Why I love Butch Women by Skye

There is something about being in close proximity to a butch woman that makes me go a little fluttery inside – kind of melty and shy, and occasionally, bold. Perhaps this is accentuated by the fact that butches are becoming rare and precious in my particular corner of the universe, but when and wherever they cross my path, something within me sits up and takes notice – because I share the other side of the secret. I know the special magic that happens when female yin meets female yang, and the opposite polarity locks us together like magnets caught up in each other’s sway.

I’m beginning to see a trend, where lipstick lesbians and glamorously androgynous sirens rule. Many of the women that I meet definitely trends more towards feminine women seeking the same. Believe me, I appreciate that dynamic. I’ve been there, and still, on occasion, find it lovely country to learn and love and grow in, but for me – it’s not quite home.

I am a femme lesbian who desires butch lesbians. I derive from this identity, from this dynamic, a sense of satisfaction, of completion so sweet that I can hardly begin to articulate it. And yet, from time to time, I hear this complex, richly diverse way of relating boiled down to something like, “If that’s what you like, why not just date a dude?”

I don’t pretend to understand my preference for women on the masculine side of the gender spectrum anymore than I understand why I am attracted to women in the first place. It just is. It’s the swagger – the strut. It can be as understated as her steady gaze, but if you look for it, it’s there. It’s the written language of her body that reads, “this is who I am, this is the way that I am comfortable, and if that makes you uncomfortable, that’s your problem.”

The musk of good cologne clinging to curves does wicked, wicked things to me. My particular cup of tea happens to be butch tops, which, as a group, have elevated the art of pushing a girl up against a wall and kissing her into senselessness to searingly electric new heights.

I love the confidence, and if you throw in the occasional moment of innocent bashfulness, that melts me to my core. I love the smirk. But that confidence thing, that phantom butch phallus thing – that slays me. And I’m not just talking about sexual head space; I’m talking about a particular kind of masculine energy residing in a female mind and body, and the way that turns traditional conceptions of what it means to be a man or a woman upside down. I’m talking about the underlying strength of character required to live and present as a butch woman not only in mainstream society, but also in a gay community that all too often fails to appreciate them. I’m talking about the power that comes with unabashedly just being who you are, even when it’s not the popular thing to do.

I love the way a butch can walk into a room and command the attention of everyone in it. I love that uniquely self-assured way of moving through the world and the safe haven I’ve found again and again in those arms.

I don’t think there is anything sexier on the planet than an intelligent, articulate, well-mannered gentle butch, who knows when to take, and when to yield – the perfect marriage of hard and soft, before I ever enter the picture. I love butch women and the ways, in which they define themselves, describe themselves, manifest out in the world as women who embody butchness only serve to further pique my interest, my esteem, and my longing.

Maybe I’m just looking for Prince Charming in a woman’s body, heart and soul, but the point is, I’m rewriting the fairytale to fit who I am – my strength to match hers. We compliment each other, coming from different sides of the spectrum, reaffirming our very identities in simply wanting one another. We meet somewhere in the middle, and make of it what we will. And in an L World that all too often seems to offer no place of honor, if any place at all, to my beloved butches – consider this testament a love song.

(Skye created the ning network Black Lesbian Friend 40+ at http://blfriends.ning.com/. I am thrilled to have her piece published on Deyes Karayib. )