You Knew You Were a Femme When...

[vagina]

I knew I was a Lesbian when I told my friend at 13 that she's beautiful.

When I was a kid/teenager I always looked for the most Butch looking women when driving through the 'Gayborhood'.

I tried to impress girls and look more like a dyke by dressing the part of butch... which lasted all of 3 months. And then the cargo shorts and oversized tshirts had to go.

I had flings with women who were not Butch... and it was just that flings.

I started dating women that were tomboys. When the L word came out I had a crush on Shane and then even more on the Butches.

Finally in my midtwenties a Butch picked me up and took me home. It was only after several relationships with Butches/AGs/Studs... that I learned what a Femme is.

And I went, 'Oh, I guess I must be a Femme'.


I feel that I am Femme because my main attraction is to Butch and because I am a lesbian.

[anaisninja]

I started noticing that I'm most attracted to masculine women. I don't see myself as a girly girl, but in relation to what I'm attracted to, I guess that makes me a femme.

[lamuymuyfem]

When I was 14 and I saw a beautiful butch woman up close and I said, "I want that with a cherry on top!"

OK, so I didn't know the double meaning of cherry, but you get my drift….

[EmJay]

I was 22 and had recently broken up with my ex of 4 years who was a woman. I never really considered myself gay, I just figured I was In love with my ex because of them as a person, nothing to do with my sexuality. I dated a few guys after the relationship ended but it just didn't feel right. One day I decided to try chatting online and the first person I messaged was a really handsome butch. After chatting I was opened to this whole new world of butches and femmes which I didn't even know existed. "Gay" was not just one cookie cutter type of relationship. I was so completely consumed by the butch femme dynamics and I knew I loved being a femme as much as I loved having a butch. Now when I see a handsome butch I get all flushed and butterflies in my tummy and its like a 13 yr old girls crush. But nothing has ever made me feel as flustered and intense as that first butch. I'm so happy I met them and was opened to this part of my life.

[cinnamongrrl]

I knew in 2nd grade...but took the long way around...

My first little "girlfriend" liked to be called Davey...and I wouldn't THINK of wearing a dress unless it twirled.... (I STILL take a "spin" when I pick out skirts and dresses!)

[silkepus]

Originally Posted by cinnamongrrl

I knew in 2nd grade...but took the long way around...

My first little "girlfriend" liked to be called Davey...and I wouldn't THINK of wearing a dress unless it twirled.... (I STILL take a "spin" when I pick out skirts and dresses!)

Me too! Dresses really should pass the twirl factor before I get them (unless they wriggle of course).

And to answer the question, I dont really know. I'm not entirely sure what femme even means, everytime I look it up I get even more confusing descriptions. But I do know I like to be feminine and wear feminine things and I also know I'm attracted to masculine women so I guess that makes me femme? I remember when I was 15 I knew a girl who was very masculine and we used to tease each other and kind of treat each other in a traditional masculine/feminine way. I know she isnt gay or anything, but I think that was the first time I really started to notice women with that certain energy.

[Candelion]

....when every butch I met told me so.



Seriously, I remember the moment so vividly. It was the summer I would turn nine. My best friend was eleven. We were spending our last day together before we would spend two weeks apart. I was to visit my grandparents and she would spend her time productively picking blueberries to earn spending money. We had spent all morning hiking the trails on Sumas Mountain. By noon I started watching her face for any sign that she might be thinking about lunch. We kept ascending the mountain. I was tired but I didn't complain. I never did. I never would. We approached a fallen tree that blocked our path. I started to clamber over the barrier when suddenly I heard her voice, "I'm hungry." Finally, I thought. "Aren't you hungry?" she asked. "You never want to stop for lunch." I looked at her shyly (I know it was shyly, because I was shy). "I don't get tired," I lied. She grabbed my knapsack and pulled out our usual cucumber sandwiches. From her knapsack she retrieved two cans of grape pop...I grinned...my mom never bought pop. We gobbled our lunch. I tried not to. I always liked to save half my sandwich for her. We talked about bikes and how she would teach me to catch a baseball. We talked about friends and siblings. We sat for a long time it seemed. I waited for her to reach for my hand. She always did. She always would. Her tall body and short dark curly hair was a contrast to my smaller body and long blonde hair. Her dark tanned skin gave her substance. I was so blonde I was almost not there. She reached for my hand. I stared at our hands. Clasped. My clean white hand wrapped in her scratched dark hand. I don't know how long we sat there. But we had stopped chattering. We sat in silence. I looked up at her face. She was staring at our hands. She saw what I saw. I kissed her cheek. She tugged my pony tail and said, "We won't get to the top just sitting here." I got up. I felt good inside. We were the same. We were different. We fit.