Butch Like Me

Growing up into my butch ness, I have always felt that being butch was one of the most subversive things one could be. Think about, a masculine looking woman-that is a woman loving other women. The world flips out when faced with that quiet statement. Here is a woman that will not transition, will not be male, and will not be misread, so you (world) can soothe yourself. Deal with it.


This is my testimony and I need someone to hear it. I am not trying to slam anyone else. I am merely a lost soul looking for my tribe, my people, my clan. I don’t know where to find them because the butch seems to be in decline.

I am not genderqueer, trans, or ftm, but I have friends that identify in all those ways and I love them but my pool of people that experience the world as I do is growing small.

I am often alone and confused. This is a brave new world. It’s very brave and very new. The simple description of Butch is now a large umbrella that may not actually include me…I feel adrift, lost because it seems I am merely a throwback in comparison to all there is out there today, for I am just a woman identified butch, and there may not be as many of me as there once was.

From the moment I wake up in the morning to the second I fall asleep and all the minutes in between, I walk on this planet, in this world, and in every space as a woman that is masculine in appearance. Every day finds me having to fight for the right to be a woman in this masculine looking body. My womanhood is disrespected and slowly encroached upon in small ways like being called sir or addressed with male pronouns, being challenged in the women’s bathrooms, and being asked if I’m going to take “T”, and the list goes on. How can I survive these changes and this new environment? Are there others of you out there like me? Am I the last feminist butch woman standing? If so, I’ll turn the lights out when I leave.

Questions--in progress

I am bound to this world by my love and my duty.
Bound in this black body
Bound is this female body
Bound in this gay body

When will I be released?
Cut lose from this body and the identity that comes with it.
When will I cease to be
A daughter
A sister
An auntie
A lover
A friend
When will it be my turn
Like the whirling dervishes
To spin and dance in joy as all the cares and worries slip away

How will I end?
As I look back on my life
Will my parents know how hard I tried to make them proud?
Will my sister realize that it was her companionship that got me through?
Will my niece understand that I see the future of our family in her?
Will my women know that I loved them above all else and that their brown skin delighted me because loving them was like loving myself?
Will my friends know how much I enjoyed and cherished their friendship?

In the end
Will the Baptist God of my father and mother witness my passing
Or will the spirits of my ancestors gather me up and welcome me home?
Will they approve of my works and see that my heart was always in the right place?
Will Jesus and Osiris weigh my heart and find it lighter than a feather?

91 cm

I saw an animated short called shkizein. The main character is hit by a meteor and the side effect is that he is 91 cm beside himself. It's funny and horrifying at the same time. I also saw another short called varmints…and that was a beautiful piece that dealt with the mass destruction of our environment and how it affects others. Both were powerful and made me think.


I'd like to write about this idea of being beside or outside yourself. I think it's safe to say that we have all experienced that at one time or another. I'll just put a placeholder here for that bit of writing.

Right Place

I will say the mantra..

the mantra that has kept me safe for so long.


Everything in it's right place...Yes, everything is in it's right place.


And if she is in my heart then she's suppose to be there...

Circling the rim of my blood cells,

floating in and out of my right and left aortas. She lives beneath my eyelids.

I can see her clearly in my mind..

Her eyelashes curled up,

her hair curled out,

her scent and very essence curled around me.

I would say her name but it has power and would shock me like a defibulator, jump starting my heart.

So instead I say my mantra, because it too has power and saying a thing can make it true..

Everything in it’s right place
Everything in it’s right place
Everything in it’s right place
Everything in it’s right place
Everything in it’s right place

Everything has got to be in it’s right place, because I love her and I know there is room.

2 Little Roots

On the ground some seeds fell down.

2 little roots found each other and intertwined.

Joined, they grew strong, they grew powerful,

They pushed through the dirt and the darkness

Finding a way to survive, giving and receiving nurturing from each other--

Always striving and reaching for the light

Into the sunshine they burst

One big trunk sprouted with 2 branches united

Higher and higher the tree grew

Blooming and withering and blooming anew

Weathering the seasons and storms

Together always remaining strong

2 branches grew up and out but not apart

Healthy and beautiful and just as connected as from the start

By a big tree trunk being supported by 2 little roots deep down

In the ground seeded by love

Curly Q

She is a woman of curves and curls..

Curls in her hair

Curls in her long lashes

Curves in all the right places

Hips, ass , and more

And now I’m curled around her finger

She wears me like her favorite ring..

As I look at her and see curly haired babies and,

Swirls, and curls, and circles in the sand

I see wisps of clouds in the shape of hearts

And hear little chimes and bells to boot too.

She moves me to chuckle, to smile, to grin with a case of perma.

My heart races, and beats to her drum

I wonder, I hope, I think, can I be her 1 and

Only…

i am not here

Will I go on?
Will the world end without a Reed of grass standing tall?
I worry about these things..
almost as much as the length of my hair.

So much on my plate..black..woman..lesbian..butch.
Boiled down to nothing.
Looking for what's underneath..

Have you seen me with your eyes?
Felt me with your hands?
Heard me with your ears?
Do you know about my deconstructed soul?

Did you know
my blackness contains light?
My womanhood is precious
My love is safe inside women
My femaleness lives in peace with my maleness


My soul..is not black.or woman. or lesbian. Or butch
I think..
I think..
I think..
I'm just me.