i know you're talking to julie but...
 

i've wondered if this is due, in part, to a hetero-normative belief that some queer women "want to be men". i think back to the butches and transguys i know who were forced into feminine roles as younger persons? there are so many perceptions of "female", "femme", "feminine", "femininity", etc and gender presentation is so infinite and fluid...damn...now i'm rambling. you're stretching my brain again Bit...



ditto. i dont say that they cant be considered separately or that one is wholly dependent on the other for me...but one certainly feeds my deeply personal satisfaction in the other.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Bit (Post 24023) I'm not certain how to answer you articulately... I was SO squashed before I came out, and it was only the power of wild lust that drove me to take a chance on loving a woman. There was nothing intellectual about THAT decision, no analysis; I didn't even have the language to understand a discussion like we're having today. Hell, I couldn't even admit that I was a Lesbian for years. When I finally got over the "I'm not a lesbian; I just happened to fall in love with a woman" phase, I stayed stuck in the "I must be bisexual" phase for a couple more years. So for me, being Femme and being a sexual being, they are tied so tightly together that they're the same thing. For me, sexuality is part of femininity and I cannot see how I could be a Femme in any other way.

while i didnt have the same experience with phases...when i came out i came like i was spring loaded and have never considered myself bi-sexual...i used the word "lesbian" because i had to. there was no word (that i knew of) for how i felt. hell, i couldnt even define who i felt i was because, like you, my vocabulary and language was constrained by my limited life experiences. "lesbian" was the only word i knew. i no longer consider myself a "lesbian". i am a femme. i cant always explain that in words but there's a pit of my stomach understanding that tells me i've hit personally relevant pay dirt.

i think everyone is a sexual being, even the celibate. they simply choose to do something different with that piece of their humanity than i do. sexuality and my personal choices in sexual expression are inseparable from the creature that is "ME". perhaps the confidence, the comfort in my own skin, the "rightness" i feel with regard to being a sexual being is exponentially supported and enhanced by the same confidence, comfort and rightness of being a femme. the defining details of "woman", "lesbian", "genderqueer", "butch", "femme", and etc (no offense/limitations to expression meant by stopping the list there...it's just that it could go on forever) may be subtle to some and screamingly obvious to others.

we each compile our own vocabulary of self-definition based on internal and external experience and environment, and we learn more as we go on ~being~ . as we acknowledge new experiences the defining words and concepts we use come into focus or change, for some of us they change radically. (as an example, i didnt know that being a transensual femme was an option in life until i was in my mid to late 30s. my understanding of the world and experiences with it didnt include the language for the physiological knowledge i felt. my brain didnt comprehend what my cells understood completely.) i dont think that focusing experience ever stops. it just becomes more subtle as we age and come into our authentic selves.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Bit (Post 24023) BUT certainly I am not a sexual being like the stars of pop culture are; to begin with, their image of sexuality is my image of famine, so I'm stymied at the get-go.

(laughing) DITTO

Quote:

Originally Posted by Bit (Post 24023) Does any of this even make sense or am I rambling like crazy here?

not only do you make sense...your rambling makes hella sense.

damn. you're good...

i'm in high dudgeon at the mo' so excuse me. the fact that any of you amazing women has been shoved into the "less than" dressing room to find some culturally artificial (and not even decently tailored in order to actually be personal) shame to wear is pissing me off! :rant:

Gemmie-poo...like Medusa, Arwen, Diva and Bit...to me you're already so damn beautiful in words...i'm afraid of having to wear sunglasses in order to merely hang out with you. so let's drag that freakin' mirror down here to eye level. i'll get the step stool, you find the dust rag and we'll just haul it down and see what's so darn scary.

and for that reason, if no other, we should all be writing fairy tales that include the plain/ugly/nerdy/genderqueer/fat/or whatever sister kicking ass, taking names, falling in love only if she damn well feels like it, and living happily ever after.


just sayin'

Hey darlin! I'm so glad you joined the convo!

What you said right up there is SO true for me about SO many things.... now that I think about it, though, I have words for most of the places in my life. It's here, discussing the gender and Femme parts of my life, that I run out of words and lose my ability to articulate my thoughts... maybe we're all pioneers in this discussion, forging a new trail through the language.
Ooops. I wasn't clear enough. I meant that I personally did not have the option to acknowledge myself as a sexual being before I discovered my first partner; I came out of an abusive childhood almost completely squashed and controlled. So for me, adulthood, emancipation, sexuality, being a Lesbian, being a Femme--they all exploded into freedom at once the year I turned 23. That's why I personally cannot actually separate being sexual (whether I do anything with or about it or not) from being Femme.

I've enjoyed your posts. Thanks for the validation that I hadn't lost it after all... tea is being consumed, the brain is waking up.... :cheesy:

snip
I dunno Julie... I will say frankly that sex and being Femme are inescapably entwined for me; I personally cannot be who I am as a Femme without acknowledging myself as a sexual being... if I weren't a sexual being, what would differentiate me from, say, a nun?

Well, okay, so I don't obey very well, lol... I would just have to be the Abbess or something. Mother Top. :eyebat:

I'm not certain how to answer you articulately... I was SO squashed before I came out, and it was only the power of wild lust that drove me to take a chance on loving a woman. There was nothing intellectual about THAT decision, no analysis; I didn't even have the language to understand a discussion like we're having today. Hell, I couldn't even admit that I was a Lesbian for years. When I finally got over the "I'm not a lesbian; I just happened to fall in love with a woman" phase, I stayed stuck in the "I must be bisexual" phase for a couple more years.

So for me, being Femme and being a sexual being, they are tied so tightly together that they're the same thing. For me, sexuality is part of femininity and I cannot see how I could be a Femme in any other way.

BUT certainly I am not a sexual being like the stars of pop culture are; to begin with, their image of sexuality is my image of famine, so I'm stymied at the get-go.

Does any of this even make sense or am I rambling like crazy here? I think I have to go make some tea and get caffeinated... well, anyhow, thank you for responding, Julie, and for your insights about what society promotes these days. I appreciate it.
[/QUOTE]

I was not being clear here. I not feminine or a femme for someone else's pleasure. I own my sexuality now and it is not caught up and attached to a idealistic, stylized version of the sexy straight woman. I did not come out for a partner. I came out for ME. I told my family and all those close to me that I was gay before I had ever met a butch face-to-face. I don't feel confined anymore by straight sexuality, practices or presentation. So to me being a femme is so much more than just who I sleep with or my orientation.

Tea is good!!! My beverage of choice.

:cheesy:

:present:

I just want to say thank you to every one of you amazing contributors to this thread. There's so much substance here to take in, process, respond to.

I, too, have felt that there was a femme hierarchy and that "high femmes" (I really don't like that expression. I have heard the "low femme" term, applied by others and as self-labeling, but never in a flattering way.) were on top and I was somewhere much closer to the bottom. My reinforcement for that idea has mostly been from butches, but I've moved on. I decided part of the point (for me) of having the "queer" be part of my identity was what it implied to me about getting to make my own rules. I may or may not be anyone else's idea of what femme ought to be, but I am damn good at being me.

For me, femme is my gender identity, although that is big enough to encompass "woman" and "girl" and "female" as well. You can't take my femme away from me, regardless of what I wear or what I'm doing at any given time. I've been known to wear skirts, dresses, heels, but it's a form of drag for me. I mostly live in jeans or other casual pants (not athletic gear outside unless I am engaging in athletic activity or my house is burning down) and low-heeled boots, mules, sandals. I find that I get more external reinforcement for wearing the feminine drag, from strangers as well as friends and lovers. I've witnessed straight women being rewarded or punished socially for the way they choose to perform femininity as well. I've never considered only dressing up to go to a bar if I was partnered, though, nor do I know that anyone has considered me competition since tenth grade or so.

It saddens me that so many of us have been the victims of vicious femme sisters insecure in themselves and needing to cut us down to make themselves feel superior. I only know of three times in my life that I've been specifically targeted for ugly gossip, once by my (family of origin) sister and twice by masculine queers, and those were rough enough and femmes did participate in the feeding frenzy. If anyone still believes that I hoard man-jocks or am a coke fiend, well, I don't know what to tell you. PM me the juicy bits. :brainsucker: Seriously, though, I avoid those I find to be gossips (in offline life), because I don't like to be around that energy. I find it ugly and draining.

Well said, labete. I was thinking as I was reading your post that for every horror story (and I've got them too) about femme "friends," I have 10 kumbaya stories about femme friends.

Truth is, other femmes just "get it" in a way that no one else does. Other femmes get the fierceness, the invisibility, the "am I femme enough," and the endurance tests of our loves.

Medusa,
I think You say so much of what some of us are feeling here I just had to repeat is, as blush did.

Similar to Your story, I was nervous about going to a big ol' "family party" in 2007 in Dallas. I was looking forward to meeting everyone, but once they saw me, what would they think THEN? Right?

One of the most empowering things for me ~ and there were 3 things that weekend that DID give me a great deal of personal power ~ was hearing Your letter to Your Mama, Medusa, during the spoken word segment of the cabaret deal. I remember all the pieces of paper....I remember being mesmerized by Your passion, Your fierceness. And I remember thinking, "Gimme some~a THAT!" because I was intoxicated by that fierce passion!!! Here was this big, beautiful bombshell beauty who was "screaming" about her heart's desires.

And it was during Your letter in spoken word that I fell in love with Medusa.

What did You DO with those bits of paper? I hope to that Wire Sculpture 'Dusa that You have it in a safe place. It should be in every Femme Manual.........jus' sayin'......

:bowdown:

[QUOTE=Arwen;30633][FONT=Georgia][SIZE=3][COLOR=Purple]

Then I could look within and say that in this situation, I will be more like Pup. And in this other one, I will don my Blush armor. Or I will use the voice of Medusa and the passion of Gemme. Or that I will love my partner like e.


DITTO... and smart like Arwen....

Very good point, blush. I have to admit, though, that it took me a long time to get comfortable with femme friends, and a lot of what got me there was this community, these people, you. Y'all can be intimidating as hell for someone who's trying to stake out her space inside the femme identity, and the ones who aren't somewhat intimidating generally also aren't interesting (to me, in their online personas). I mean, yeah, I actually do have a drawer full of cute socks with stripes or spots or flowers or whatever on them, but I don't really want to discuss them. I want to talk about inhabiting femme and supporting butch and growing as a person and current events and queer parenting challenges and such and occasionally lolcats or shopping or work. So I had to get past these negative internal judgements telling me I wasn't "femme enough" or pretty enough or hadn't read enough gender theory or otherwise just wasn't up to snuff among all these intelligent, beautiful, fierce, wise femmes.

Arwen, this makes me sad, and at the same time glad you are inspired to change your perspective. For the longest time, I really didn't have any wants or goals of my own, and was busy just trying to take care of the people I was responsible for (kids, husband/partner, mom, boss, clients) and do it all to standards I'd absorbed rather than built.

I was lacking internal guidance, and I had to get me some of that to save what sanity I had left. So I started thinking about what kind of person I wanted to be, and how that was different from what kind of person I was. That led me to ideas about things I needed to build in myself, and I looked around for examples of people who exhibited those and watched what and how they did them. Yes, I also looked at things I didn't want to be, but that turned out to be too broad for me. If I don't want to be someone who cheats on lovers, for example, that still leaves the questions of whether I want to have lovers at all, whether I want casual dating or relationship dating, whether I want monogamy or consensual polyamory -- it was just too broad for me and I needed to narrow it down.

One thing I want is to be good at standing up for myself, standing firm but being open to the possibility that I was wrong or misinformed or that another perspective would be more beneficial to me. I saw my beloved sister e doing this in a way that I found to be simultaneously strong and gentle, firm but open, and adopted her as a role model for that. I'm still very much working on this and other personal growth goals, but it's a lot easier for me personally to grow toward a positive than away from a negative.

Thank You, Janeylove.

I have no idea where that piece of writing is. Im sure it inhabits a piece of a dark corner somewhere in one of the boxes in the office (hopefully).

It was a paper liner off of one of those room service trays, a scrap writing tablet from a last-minute, mad-dash attempt for anything, something to say. I almost called Eve that night and told her to cancel me because I had been listening for the muse up until weeks before that performance and she just wasnt giving it up.
I think that piece of writing was, for me, one of the most healing things I have ever done. Not just writing it, but saying it out loud in front of people. Showing my hurt spots, showing my rage, showing that I was pissed right the hell off.
Many people do not know this but there were some folks in the room that night that I had become estranged from. My ex was also there.
I caught myself as I was sitting in the bathroom messing with my hair getting all nervous and jerky. There were a million thoughts running through my head. A million pieces of anger and sadness and joy and resentment and disappointment and love and hate.
And there I was, this thing in a gold lame' dress, covered from head to toe in glitter, wearing gold gogo boots and I felt shiny and starry and new and bright and enormous (not size-wise, but spirit-wise), because I had maintained myself at multiple points during the weekend when there were some shitty situations in my face.
I looked at myself in the mirror and knew that I was the woman that *I* thought I was and not the woman that *they* thought I was.

And by god, was I fucking fabulous.

So I sat down and scribbled out my rage, leaning in an uncomfortable chair and pumping my body into that writing like I was playing a piano. Hard and fast and racing the clock.

And when I performed, I spoke to not just my Momma, but to the people in that room that were part of that hole. The people who let me down. The people who hurt me. The people who betrayed my love for them.

I let go of all of it in front of that crowd in Dallas and nobody but me knew it.

I guess you could say that I forced everyone into my masturbatory therapy - but really, isnt that what all poetry is on some level.

When I was done speaking, a rush of people surrounded me and hugged me, thanked me, applauded me, kissed me. There were a lot of tears. I felt loved.
I felt a tremendous shouldering of that rage from my sisters. I felt like every woman in that room knew exactly what I was talking about and that every one of them would help me rip to shreds the pain and anger.

I keep that moment tied up with red string in the memory part of my mind. I have rarely felt that kind of rush of empowerment where the shitty stuff that was ripped out by pain was replaced with shining diamonds. But it was.

And they are still there. About a million carats worth.

<3

It touched me so much to come across this. When I think about it now, I've watched you become someone who protects herself more fiercely when necessary and more firmly all the time. You are not someone for whom the lesson of boundary maintenance is on eternal repeat (unless it is and you've managed to hide this from me terribly well). I've watched you, even recently, setting boundaries with those you love even when it pains you. I marvel at your strength as much as your stamina.

When I think of you, it is your openness, the generosity of your love, and the way that you are dedicated to improving yourself - and that you DO - that inspires me. All of these things, naturally, have benefited me in some way, and so you see here that I am selfish compared to you. It's what I see about you that makes me more in love with you all the time, as my friend and as my sister. It's the part of you I wish would rub off a little. I want to be the kind of friend that you deserve.


Yes. It is a kind of masturbatory therapy, and as such, I submit that more of us should be doing more of it more of the time.

Certainly, by the sound of it, you should. Just look at the afterglow from that one, sugar.

Darlin', you're one of the best friends I've ever had. You should move back where we can go out together again, but I try not to hold your geographic deficiency against you too much. You inspire me and I inspire you, sounds life a pretty good deal to me.

And Jiminy Hopping Christmas yes on the boundary issues. I have worked hard on those and gotten so much better. And my quality of life is much improved as a result. My honey's been inspiring me there, which is a great quality for her to have, in my book. Reinforcement is good for me.



I agree. The public masturbatory therapy is powerful and empowering and often therapeutic or cathartic for the audience as well. I love a good catharsis.

I just wanted to put in this photo, just published today about steel workers in Sheffield during WWII...

This picture really speaks to me about how *I* am feminine and the things *I* enjoy. And that - I know the picture is staged for the journalist of the time - but that she is dressed the way she is, with heels, doing something she loves and supporting her family by doing so - and contributing to the needs asked of her...

few things make me feel "right on sistah!" but this pic really does.

http://www.independent.co.uk/multime...r-_296182s.jpg

I don't think of this job as masculine and therefor more valued. I think of the unacceptance of femininity to BE there and how hard it is to be taken seriously when I do the same thing (well, not fixing a tank. though my god, I would LOVE to) wearing my own femininity.

One of the biggest achievements, for me, was changing the bearings in a 4x4 drifeshaft, in the jungle, and not cutting my nails to do it. and I didn't break one. And I wore daisy flip flops. my symbols of femininity while I do something someone thinks I shouldn't be doing, while I'm doing it, is my happy "fuck you. I'm all fluffy a cute and I can do it better than you can, @sshole." to those it seems bizzare to.

and she's not all pin up about it either. rock!