Continued from the post yesterday, Identity Musings – Part 1 I encourage you to read that first if you have not.

I started leaning back toward femme the last year of high school. I didn’t have any serious relationships during high school, the few queer girls I knew either had boyfriends, didn’t seem interested, or I didn’t know them, and I wasn’t attracted to boys in my high school with the exception of very few. I lost my virginity at 16, the day it was legal for me to fuck someone over 18, to a man I didn’t really know. I don’t regret it, mostly I just wanted to get that whole virginity thing out of the way, but I do sometimes forget it happened.

I’m not sure what leaned me back toward femme, and, really, in some ways I had never left it. I was a wonderful mixture of butch and femme: keeping my hair short but wearing wigs when desired, wearing any manner of clothing I felt like, skirts, dresses, pants, capris, suits. I wore a suit to my junior prom: black coat, shirt, and pants with pink tie, socks, and hair to match my date’s dress. I look back on that time and realize in some ways I had my own gender figured out better than I do now.

I had this intense desire to grow my hair out, partially so that I would actually start attracting anyone. I didn’t think I was terribly attractive, but I looked back at myself with long hair and thought maybe that was the issue. I don’t believe that’s the case, but it was one of those non-logical I-really-want-to-get-laid-or-at-least-have-some-sort-of-sexual-encounter-with-someone-to-sate-my-skin-hunger type of things, so I started growing it out.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my long hair, but I miss it being short. I definitely had this “boy phase” from middle school to near the end of high school, what I thought was a butch phase, but I really do think it was a bit more than that. I wouldn’t play female roles in plays for a few years (and I was in a lot of plays), and the first one I did rather reluctantly.

I embraced that genderqueer boi inside of me so wholly, and I really was more of a boy than anything, but I was often a cross-dressing boy.

When I have expressed my confusion regarding my gender, my need to have both of these in me, I’ve had people not quite understand what the issue is, why I can’t just be “in the middle”, why I can’t be both, where the confusion is coming from. There are also people who express their own blend of masculinity and femininity when I mention it, they say that they don’t feel that pull, that they exist with a little of both and don’t understand that pull either.

If I feel like a femme, why hasn’t that been enough? If I feel butch, why hasn’t that been enough? I’ve thought multiple times that because I could be butch I should be, because we need more butches around. But then I know that wouldn’t be honest with myself.

In some ways I feel like a transsexual femme, that I used to be a boy and now I am femme. Looking back I really do see the gender trends of my life rather clearly.

I feel like I started as a boy who liked girls things, but who was a boy, we’ll call him Sebastian. I was a queer boy who liked boys and girls, even though I looked like a girl I was still a boy. I grew up to be a boy, and then I decided to change and become a femme. Then I was a femme, I embraced that femme and she felt good, we’ll call her Scarlet. Now I’m realizing that while Scarlet is as perfect as I first thought her to be, that she fits me just like she originally did when I first had that femme-epiphany-moment, that she is not enough for me. I miss Sebastian, but I don’t want to give up Scarlet, I want to be both.

The thing is I’m both boi and femme, both male and female, both masculine and feminine, both Sebastian and Scarlet, and I always will be. I’m also not a mixture of the two. I’m not somewhere in between boi and femme, I don’t have my own planet that is a mixture of the two that I orbit around, no, I am a boi and I am a femme, sometimes completely separately and sometimes at the same time, but they are always to distinct identities. I have two different planets that I orbit around, and sometimes I orbit around both and sometimes I orbit around neither.

I have suppressed Sebastian for quite a while, but he is coming back with the realization that I need both of them to be whole. I am working on regaining that. And, who knows, maybe I’ll find another personae hidden in there as well, someone completely different than Scarlet or Sebastian.

Continue the musings with part 3…

I’ve been reading Pomosexuals for the last week or so, and loving it immensely. I read it while I’m on the elliptical at the gym, and I end up thinking about all these wonderful things that I would like to post about while I’m nowhere near my computer, or even paper to write ideas down with. This post has been swimming around in my head for days, thinking about how I got to the identities I embrace now.

Since gender, I think, is difficult to disentangle with sex and sexuality, I will be talking about all of those in this. It will be as much my general identity progression as it will be my gender identity progression, just focused a little more heavily on gender. Also, since this is turning out very long, it will be in two parts.

Any or all of these memories may not be entirely as they happened, as with all memories, but they are as I remember them.

I remember being younger–pre-school age, so 3 or 4–and taking a bath with my then-best-friend who was a boy, I remember us doing the “that’s weird” thing regarding each others genitals, wondering about the differences. I recall knowing the terms vagina and penis, though that may be that my brain at some point added them, and I remember remarking that my clitoris (I didn’t know what it was called at that point) was like a little penis. It’s not that I expected my clitoris to turn into a penis, or thinking that I was a boy, but I didn’t think there was much of a difference between them. Of course, I know now that they come from the same tissue, but that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking at the moment.

I remember growing up and liking dresses, while my (very 2nd wave feminist) mother did not like me liking dresses. She didn’t discourage me from wearing them exactly, but she would suggest that I did not wear them. The same goes with pink. Pink was never my favorite color (that elusive childhood obsession of a “favorite color” which changed nearly weekly), but I always have loved purple, and I think I would have liked pink sooner if it wasn’t for my mothers “yuck” reaction to it.

I remember my best friend M had a cinderella dress, and I coveted it. I remember liking to wear satiny nightgowns and have sleepovers with friends where we would play by rubbing our mounds together. I remember pretending to get married, and I would always be the preacher, rarely the bride or the groom.

I remember being girly, and I remember loving it. I was a femme, until I hit puberty, but I never “felt” female, I’m not even sure what that means. I think I mean that I didn’t really identify with being female or being a woman, though I did like girly things. I remember having “crushes” on boy celebrities that I wasn’t really attracted to, but that my friends A and T both did, and I was trying to fit in.

I remember hitting middle school and starting to wear all black when I used to wear all sorts of other colors. I came out to my then-best-friend W on the school bus before school in seventh grade, saying “I think I’m bisexual.” We talked about it, and he was cool with it, I’m not sure he quite knew what that meant. I remember having that spread around without my wishes, and then my own firm desire to spread it around.

I was sexual since sixth grade, or earlier maybe, but sixth was the first time I really started thinking about it, I had my first in fifth (October 10th–my best friend’s birthday party, it was a swimming party and I remember having to use a tampon for the first time that very first time I bled). I used to read romance novels, I read over sixty of them (I labeled them with numbers in my own OCD way), I was enamored with penetration, but lusted after the girls more than the guys. I masturbated… a lot.

When I was fourteen (though I certainly didn’t look fourteen) my older sister took me to Babeland (then Toys in Babeland) and bought me my first sex toy, a glow-in-the-dark bullet that I loved until it died (from overuse?).

I cut my hair short (about two inches) freshman year of high school. I started wearing pants more than skirts, though I still wore skirts because I’ve always loved them. I was very much a goth/punk butch fagette. I dyed my hair just about every shade of every color you can think of (ROYGBIV and more), and had all sorts of combinations, including pink with blue tips, yellow with green tips, pink and purple mixed around, red and purple, purple and white, and a very cool looking rainbow.

I was very out. I started the Gay/Straight Alliance at my High School my Junior year, and was the president that year and the next. I organized both high-school and community wide events. I worked with PFLAG and went to some of their meetings. Most people thought I was a lesbian, some of the people in my hometown still do, even though I was very out as bisexual. A friend’s lesbian mothers were surprised when she told them I was with a man.

I’ve been told that I was an inspiration to those around me, that I have helped them discover themselves and not be afraid of doing what they wanted or wearing what they wanted, because I was there to be a little more bizarre so they could go to their own personal extreme.

More of the path it took me to get here in part 2…

Sinclair brought up a great point the other day in his post define: cisgender that I want to touch upon and explore. Now, I’ve had cisgender in my lexicon since I started this site, and have been in the process of reading the book Sinclair mentions in his post, Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity for longer than that (though am currently starting it over now that I’m not in school and can devote more attention to it). Whipping Girl is also where I got the definitions of traditional vs. oppositional sexism used in my definition of femmeinism. Needless to say, I think it’s brilliant, and look forward to finishing it.

For those of you who have not read Sinclair’s post (though I highly encourage you to), here is a definition of cisgender: people whose gender aligns with the cultural expectations of their sex and who have only ever experienced their subconscious and physical sexes as being aligned (e.g. feminine female, masculine male). “The word has its origin in the Latin-derived prefix cis, meaning “on the same side” as in the cis-trans distinction in chemistry.”

Now, back to the point. I have used the term “bio-female” in my gender/sexuality/general description for quite some time, and quite purposefully. Ever since reading Sinclair’s post I have been questioning this, and as you may notice I have taken it out of my description on the sidebar and in my about page. I have done this for a number of reasons.

First, however, I would like to explain my initial reason for choosing the term bio-female when I have been fully aware of the terms cisgender and cissexual for quite some time. What I realize now I meant was assigned-female-at-birth, as opposed to cis-female, because I have never quite felt cis-female, my gender has always been a little (or a lot) queer. Not only am I not cis-female because of my femme identity, but then when other identities are taken into account they dispute this as well. While I often do appear to the casual observer to be cisgendered, there are also plenty of times when I do not.

Sinclair’s post got me wondering: why do I have that in there? Why does it matter what I was assigned at birth if I don’t believe in binary genders or sexes? What was the reason for me to include this in my own description? The only answer I came to was that I didn’t want my sex misinterpreted. When I realized this I mentally laughed at myself. I realized it was a safety blanket, my version of a blue-blanket, and something I didn’t need anymore (perhaps never needed).

Because of that realization as well as the realization of the incorrectness of the term “bio,” for as Sinclair put it “there’s nothing non-biological about trans folks,” I decided to take it out of my description. I simply don’t need it anymore. Obviously at one point I thought it was necessary, I felt threatened that I would be assumed for anything other than female. I say this with a little bit of shame, it was my own internal cissexism rearing it’s ugly head. Despite being a decidedly fierce trans supporter and advocate for years I am still subject to my internalized cissexism, but I’m working on it.

There were two distinct times I can think of where I was “mistaken” for a male queen. These were both many years ago during high school. Nowadays I would be rejoicing for such a reading of my sex and gender, but in those days I had not gone through much if any gender revelations and while I wasn’t disgusted or outraged I was confused and taken aback (mostly because my boobs were huge and in both instances I was wearing a low-cut top, in one instance a corset). I think my original adoption of “bio-female” was in part due to those instances.

I have more thoughts about the differences between femme and cis-female, but will have to save them for another time.

I’ve been thinking a lot about femme cock lately, ever since I posted on the subject. I haven’t only been thinking about the acquisition of one, however, but also what it means to have a femme cock, and what it means that my cock is femme. On one hand, it’s a very minuscule difference. I mean, what does it matter if my cock is femme, butch, genderqueer, a dildo, or any other label that I put on it? It’s still a cock, right? It’s still a piece of silicone. On the other hand, cocks are not thought of as femme or feminine. Cocks are, as we generally associate them with males, usually considered a masculine item.

So, what does it really mean to have a femme cock? What’s the big deal? For one thing, when a cock is strapped on it is pretty much assumed that the strapper is masculine in some way. While there are many people who do not make this assumption I would say that the overwhelming majority do. Though it does seem like pegging (female penetrating a male with a strap on) has been getting more popular lately with videos like Bend Over Boyfriend and lots of beginner strap-on kits popping up all over the place. Even then, however, the penetrator is still thought of as taking on the masculine role even if the penetrator isn’t thought of as masculine.

Penetration is nearly always considered a masculine act, even if done by a feminine body. Rarely do you see a dildo called Felicity or Sophia, instead we see Leo, General, Magnum, and Throb. That’s not to say that there aren’t female-named dildos like Goddess, Mistress, Wanda, and the ever delightful Vicky Venus, but they are nowhere near as common as the others. There have always been vibrators with feminine names, because they are trying to appeal to their target audience, but if you delve into the realm of “realistic” dildos… well, I’ll just say I have yet to see a dildo marketed as realistic named anything feminine (though there could be one or two, I can’t claim to have seen all the dildos in the world). I’m not saying that they should be more common, I wouldn’t make that call, but I am saying that thinking of a dildo as feminine or thinking of penetration as a feminine act is not common.

But what does it really mean for a femme to have a cock, or for a femme to pack? There are infinite ways in which a femme can pack, and an infinite number of reasons and desires which can come out of packing/having a cock. I can’t help but think of an excerpt from The Leather Daddy and the Femme when thinking about femme cock, and the infinite possibilities:

It was lavender silicone and not shaped like a cock at all. It wasn’t even meant to be a cock, on her. She never got especially turned on to cocks–but strapping on something to fuck with, something that let her pin me to a bed or a wall and let her cunt-energy come exploding out of her and into my cunt or asshole, she liked that just fine. [...] She didn’t think of it as a cock so I didn’t either, but I sure did take it seriously.

This is part of the way I think of my cock, I declare it as a cock but I don’t think of it as a cock but as an extension of my cunt, which is also why I’m not very attracted to realistic-looking cocks for my own personal cock. I wouldn’t be against a realistic-looking (and feeling) cock in my collection, but that wouldn’t be my main cock.

The more I read in The Leather Daddy and the Femme the more I work with and figure out my own gender queerness. My sexuality is so tied in with my gender, and it’s interesting to have this lovely femme woman as well as a butch boi within me, both aching to get out and both who desire to wear a cock.

This brings me back to the question: what does it mean? Obviously, it can mean a lot of different things depending on who is wearing the cock and who is viewing/feeling the cock. Is there a big difference between someone who embraces femme packing or strapping on than someone who embraces butch? I think there is. That’s not to say that the same meaning couldn’t be applied to the cock or the wearing of the cock in both cases, because it could be, but there would still be a difference. What would that difference be, I’m not entirely sure. Something I’ll have to think on more and get back to you.

Click here for the larger version.

In honor of the Femme Conference which starts tomorrow (more info at the Femme Collective site or my post a while ago) I thought I would post something gender-related. It isn’t exactly naked skin, so half-nekkid might be a little bit of a stretch, but sometimes clothes can make me more naked than nakedness ever could.

The above images (yes, there is a second image if you click on the image above) are representations of me, really a mixture of my drag king and drag queen sides, hence the title, drag quing. All of the clothing I am wearing is mine, the shirt is actually the same shirt I wore to my Junior Prom, all those years ago, though I had a different black suit (not pinstriped) and a pink tie on (which matched my date’s dress–also pink hair and pink socks to match). I love suits, both on myself and on others.

Gender is something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately, specifically my gender but also gender in general. Sometimes I miss the butch side of me, the side which used to be most prominent, but has now taken a back seat to my femme-ininity. I sometimes wonder where that butch went, the baby butch I was in high school has morphed into this femme identity, and sometimes I want to bring my butch back.

Recently I shaved Master’s head, and ever since I have been missing my own short hair, my own shaved head. At the same time I love the long hair that I have now, it is the longest it’s been since 8th grade, approaching where it was then, even. I have these mixed emotions about it all. It’s not like I think I have to pick butch or femme, that I have to be one or the other. I know that I settle somewhere in the middle, and that I can decide what gender I feel like expressing at any given moment, on any given day. But it is still hard to reconcile the genders within me, as society makes it difficult to be in that middle-ground.

So, this is my blending of my identities. The long red hair, red lips, red fingernails, with the black pinstripe suit and tie. You can’t tell from the way I’ve cropped it, but I also had on a fedora, a short black skirt, fishnets, and my black doc martins. Perhaps someday, once I get my tripod and a remote for my camera, I’ll show you the whole package. This is my genderqueerness, and I thought you all might like to see it.

Click here for the larger version

Popped my HNT Cherry! I wanted to do something very “me” for this my very first Half-Nekkid Thursday, so I put on my leather scarlet corset and scarlet and white polka dot skirt and grabbed my lovely scarlet and white Vicky Venus dildo and my terra-firma harness and took tons of pictures, though only a couple were really worthy of posting, as it goes.

I thought the whiteness of my thighs (I am a pasty white Alaskan, you know) along with the white and scarlet of the skirt and Vicky would look just lovely, and you can see some of my Bettie Page tattoo peeking out from under the skirt (the second “hidden” picture shows more of the tattoo and more of the corset). And just look at how cute the Vicky Venus dildo is! It is my favorite, I am so enamored with her. She’s even got a little belly button!

Taking these made me start to lust after the wireless remote control that Amazon has for my camera, and also a tripod. Neither of which I have, but both of which would be helpful for future HNT’s and photography in general.

One of the things I really want to do is take more pictures, but it’s difficult to take self-pictures (without a remote and tripod especially) and I have a lack of models. I much prefer models/portraits/people to landscapes and such. I suppose I could start advertising, but part of it is that I don’t feel ready to shoot models because I don’t think I’m “that” good yet. However, perhaps I just need to put that aside, because the more I shoot the better I will be.

Many years ago I bought a terra firma harness (with extender strap) and Leo (in black). I have used it many times (though not as many as I would like), on a few different partners, both male and female.

However, most of those partners and occurrences were few and far between. Recently, while Master and I were in England, I used it on him. We had talked about it for quite some time, but we never really got around to me fucking him in the ass. It was very fun, and may have been one of the catalysts to me discovering my Top/Domina side. Not that one has to be a Top if one has a cock, oh no. I know that is not true, and that is not what I’m trying to imply. However, for me, there was a bit of power that I was wielding due to being the penetrator and I not only got back in touch with my cock, but I also got back in touch with that side of me that enjoys wielding that power.

Honestly, when I bought my Leo he was a butch cock. I was much more butch in high school before figuring out my femme side and embracing it. I really did and do love butch genders, and I really enjoyed playing with a butch gender on my own body, something that I still play with on occasion, I do own a black pinstripe suit and a few ties, I do enjoy going to the drag king side of my personality, as opposed to the drag queen which is my primary gender expression.

So, while I still love my butch cock, he is not quite me anymore. I have also used him quite enough on myself, which seems a little strange for my cock to have been used inside me. Perhaps this is a small point, and I think it is in some ways, but it is what I feel. It’s not that I don’t think that I could use my cock within myself, I just have used it maybe too many times. I love Leo for me, and for packing, and for fucking, but it’s not my cock anymore, it’s a dildo.

My cock needs to be femme. And my new femme cock needs to be scarlet. My scarlet femme cock is going to be gorgeous, and will make my lovers salivate at the thought of it, and it will be my femme cock. My femme cock will have a femme expression as well. She will be fabulous and perfect. And I’m not limiting myself to just one femme cock, but I need a primary one.

I found a fabulous red glitter cock at Cahoots, a sex toy/novelty store not too far from my house. However, I’m not sure how I feel about having the balls attached. It could be interesting, but, may not be quite right. But I LOVE the red glitter. It kind of makes me think of The Wizard of Oz, which makes me want it even more. It is definitely a femme cock. The problem with it, too is it is jel-lee (which I would have to use a condom with, which isn’t horrible, but could be annoying) and I would much prefer a silicone cock.

The other I’ve been eyeing is General. The common problem of both of them is that they’re both rather thick (not to mention General is expensive!). That’s not always bad, and apparently I’m just drawn to having a big cock, which makes sense as it would fit the rest of me. However, I’m sure I would want to use it for anal play quite often, so that could be an issue. I would almost have to have a female partner before I could justify a cock which did not go well with anal play. Both dildos would be lovely for cock sucking, but I’m not sure how much Master is down with sucking my cock. My primary femme cock would need to be not as thick as the other two, but I would want to get the glitter one for style as well as function.

I’m enamored with Tiger as well as the P-Spot and Luxury. Perhaps getting P-Spot or Luxury and the Wizard of Oz (WoO) cock might be a perfect combination. The P-Spot is (as you could guess) made for the prostate, but I would guess that it would be nice for getting the g-spot during anal sex as well. The WoO cock may be best for receiving blow jobs and a nice vaginal cock (with condom). This may mean I need to invest in more condoms.

Any suggestions for other fabulous femme cocks for me to look at? I would like to refrain from the jelly if possible, but I have yet to find a cock as fabulous as the WoO cock.

As you may have noticed, I’ve changed the title yet again, though this time a minor change from “feminist” to “femmeinist.” Now, the difference is subtle, but I believe there is a big difference. Traditionally feminism has tried to lead women to more androgynous looks, and has really frowned upon femininity as just something which the patriarchy has thought up, a male fantasy, and not something that we should buy into.

As Julia Serano said in Whipping Girl “Even many feminists buy into traditionally sexist notions about femininity–that it is artificial, contrived, and frivolous; that it is a ruse that only serves the purpose of attracting and appeasing the desires of men… After all, as a concept, feminism is much like the ideas of “democracy” or “Christianity.” Each has a major tenet at its core, yet there are a seemingly infinite number of ways in which those beliefs are practiced. And just as some forms of democracy and Christianity are corrupt and hypocritical while others are more just and righteous we… must… forge a new type of feminism, one that understands that the only way for us to achieve true gender equity is to abolish both oppositional sexism* and traditional sexism.**”

Femmeinist thought, however, embraces femininity and femmeininity, and is working toward that new type of feminism (or, femmeinism). While currently gender politics is still working on abolishing oppositional sexism*, traditional sexism** still abounds. It is in the fact that in order to be “gender neutral” one must look masculine, there is nearly no way to be gender neutral while really taking on feminine characteristics. Femininity must be strong, otherwise it wouldn’t be that if someone is wearing make up or a skirt that seems to automatically negate any other masculine gendered performance.

Something I came across here via The Femme Show was a definition of what femme is, or can be: “[the femme is] a betrayer of legibility itself. Seemingly “normal,” she responds to “normal” expectations with a sucker punch– she occupies normality abnormally.” – Lisa Duan and Kathleen McHugh from “A Fem(me)inist Manifesto” This is why part of my idea of who can be femme or not does not have to do only with sexuality. Femme is not about who you sleep with, though it can be, but there are plenty of feminine lesbians who are not femme. Femme is about consciousness: a conscious genderfuck in the rouse of traditional femininity. Anyone who consciously takes on the role of femininity as a deviant identity can be femme. Though, I believe it is easier for those who are already outside of social norms, such as lesbians and bisexual women, to come to a queer femininity and embrace it.

Femme is not something that sneaks up on you (though, it can sneak up on you in some ways, but there must be a conscious awareness to it as well), there is a definite change that happens from feminine to femme, or butch to femme or butch to genderqueer to femme (as was, in some ways, my transition). There is a transition, as with any trans identity: female to femme, perhaps. There is a wonderful movie which I am dying to see (I’ve only seen the trailer for it) which is called FtF: Female to Femme (you can view the trailer here). It seems like a step in the right direction.

I have so much more to say about femme, so many more ideas, and I will have more posts on it in the near future. This is kind of a rough-draft. Expect more and deeper investigation.

* oppositional sexism – “The belief that female and male are rigid, mutually exclusive categories, each posessing a unique and nonoverlapping set of attributes, aptitudes, abilities, and desires.”
** traditional sexism – “The belief that maleness and masculinity are superior to femaleness and femininity.”

Butch is a Noun is a book I’ve been eyeing for months, but have not actually gotten around to buying yet, by S. Bear Bergman. I found this youtube video of him reading the first chapter of the book, which is called What Butch Is, which I have been told is the best part of the book. You can even read along (or read again, or re-read or watch and then read along) with the PDF excerpt available at Bear’s site.

I am going to watch it a second time… and maybe a third and fourth and…

Along the same lines (of butch/femme) Visible: a femmethology has a call for submissions going on. It is due June 1st, and I am working on a piece for it, though I’m worried with everything going on and the trip and everything if I will be able to get it together in time. I’m hoping I will.

Some more information: “Visible: a femmethology is a forthcoming anthology about the power and complications in presenting femme as a gender and breaking the traditional meaning of feminine. It aims to showcase personal essays exploring what “femme” means to those who claim it as an identity.”

Much more information on their website

I never knew there was a term for me already (somewhat) embraced and widespread in the community! This is why I NEED to be in San Fran and not fucking Salt Lake City. This and so many other reasons…

I love it, though I still prefer my femme drag queen gender to faux queen, it seems so… fake? I mean, if you think about it, in some ways bio-females hyperenacting femininity similar to drag queen femininity is just as if not more disrupting to the idea of gender as natural than male drag queens. At least, I think so. The trouble is getting to a place where you’re performing that hyper-femininity, and most of the time that is not easy unless you go completely over the top, which can be difficult.

Of course, I was thinking earlier how it would be wonderful to dress as a boy. I do embrace genderqueer as well, among other labels. While I’m a pomo girl I also think that labels have their usefulness, especially in a society which automatically labels, and so I choose to label myself.