butch · butch/femme · femme · heterocentrism · lesbian

#ButchFemme Truth Matters

I have already written about the meaning of Butch and Femme, so I won’t focus too much on that. But what I want to say that both terms are used by others who are NOT us, and as a result the meaning has become bastardised.
I’m going to ignore any uses of “Butch” and “Femme” by Men. It’s very obviously not Lesbian and has nothing to do with us.
With the birth of lesbian feminism, radical feminist “lesbian” (NOT!!!) academics such as Adrienne Rich and Sheila Jeffreys have published vile of anti-Butch/Femme hetsplaining bullshit which I won’t quote here because to do so I’d have to read over their shit myself and I really don’t want to do so. Suffice to say, they are dead WRONG!!!

However there is, arguably, a bigger problem and that is other lesbians telling us what we are and either appropriating or maligning Butch/Femme.

If you do a search for “butch lesbian” on many internet forums/blogs/social media sites/lesbian (supposedly) websites, what you find are pictures of Dapper Dykes who play-act hyper-stylised pseudo-masculinity (see below).


Why do some dykes do this? Well, in this heterocentric and hetero-gendered world it’s perfectly understandable, especially for those who are dating or want to date straight/bi women. For dykes who enjoy the style, good luck to them! But, it doesn’t make them butch.

The truth is that NO lesbians is masculine because we are all female; and NO Lesbian is feminine, because we are homosexual. We don’t perform for men, think about men, act in ways that we think will please men. That is what femininity is, and that is NOT what Lesbians do.

Lesbians, including Butch/Femme, exist outside the heterosexual construct that is “gender”. We are neither masculine nor feminine. Butches don’t perform masculinity FULL STOP!!!

So, with Dapper Dykes and Straight/Bi women calling themselves Butch/Femme, is it any wonder that some lesbians look at that misrepresentation and think that Butches and Femmes are merely gender role-players? That we don’t actually exist as our authentic selves, but are a mimic of heterosexual relationships? Of course, if they had ever met us and spent any time with us, they would know that we are FAR from that. However, we are rare, and many of us avoid lesbian gatherings because we are so misunderstood.

So, what are we? We are Lesbians types, we are born Butch/Femme, we are an aspect of Lesbian biology, and we are VERY real. We do not spend our lives pretending to be straight people and we are neither masculine nor feminine. We just are. A Butch does not choose to be a Butch and a Femme does not choose to be a Femme. We are not chosen “identities” with rules that we live by. We are just being our normal Butch or Femme lesbian selves. FULL STOP END OF STORY!!!!

A recent question, from a Lesbian (I couldn’t believe it!!) on twitter asked a Femme friend of mine if she would find her Butch wife attractive if she wore skirts/heels/eye liner etc. Now I really wanted to answer this question in detail, not for my friend, but as if the question had been asked of me, so here is my answer:

  • I am a Femme, and it is in my Femme nature to be attracted to Butches. My fiancee is a Butch and it is not in her Butch nature to wear skirts/make-up/heels. If she was to wear those things (other than as a joke) she wouldn’t be a Butch and nor would she be herself and therefore not my fiancee. You may as well ask me if I would be attracted to her if she was somebody else!!! As an aside, I once put my lippy on her as a joke and then kissed her; it felt so wrong, for both of us!!!
  • Femmes are attracted to Butches, not what Butches wear!!!
    A Butch doesn’t EVER wear those things so the question is ridiculous.
  • I am a Femme and even I don’t wear those things as a rule, I will occasionally wear a skirt and eyeliner on special occasions, but not as a rule and I NEVER wear heels. Heels are for masochistic straight women, they hurt like HELL!!!
  • If we are going to talk about something as superficial as clothing, Butches don’t choose to wear “men’s clothes” to be political, to be subversive, Nor to impress women. Butches are not comfortable in “women’s” clothes and, quite frankly, look ridiculous in them. Why?? Because they are Butch! it’s biology! You also won’t see a butch dressed in a hyper-masculine style complete with bowtie, why? Because that is pseudo-masculine performance which feels wrong because they are not men and they are not trying to be men. There is no performance involved. Most dykes can find clothing in either the “men’s” or “women’s” sections of a department store that will suit them. Butches don’t go within a mile of the “women’s” section of a store unless they are shopping for their Femme, and I ALWAYS shopped in the “men’s” section for my Butch. I have known a number of dykes who simply do not understand, a couple have even asked me why, if she doesn’t want to be mistaken for a man, she wears “men’s” clothes???!!!! I become speechless, because how do I explain that she is a Butch, and that means that it isn’t a choice. She would look as ridiculous in “women’s” clothes as most men do.


So, why is preserving our name so important to us? Well, if we loose the language to describe ourselves, it effects our sense of identity; the consequences of which include confusion, low self-esteem, and alienation. We already suffer from feelings of alienation because we live in a heterocentric world and for Butches this manifests in painful dysphoria. Even though Dykes who try to emulate masculinity are more likely to transition than butches, having other lesbians misrepresent butch/femme increases our sense of alienation and for Butches, it increases dysphoria. What is the current treatment medical treatment for dysphoria? Transition.

So please, lesbians who are reading this, don’t appropriate or misrepresent us; and Butches and Femmes who are reading this, be true to yourselves and stand up for the true meaning of our names.

lesbian · Sappho


The problem with depression is that I lose incentive. One minute I will be excited about doing a blog post and have lots to say, the next I will talk myself out of it and feel so tired I don’t think I will ever write another word again,

I am hoping to write some posts, or maybe one large post, on Sappho and the erasure of Lesbian history. I want to write it in an academic style, it will be the Sappho essay I always wanted to write as a student, but I stopped myself from saying what I wanted to say, what needs to be said.

So, while I can’t promise to post anything soon because I don’t know if or when I’ll have the mental or physical energy to write, but I will try.

For now I’ll leave you with a translation (not mine) of one of my favourite fragments. It is taken from this site, if you want to explore some more of her lyrics (yes lyrics, they were meant to be sung).


Fr. 94

. . . honestly I wish I were dead.

She wept as she was leaving me,


shedding many tears, and said to me:

“Oh, what terrible unhappiness is ours!

Sappho, I swear I’m leaving you against my will.”


And to her I made this answer:

“Go, and fare well, and remember me,

for you know how we cared for you.


If not, why then I want

to remind you . . .

. . . and the happiness we had.


Many the wreaths of violets,

of roses and crocuses together . . .

. . . you put on beside me,


many woven garlands,

fashioned from flowers,

you put around your tender neck;


with much costly perfume

fit for a queen

you anointed yourself,


and on soft beds . . .

. . . tender . . .

… you assuaged your longing….


There was neither . . .

. . . nor shrine . . .

from which we were absent,


no grove . . . or dance . . .”

heterocentrism · homophobia · lesbian · marriage

The Homophobic Country

Australia is known as “The Lucky Country”, but we know the truth. I haven’t felt up to writing much about the marriage equality campaign and how my fiancee and I are dealing with it (not well, but we will be fine). I want to share the following article because it sums up exactly how it feels. Please have a read.

Same-Sex Marriage Vote: It’s Upsetting and Hurtful to have People Judging Our Lives.

butch/femme · femme · heterocentrism · lesbian

Secret Agent

The title for this post is inspired by the Melissa Etheridge song of the same name, and it got me thinking about the real truth of femme invisibility. Are we really invisible? So many articles written by purported “femmes” are about invisibility; about the problems of being read as straight by both straight people and other lesbians. Is it really the huge problem it’s made out to be?
Honestly, I think it depends on the femme and on the situation. There have been times in my life that I have found it to be extremely isolating. As a student I saw the comradery between dykes and was never a part of that. Even that knowing eye contact and nod in the street was something I craved but rarely found. Still it’s rare, and usually only butches notice my existence. They seem to have a heightened “gaydar” for femmes. For me it has never (well, not since I met my soulmate when we were 18) been about finding a lover, but more about feeling less isolated as a lesbian in a straight world. A particular kind of isolation that only lesbians experience.

There was a time in my early twenties that I cut my hair short in the hopes of lesbian recognition. I hated the way it look and I hated that I felt it necessary to change something about my looks; not because I wanted to, but because I thought I HAD to in order to be part of a lersbian community. Of course I didn’t have to and, as I found out, it didn’t even work! Cutting my hair didn’t make lesbians friends suddenly appear in my life. I was young and naive, and I learned my lesson.

While I may pass as straight on the street, it doesn’t mean that I am isolated. It doesn’t matter whether a lesbian passes as straight (to straights) or not, lesbians have a way of recognising each other. Call it instinct, or gaydar (I prefer lezdar), we just do, and we form communities. Of course it is harder for some depending on location or whether they are “out”, but we have existed under the radar for millennia. Our history is as long as human history. We are not new, and we have always found ways of living as authentic a life as we can. Shame the straights make it so bloody difficult at times!!!

To be honest, I really don’t give a fuck whether a straight person thinks I’m gay or not. Occassionally a man will look at me in a certain way or try to flirt with me, but it’s not like femmes can’t handle the situation with polite honesty. It leaves us with an icky skeevy feeling, but it’s not a big deal.

It does annoy me when I meet a Lesbians who has crap lezdar, but it’s easily sorted. Once they get to know me, they can’t believe they ever thought I was straight!!!

It would hypothetically be a problem if I had the opportunity to enter a lesbian only space and I wasn’t believed to be a lesbian, but I’ve never been in that situation. Our apartment is the only lesbian-only (well, except when our parents visits) space I have been in. There are no lesbian bars/clubs/groups. Even if there were, my partner and I are such introverts that we’d probably avoid them anyway.

So, in conclusion:

Are we secret agents? Yes, because straight people are clueless!!!

Are we invisible? Not at all!!! Lesbians see us and know us for what we truly are. In the end, that’s all that matters.

heterocentrism · homophobia · lesbian · marriage


Don’t let them gaslight you. You are NEVER in the wrong calling out homophobia and choosing to remove HOMOPHOBES from your social media and/or your life.

I won’t name names for family reasons. The person who wrote the following comments is not a family member but a good friend of a close family member and I don’t want to be the person to come between them. Luckily my family member in question is very supportive of me, my relationship, and wants to see us be able to legally marry. She does not see our relationship as being any less legitimate than her own. 

The following screen shots show a public comment written on a thread about the same-sex marriage debate currently raging in Australia followed by parts of our subsequent conversation on Facebook Messenger. 

The public comment is as follows:

(Missing line)

Our conversation in facebook messenger, the blue bubbles are my comments:

(Comments with personal info redacted)

After she played the victim, I responded in the following way:

butch/femme · erotica · lesbian · sex

I Trembled…

I’ve written about sex and mentioned that I write erotica and wanted to share some because there is such a lack of real lesbian erotica on the net. Despite being written in the first person, all my erotica is FICTION!! It is written from the point of view of a fictional character, not me.


I trembled as she gently brushed a stray hair back behind my ear. There was a fire in her eyes and I could tell that she was deliberately holding herself back. Savouring the moment, delaying her own satisfaction and fully aware of the effect she was having on me.
She had asked me to undress, and I now stood naked before her. I wanted her hands on me, arms around me, holding me up, one hand caressing the curve of my breast, her thumb teasing my already erect nipple, her other hand on my arse cheek, her fingers teasingly close…
But she merely looked at me, caressing me with no more than her eyes. Her gaze fell on my lips and I licked them subconsciously, forcing myself to remain still, to allow her this moment to study her love, her femme.
She took a step back as her eyes travelled down to take in my breasts. Usually held up by at the rigid fabric of a sports bra, they were now laid bare, full, hanging free, rising and falling slightly with my quickening breath.
Her eyes took in the curve of my waist, the softness of my belly, and finally rested on the dark curls that grew untamed. This time it was she who licked her lips, and I smiled.
I was unashamed.
She looked up and caught my eye. Her stare was penetrating and my smile faded, I could see the need in her eyes, the power of her gaze caught me by surprise, and my legs weakened as my heart began to race and I felt moisture pooling between my thighs.
“Kneel for me” she commanded, and I obeyed willingly, knowing what this meant, what she wanted me to do.
She stepped forward, her crotch a mere inch away from my mouth. I could smell her arousal and quickly unzipped her fly and pushed the denim aside, lowering her jeans just enough. Her boxers buttoned at the front and my shaking fingers struggled to release them, but I managed. I ran my fingers lightly over her dark curls, and breathed deeply, taking in her scent. I slowly pushed her lips apart with my thumb, leaned forward as she spread her legs just a little, allowing me further access. I licked her, the tip of my tongue pressing gently yet firmly against her clit, stroking her over and over, my mouth filling with her taste. My own excitement grew; I felt my cunt clenching, my clit pulsating, demanding attention. I licked her faster, harder as she began to shudder against me. She didn’t cry out, no words, but a low moan of release as I felt her cum. My tongue slowed its rhythm and I removed the pressure from her clit, lightly lapping, savouring the moment until I felt her hand on my head gently push me aside.
I remained on the floor as she buttoned up and zipped her fly. She gazed down at me, my lips dark and swollen, my face covered in her juices. I looked up at her and she could see the pleading in my eyes.
She reached down and cupped my face in her hand, her thumb tracing the outline of my lips, I licked it with my tongue, taking it into my mouth and sucking hard.
She smirked and withdrew her hand as she looked around, briefly surveying the room before coming to a decision.
“Well, I’m not going to fuck you down there on the floor am I? I want you too stand up, walk over to the dining table and bend over. Can you do that for me my love?”

Want a Part 2??