I was a tomboy all my life – I was in rodeo and worked construction with my dad.
Twenty-six years ago, at age 25, I came out as a lesbian – I was a late bloomer.
Many of us see labels like “butch” as just a necessary component to our strange balance.
We make up all flavors of the rainbow; the possibilities are endless.
I get such positive responses – gay people, straight people.
I’m really grateful to be living in this time – I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m enjoying it. That’s what’s cool about this time in the world; I can be who I am and not feel bad about it anymore.
In today’s society, ‘gender queer’ and all those new terms coming up are allowing flexibility in how you identify yourself – butch is a look, a lifestyle and a way of life.
Butches weren’t always that popular, but right now we’re a hot commodity and I’m loving it.
Until recently I’ve had a bad taste in my mouth for the word ‘butch’ – people think of a crew cut, low voice and abrasive personality.
Coming into me as a person now, butch is another term with 20 layers.
The meaning of life for me is to have a series of experiences to discover who you are, by discovering who you are not. When I think of the term ‘butch’ I generally picture a woman who identifies in some masculine way, and chooses to express herself in that way.
But really, categories and stereotypes are different for everyone.