transitioning, I need to come to a happy compromise when it comes to what I "see" and what is real. For me, this is simply eating well, working out and keeping my body fit. Notice, I didn't say lean. I said fit. However, commercialized beauty will either send me under the blanket on the couch (there's now way I can measure up to society's expectations) or it motivates me back to the gym. This is a crap shoot on any given day and I tend to react both ways.

It's no wonder folks have eating disorders. I know for me, I choose my clothing wisely. I am actually quite anal about this. I buy only men's clothing and make sure that it makes my physique look masculine. Shopping for me is a chore and not a fun one. It takes a lot of trying on of clothes to make me happy. It can be depressing and makes me go to that "under the blanket place" pretty quickly. Especially when you finally find that brand that fits and they change it or discontinue it.

As far as what femmes expect? I can't answer that. But I do catch myself posturing and puffing out the chest sometimes. Does this help my cause? I have no idea. I'm sure I get more snickers than anything. The bottom line in my world is: everyone is different and well, not everyone is for everyone.

I am at a place in my life now where my body image is all about me. I need to be happy with how I look. Really, that's all that matters. I don't always get to that place but that's okay. I do believe that when I feel like I look like a million bucks (even if I just stepped off of a dirt pile) then others see that in me as well. Confidence does amazing things...just saying. :)

The overall sentiment that it's how we feel inside that defines us is the absolute truth. There is indeed someone for everyone.

Cheers,

Scoobs

Actually, you spoke quite well for me too. Thank you.

:balloon:

I read "The Well of Loneliness" in my early 20s and it changed my world. It was my first exposure to female masculinity and my first exposure to the butch/femme dynamic. Later on in life, maybe late 30s, I happened to cross paths with a very butch woman who ended up bring vast amounts of wisdom and insight to my life under the rock :)

52 years worth of process...so far...
 

ScubaDyke - I identify strongly with everything you said. You summed up my sentiments perfectly.

I've had pressure from a Femme because I wasn't big enough. I'm sorry but I'm not going to gain weight to make you feel more secure. I'm a small butch who can kick ass if I need too. ;)

it goes both ways at times
 

I had more to say, but no time to sit down and write it until now. :)

With regards to role models, I was a very boyish kid. When people asked me who I wanted to be when I grew up, my reply was always, "I want to be a man!" This scared some adults. :) I thought I wanted to transition, so I looked up to the men who I found honorable. I definitely viewed my dad in high regard and wanted to be just like him. He treated my mom well and instilled in me the ideals of being a gentleman. I also looked up to the leading men in old movies because they were well-dressed, polite, and surrounded by ladies.

When I was 20 years old, I read "Stone Butch Blues" and felt I had many similarities with the narrator, Jess. She was an inspiration; even though she was a character in a book, she made me feel like someone "got it." I felt very third-gendered; not quite a man and not quite a woman - Jess called herself a "he she" and I called myself a "dude chick."

Like the young Jess, I, too, had a couple older butches take me under their wing when I first moved to DC and immersed myself in the gay scene. They both saw bits and pieces of themselves in me and were happy to talk to someone young, green, and sincere. I did not see them as role models per se, but I deeply respected them and enjoyed swapping stories.

I also see Ivan E Coyote as an inspiration.

I dated and pursued a few girls when I was a teenager. Most of them were "straight," so I felt definite pressure to one-up bio men. I thought I could treat a girl better than most of the guys (both in and out of the bedroom), though I was deeply saddened that I couldn't grow a dick and do what guys could. Once I bought my first strap on at 18, that insecurity went away. ;) *Smirk*

I was sheltered from queer culture as a teen, so I found myself constantly asking, "Who would want someone like me?" and even crying about it. I was so excited when I discovered femmes. :D Having grown up around guys (weight lifting team in high school, was friends with all the jocks), I gained some of that typical guy mentality and wanted the hottest girl possible on my arm. In order to get the hottest girl possible, I put a lot of pressure on myself to look very good, too.

I have since realized the grave importance of intellectualism (sure, beauty and brains are both important, but an intelligent mind is what will keep me around). That is simply part of growing up. I have also gotten my fair share of compliments on the way I look, which made me feel compelled to keep things nice. The compliments have been a huge turnaround from what I was used to while growing up. I was pushed down the stairs in middle school for being an "ugly boy" and ridiculed throughout my youth for being different. The insults to my physical appearance as a kid scarred me. Frankly, I was not ugly. No. I was just different.

People fear what they do not understand.

Amen to both statements!!

Fucking, AMEN!!!! I love this post!

Acceptance
 

first, let me say how much i have enjoyed these posts. a lot of common ground regarding our paths that have led to self-acceptance.

i too wanted to be a boy. from my earliest memories i was begging my parents for more masculine clothes, boy toys, to cut my hair shorter. i even wore my brother's suit for picture day in second grade. i was very fortunate to have parents that indulged my interests and was given a carpentry set and all sorts of tools, fishing / hunting equipment, bicycles, motorcycles, b-ball, etc from the age of 5. my dad would tell me if i could kiss my elbow i would turn into a boy. i struggled with that contortion.

when it comes to butch energy i believe that is spot on...alive and well. i'm androgyneous. and physically have been able to live as a butch and a femme. now note and i will say again that's physically as a femme. and i did so in my late 20s into my mid-30s because i believed it would help me assimilate more in the corporate world. i grew my hair out, i wore skirts, make-up, earrings. i attracted a lot of butches, i had men try to carry my luggage for me at the airport, etc. but i still had the swagger / mannerisms that conflicted with what people saw and what they sensed about me. if i approached a ticket agent and she had her head down to the computer, she would always say, "how my i help you, sir?" then look up and gulp. i didn't look like a man in drag. i was a beautiful woman. the butch energy just exudes from me.

1997 rolled around. i found myself living in LA with a partner that loved my dichotomy but struggled with her own sexuality and outness. i said fuck all this, shaved my head clean and headed out on my bicycle for a 6-week sabbatical. after 3 weeks i was itching to get back to work...and my head itched under my bandana because my hair was growing out. i haven't ever looked back. i keep my hair short and dress as myself in a butch corporate kind of way. no longer do i focus on being so much a success there as i concentrate on being the best me i can be. don't get me wrong, i still strive to do a great job at work. i don't identify "success" with my job as the target i'm trying to hit any longer. i want my personal happiness and acceptance to be that.

Can I Help You, Sir?
 

"Can I help you, sir?" For so many years this question tumbled from the mouths of those who did not know me. I thought this question came only because they were looking at my height, and the substance of me, and not the whole of me. Surely it could not be that they truly thought I was a man. Yes, I was 6’ tall and lean with shoulders wider than hip. Yes, I had short hair. Yes, I wore men’s clothing and shoes. Was this all it took to be thought a male?

Quickly hunching over in effort to pull my breasts into me, dropping my voice down as many octaves as possible, I attempted to become the man my addresser thought me to be. Without making eye contact, I would hurry to the sanctity of the exit, as I muttered, “just looking". More often than not, they stood staring at me, confused, before apologizing and falling all over themselves to correct their mistake. This only made it worse. I hated myself, as well as the angst and confusion being me, seemingly caused others.

I knew were I to open my mouth to speak, were I to look them squarely in the eye, they would see the error of their way. I knew it would be uncomfortable for them. Why did I care if this person, whom I did not know, was made to feel uncomfortable? It was not my issue after all. It would fall on their shoulders right? They were the ones that did not “see” me. Did not take the time to “see” the woman that stood before them. So many years I blamed others. It took me so very long to understand that they DID “see” me. It was I who did not “see” myself. It was I that was uncomfortable. It saddens me to admit, I performed this on the spot transformation, because I was ashamed and embarrassed. I did this because I did not know then, that is was not only alright to be me, but that being me was something special, and rare.

I can not blame my struggle with my “butchitude” (as I would come to call it) on not knowing any other like me. I can not blame it on the ignorance of others. The struggle was mine. I did not trust that being who and what I was, was alright. It was not until I met, what I was to learn was a “femme”, that I came to know the dynamic I needed in order to realize complete love and acceptance. It was enlightening and life-altering. My person, and my ability to express it, became part of me, and I reveled in it. I felt the personal freedom to no longer hide the masculine essence that was so much a part of me. I embraced it, and it changed my world.

She was the one that helped me understand that not only was I worthy of being loved just as I am, but because of it. And to think, I almost walked away from her because I felt being with me might cause her public embarrassment. My struggle might have lingered, had this beautiful woman not seen me, had not said to me “Listen, you idiot, get over yourself and do it right now! I knew when I got with you people would know I was queer, and for the first time in my life, I don’t care and you shouldn‘t either”.

That statement alone, allowed me to accept who and what I was. It afforded me the ability and the understanding to just be. It gifted me with the confidence to revel in my masculine energy. It gave me happiness and self-acceptance.

Gone are the days of sucking in my chest, of speaking in some distorted voice in effort to appease the comfort levels of others. Butch did not mean I had to be, or was, a man, It did not mean I was not meant to be in my body. I am a butch woman and masculine energy pours forth from within me. It is palpable, and truthfully, it kinda makes me feel desirable. It seems so easy now, being butch. I spent a lot of years struggling internally, but here I sit today, proudly proclaiming, I am butch…I am me.