nothing will ever put into words how beautiful, rich and complex the history of butches and femmes is. the way these identities encapsulate the nuance of dyke gender, affection and the inherent longing to be seen - truly seen for who we are, in a world that often times, seems to have forgotten us.
thinking of those who came before us, how the ofos butches would curl a cigarette in their hands, and watch a femme from across the bar with long nails tap her glass, in anticipation of that one moment that tells them both it was all worth it. the gentle smearing of lipstick, the confidence from straightening out a tie. we have always performed for one another, and known each other far beyond the capability or understanding of anyone outside of our community.
i long to see the theatrics, the drawn out gazes filled with the possibilty of something more. the love letters adorned with perfume and spring violets, a gentle hand finding its way underneath the hem of a worn out vest. i long to love and be loved in the only way that we have ever known, with unbridled fervor spilling out at the edges, with the intimacy found beside candlelight and intertwined between satin sheets. the promise that we will always find each other.
I love studs so much, the adoring look in their eyes as he watches me do my makeup, the pride and constant need to show me off, warmth in their heart from knowing that the clothes I feel the most me in are from him. Always being on their arm, farthest from the street, leading me around and doting on me constantly. Seeing the happiness on their face when they get home from work and dinner is on the table, the house is clean, and I’m all dressed up. Eating together and how he’s telling me how much they appreciate all I do and the food is wonderful, how lucky they are to have a femme like me. They don’t know that I’m truly the lucky one. Helping with my coat, pulling out and pushing in my chair at restaurants. Rehearsing my order because I’m always too nervous to order by myself. Being greeted with breakfast in bed and flowers with the biggest smile. The way they tell me how much they love me when I’m rubbing their sore muscles and playing with his hair. The glowy perfection of having sex, knowing that someone truly loves me and loves that I’m a pillow princess, being cuddled up in bed their warmth surrounding me, and so much more. A stud’s love is so precious and beautiful, I’m so grateful to be their femme.
me when i long for a smidge of lesbian community my age. literally 0 people near where i live, who partake in butch/femme culture or identify that wayyy :((
As a certifiable sleepy girl nothing feels more romantic than cuddling up for a nap with someone. Please play with my hair as I fall asleep, I’ll melt into a puddle.
peace and love on planet butchfemme! ♡ (creator of the “beloved butch” + “beloved femme” heart carabiners finally got to match with their beloved butch)
i need all my butch babes out there to know that you bring so much joy and delight into my life, and the world is a better place for having your handsome, diligent, charming, and warm selves in it. (and i'm giving you all a kiss on the cheek, mwah !)
i want to take you out on a date. nothing too much, but i need you in your best dress. yes, that dress. the one i bought you. i'll wear my blazer and button up, and we'll go out somewhere nice. you can get whatever you want— i'm paying. i'll pull out your chair for you, of course. your heels make you look lovely, angel, and unlike some stupid man, i happen to not mind when you're taller than me— quite the opposite. if you happen to get a little tired eating your food, don't worry— i'll feed you. it's only what you deserve. maybe if it was a different night, i'd shoot a glare over at that guy that's been stealing glimpses of you, but tonight, i don't quite care. anyone can see we're in our own little world. i'm in love, sweetheart. with the clinking of our glasses before we drink... slowly, and with eye contact. with the soft smiles we share in the warm, low light. with your dress... god, your dress. with you. i’m honored, every day, princess.
and at the end of the night, i'll drive you home and fuck you like a whore before cuddling you to bed under the cozy blankets. wouldn't that be nice?