A girly girl.
Not a girl who at 6 kicked, screamed and flat refused to get out of the car to go to ballet and wear a peach tutu. A girl who at 9 locked herself in the bathroom, sat in a cold bath and cried her little heart out cos she didn't want to wear a green lace dress. A girl who had a "girls' world" (life sized plastic woman's head with a drawer for make-up) and liked to melt its' face with matches, cut all its' hair off and bury it in the garden!
A girl who often got called "sonny" but who hated being called sonny cos she was a girl... but not a girly girl.
I'm not transmasculine, I'm not transcending anything or transitioning I'm me Butch Boo.
You see my butchness is the very essence of who I am- of me. I was a baby butch and am now butch the elder (not too much of the elder!)
I was asked to write about what butches do. All I can write about is me... what I do is very much determined by who I am- I'm not butch because of what I do - I do what I do because I'm butch.
I'm strong- oh so strong and can beat most at an arm wrestle. My body language I'm told is butch I sit legs astride and strut. I'm the protector and very much the alpha. I'm told my take on the world is different. I sulk!
There is nothing inherently masculine about objects or clothing or activities- but I like to do and wear the things people generally consider to be "masculine".
I ride a big fuck off motorbike, I wear leathers...... I ooze prowess.
I wear aftershave not perfume, I would rather die than shop in a women's boutique. I like to fix, I like to mend, I like to hold doors open, I like to carry.
I like to be a dare devil- to take risks.
I love my ties, my suits and my army boots.
I love to pin my girlfriend down; to feel "masterful".
I hate being called sir and told I'm in the wrong loos.....I love being told I'm handsome.
My mom wanted a girl....a girly girl.
OK we don't swap make-up tips...but she does get to eye up the bloke's bottoms in their leathers when I take her to the motorbike garage!