I’ve never been one to be huge on stats. Although I definitely think they’re interesting and I love looking around at who got to my sites from where and what they looked at I don’t care much for numbers. I would rather have dedicated readers that care and comment then hundreds of readers who only sort of pay attention. For that matter, even if I didn’t have anyone reading this blog I would still be writing it, because it’s as much for me as it is for you… or maybe more for me.

Lately I’ve not been writing as much as I had been previously, basically since my relationship with Marla really took off. I regret that and really wish I had been posting more stuff about not just our relationship but also my everyday life and what is going on. Part of the reason I haven’t is I’m not sure what I want to reveal and what I don’t. When Onyx and I used to have issues I would voice them here, but in the last year or so I’ve tended to sugarcoat things more often than not, afraid that something will be taken the wrong way or taken as a constant even if it is a passing annoyance.

This is the trap of publishing something, even online. Once it’s down in text and out there for anyone to see it becomes more difficult to take back just by nature of being out there. Language is powerful, as I have preached before in other circumstances, but I think I’m overthinking things, as per usual. I need an outlet of some kind, and writing is the easiest way for me to do that.

So I’m going to try to write like noone is reading, write for myself rather than anyone else. I’ve been contemplating utilizing the password protection feature of wordpress, or even my livejournal which has sat practically unused since I started this blog, but that doesn’t appeal to me as much as having an open and honest space to spill my inner monologue and just get it out there. I’m just worried that a mind dump will be detrimental rather than helpful because it will do lasting damage that outweighs the satisfaction of getting my feelings out there. Then again, this may not be a bad thing.

Granted, this has never been a complete dumping ground for my random thoughts, I do have structure and I do keep in mind that these words are read, and I have often avoided more personal subjects (relatively speaking, as sex and relationships are definitely personal but a personal of a different kind. However, I have a tendency to hold everything in until I explode and I don’t want to do that. I just need to figure out the best way to do that.

If there were a Venn-diagram for non-monogamous relationships it would probably start as a big circle for non-monogamy. Inside that would be polyamory and inside that would be polyfidelity. Each of these circles would be blurry or maybe dotted lines instead of hard ones. Each circle would overlap with multiple other relationship configurations and various other types of relationship orientations and… well, maybe a Venn-diagram isn’t the most helpful illustration.

When defining a term that has to do with relationships or personal identities in any manner there is always some level of fluidity and openness to take into account. You may know this already, but I’m starting with the basics.

In the book Opening Up Tristan Taormino defines polyfidelity as “a multipartner group of three or more people who have made a commitment to each other to be in a primary relationship.” This can be different or exactly the same as polyamory simply depending on the identification of those within the group. There are no hard and fast lines here, and the terms really just depend on what the people within the relationship are most comfortable with.

Despite the “fidelity” part of the term, which makes most people think of having closed sexual conduct polyfidelity does not always exclude other relationships outside of the polyfidelitous group. Fidelity essentially means “faithful” and doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with sexual faithfulness (though it can). Taormino describes two types of polyfidelitous groups: closed and open, meaning closed or open to new relationships outside of the primary. Not all members of a polyfidelitous group have to be sexually involved, either.

While I dislike the terms “primary” and “secondary” or so on and I think maybe a better way to describe it is that everyone in a polyfidelitous relationship is committed to everyone else. Even if there isn’t a sexual or romantic relationship between the individuals there is always an emotional one and a commitment to being with the other in some way shape or form.

As I mentioned, this could look identical to polyamory or it could look completely different, it just depends on how the individuals want to identify.

So, why am I writing all this about polyfidelity? I will probably be using it in the future and now I can reference this post whenever I mention it.

I posted a while ago about our transition from mono to poly to triad and Not long after that I brought this difference up to Marla and Onyx and we all agreed that the definition for polyfidelitous fit our relationship.

Generally speaking the term triad is used to describe a polyfidelitous relationship between three people, so we had already kind of figured that out but at the same time I’m a sucker for semantics and finding new terms and labels to describe myself so that I can add them on to the long list of labels I already embrace to make such a long string of labels I eventually essentially become label-less again, though that’s another post.

Another term Taormino mentions in Opening Up is “trilationship” which is fairly self-explanatory I think. I pronounce it similar to tree-lationship so it sounds similar to relationship only different–also because pronouncing it try-lationship is kind of awkward. This is another term I will be using in the future.

Cross-posted on The Femme’s Guide here.

Femme–an identity that has caused controversy, celebration and ridicule–is now the topic of a two-volume set from Homofactus Press and editor Jennifer Clare Burke titled Visible: A Femmethology. Femmethology calls the LGBTQI community on its own prejudice and celebrates the diversity of individual femmes. Award-winning authors, spoken-word artists, and totally new voices come together to challenge conventional ideas of how disability, class, nationality, race, aesthetics, sexual orientation, gender identity and body type intersect with each contributor’s concrete notion of femmedom. - from femmethology.com

This month of April marks something I’ve been waiting for quite some time: the Femmethology virtual blog tour! Today is lucky enough to be my day, and so I’m sharing some of my feelings and insights related to the Femmethology. Visit Daphne Gottlieb tomorrow for her day, and all the sites at the bottom of the post on their days.

First, a little about the Femmethology:
Visible: A Femmethology

Femmethology is essential—a roadmap of Femme Nation, an index, an anthropology, a manifesto, and a googleology. – Dorothy Allison

Visible: a Femmethology is a two-volume anthology of essays revolving around femme identity.

I’ve been discovering and embracing my multigendered identity lately, but in that multigendered identity there is a solidly femme identity as well, which these books helped me remember.

Not that I had forgotten my femme identity, I just had been focusing more consciously on my fagette identity than my femme because it was new and in a way easier to focus on because it’s more visible (though only slightly). The identities in no way are opposites, they are complimentary, but they are also different. Reading through the Femmethology in a way re-connected me with my femme identity.

The biggest benefit of the Femmethology, in my opinion, is that it helps remind us that we are not alone as femmes. While some of us have many femme friends and a wonderful support system the rest of us do not and we have to navigate the world without much reassurance and reminders that there are so many of us out there feeling the same things. This is one of the reasons I started The Femme’s Guide in the first place, to emphasize that there are many of us out there, and while we’re all different we are also all the same.

I was moved many times throughout the two volumes. There were authors I knew well or moderately well, from various avenues such as Sinclair Sexsmith, Sassafras Lowrey, and Tara Hardy. There were many other authors that I didn’t know anything about, but I was able to get to know something about them through their stories.

Many stories touched me to the core, rocked me, and left me dazed and contemplating my own stories and my own identities.

I feel that Visible: A Femmethology is not just a book or anthology meant to be read, though it certainly is that as well, it’s also a look into each of these femme’s lives and voices, an adventure into different types of femme-ininity and different experiences that all somehow are similar because of this identity we all embrace and inhabit. It shows the vastness of femme while also showing what unites us.

It screamed “you are not alone” to me right when I needed it.

From the Introduction to the anthology: “Femme means I won’t compromise on complexity. … Above all, my femme is not your femme, which is the good news. … Femme means my sexuality, my partner choices, my definitions and my gender presentation might not match your labels.”

You can order Volume 1 and Volume 2 through the fabulous Homofactus Press.

You can also hear Sinclair Sexsmith reading his Love Letter to Femmes!

Check out the blogs below on the associated dates to learn more about the Femmethology volumes:
4/1. Sugarbutch Chronicles
4/2. Ellie Lumpesse
4/3. Queer-o-mat
4/4. CyDy Blog
4/6. Catalina Loves
4/7. cross-post: The Femme’s Guide and Femme Fagette
4/8. Daphne Gottlieb
4/9. Bilerico Project
4/10. Screaming Lemur: Femme-inism and Other Things
4/13. The Femme Hinterland
4/14. Bochinche Bilingüe: Borderlands Writing and The Vagina Adventures
4/15. Dorothy Surrenders
4/16. Miss Avarice Speaks Her Mind
4/17. The Femme Show
4/19. Sexuality Happens
4/20. Queer Fat Femme
4/21. Sublimefemme Unbound
4/22. Tina-cious.com and Jess I Am (butch-femme couple day!)
4/23. FemmeIsMyGender
4/24. The Lesbian Lifestyle
4/25. Femme Fluff
4/26. Weldable Cookies
4/27. The Verbosery
4/28. A Consuming Desire and Creative Xicana
4/29. Queercents
4/30. en|Gender

Our life has settled far from where I thought it would when I first started this blog. Onyx and I were trying for an Owner/cuntpet relationship, which was originally the basis of this blog, along with erotica and such. We were struggling to work in that dynamic, both of us thinking that’s what we wanted. It just didn’t work. Neither of us are cut out for the roles we were trying to adopt, not with each other anyway.

We have found what works for us, which defaults to Onyx as Top and me as bottom sexually, but basically equals and often me in charge outside of sexual play. This is wonderful because this is what works. This works because this is how we fit together. However, I still want more.

I have all these fantasies that aren’t played out because he’s not the person who can give them to me. This is where poly comes in real handy, because one of the foundations of both of our desires for polyamory comes from the knowledge that one person is not necessarily going to fulfill every single need of another person. If that were true, no one would have any friendships outside of relationships (though some people do this, but… that’s a whole other issue). Most needs can be fulfilled, and for many the way to get the rest fulfilled is friendships, for others it’s other sexual relationships, etc.

Back to the original point, however. Onyx and I work so very well together on so many different levels, but anything more than a Top/bottom power dynamic just does not seem to work. We expect more from each other in that situation than either of us ends up giving, which just ends up blowing up and making us miserable. Here’s to getting out of that pattern!

However, I still have these desires for other types of power dynamics. I touched on this a little bit not too long ago, but I feel the need to go into it deeper.

I desire to serve someone who knows how to “put me in my place.” Someone who doesn’t tolerate my brattyness and makes me submit to them, not necessarily in a forceful way to break my spirit, but by sitting back and letting me know that resisting will just mean I don’t get what I actually want: submission, approval, to come, etc.

Someone who will give me tasks during the day, keep me on edge, give me constant reminders of our roles in subtle but demanding ways. Someone who not only wants me to submit to them but who wants to dominate me, who enjoys the challenge, who appreciates and respects me and my ideas but also knows how to talk as equals while also maintaining our power dynamic in the background. Someone who just feels right. Someone to be owned by, loved by, and cherished by. The fucking and coming and beating and moaning would all be icing on top of the power play connection too, of course.

Yes, I realize this is asking for a lot.

On the flip side, I also desire someone to control. Someone I can do the above to, who I can train to perfection and take pride in. Someone I can own and play with and all that other good stuff. Basically the same as above, but from the other side.

I want it all, of course, and often consider changing my name to Veruca Salt.

None of this is to say that I’m dissatisfied with Onyx and myself, or with what I imagine Marla and I will end up interacting power-wise. I simply want to experience all of these different dynamics. The ones above are just two of the possible ones, but the two that I’m currently wanting and not getting.

It’s strange, though, to be both sated and craving at the same time, but that’s how I feel. I’m at once content and desirous of more. Loving where I am, but hoping, ultimately, that I will find people to fit into the other needs I have in the future. It’s a strange place to be, but it seems my constant state: sated but wanting, content yet craving, happy with what I have yet greedy for more.

There are so many ways to play with and express gender and gender deviance, from subtle to in-your-face and everywhere in between. What I’ve been trying to figure out in the last few weeks is how to reconcile my femme and fagette identities into a conceivable whole. I’m often not sure it’s even possible, but I’m trying at least.

I was asked not too long ago on FetLife “how do you find the harmony of being both without being confused or feel like you’re betraying one half of yourself at the expense of expressing the other?”

Part of my response:
“Unfortunately, I don’t have a good answer for that question. I do often feel confused or like I am betraying parts of myself, but I can only realize that there is almost no way to not feel that way and in realizing try not to feel that betrayal. It’s difficult to almost never have my own gender perceived or acknowledged by those around me. I think that is one of the worst things about being gender-fluid, or any sort of multigendered, that it’s difficult or nearly impossible to get validation from others on your gender because there’s not an easy way to express gender fluidity, if it can be expressed at all in all it’s vastness. Since people want to categorize everyone they meet and since we are conditioned to view gender as binary it’s difficult to exist outside of that binary in the gender galaxy at large.”

My issue with this moves beyond being multigendered into the fact that not only am I multigendered but that due to my appearance I’m easily read by the outside world as cisgendered. It’s similar to femme invisibility, though the issue is gender invisibility rather than queer invisibility. While femme is a large part of my gender identity it is not all of it.

Femme gender and queerness is what is invisible, what people have trouble seeing or what people gloss over. Because my primary gender presentation is femme I have the same issues but with the added fagette twist. This isn’t to say that my invisibility is more than that of femmes because it’s not, it’s just a slightly different kind of the same invisibility.

Of course, it doesn’t help that I’m involved with a cisgendered male. I’m used to people not seeing my queerness especially when we’re together, and I’m used to people not seeing my fagette side because it can also look very femme.

It’s human nature to look for recognition in others, and look for others like you. Even while I’m used to people not seeing these things in me that doesn’t mean I still don’t want them to. I am slowly coming to embrace the fact that it doesn’t matter as much what other people see as long as I know how I feel and am being me to the best of my ability. It’s difficult, but it’s something I’m trying to do.

A few butches on twitter were talking about cross-dressing a while ago, I know Kyle and Sinclair were among them and don’t remember who else, but they said that when asked if they cross-dress daily they would say no because cross-dressing to them would be wearing a skirt. I began to question my own cross-dressing, and part of me thinks I do cross-dress daily.

I think clothes for me are cross-dressing, clothes for me are drag. Sometimes I think I’ve just internalized pomo rhetoric to the extent that I really don’t feel like I have an inherent draw to some gender or another. I know that even though all gender is drag that doesn’t mean that people don’t have a pull to some sort of gender expression or another. I do have a pull to gender expression, but I don’t know what gender expression is pulling me to it.

I wear skirts. I don’t wear pants. Honestly, I don’t wear pants because they are confining and uncomfortable. Although I can’t say that has nothing to do with the meaning of pants in our society since that is so ingrained in us and I’m sure it’s still ingrained in me, but I can say that my conscious reasoning behind it doesn’t have to do with that.

My only issue with skirt wearing is that it’s difficult to be androgynous in a skirt. Or, let me rephrase: it’s difficult to be perceived as androgynous in a skirt. If I were male in a skirt that would be clear, but female in a skirt seems to be perceived as nothing but feminine. Since cutting my hair short I’ve gotten a few more double-takes, a few more curious looks, but I’m generally dismissed as a short-haired girl regardless of how much I try to play with my femme fagette expression.

There are nights I feel more like a femme and nights I feel more like a fagette, and nights where I’m not sure what the fuck I am. The only harmony I can find is by overanalyzing, exploring, and allowing myself and my gender to grow and evolve.

Recently I’ve been thinking about and exploring the idea of packing. Somehow packing has come up quite a bit in the last few weeks, both in the form of reviews (both Holden and Erin Leone have reviewed packies recently) and pictures (Kyle shared some with us for HNT). I’d been thinking about packing in a peripheral way before these all came out, but they definitely brought it to the forefront for me.

I just recently received Silky in the mail, just yesterday actually. A almost flesh-colored cock that has a bendable spine in the middle enabling the user to bend it to any shape the six inches of shaft can bend to. I enjoy making it S shaped and such just to see how well it bends. Because Silky is so bendable it’s also great for hard packing (as opposed to soft packing). One of the main reasons I got Silky is to see how it works for packing.

I packed with Silky for a while last night, though I did it just around the house. It was unusual, but I definitely liked it. The thing about packing isn’t about wanting to have a penis, at least not for me and not for the people I’ve talked about packing with, it’s more of a focal point for gendered energy. It was a reminder more than anything else, something to draw my attention and to bring my consciousness to my gender.

While I was packing I was wearing a dress. My Silky was not really noticeable under the dress at all, unless I sat cross-legged and the dress draped over Silky, but even when that happened it wouldn’t have been apparent unless one was looking for it. It isn’t meant to be obvious, though, and just the fact that I’m packing under a skirt is genderfucky enough for me. The glaring gender “contradiction” is where I thrive. It’s where I find my harmony, even if no one else knows about it.

Image provided by Callaigh

This is the sixth of many posts with answers to my Size & Sexuality Study questions within them. The responses have not been edited in any way. I hope you find them as interesting and informative as I have. I have gotten a huge number of responses already and I still want more! If you would like to answer these questions you can find more information on The Size & Sexuality Study here.

Read the first: luna[KM]
Read the second: icecoldbath
Read the third: Nadia West
Read the fourth: Dee
Read the fifth: E

Callaigh is a 22 year old who describes herself as “about 98% female. I suppose technically I count as bigendered, as there is a small corner of my brain that identifies as male and likes to check women out, and would fuck them if I had the body to go with. (On the other hand, lesbian sex with a woman as a woman does absolutely nothing for me.) I don’t take particular steps to dress femininely on a regular basis, and have cross-dressed on occasion (and identified, internally at least, as male while en homme.) I don’t feel like I can really call myself bigendered, though, as that seems to exaggerate the presence of my animus — it’s nowhere near half and half, and I consider myself basically female with a little corner of separate, male identity.”

When asked to describe her sexual orientation she says: “[I am] quite heterosexual — both my female and male identities. :p (It took me a few years to figure out that I wasn’t bisexual, though, since I do find women attractive…just from a male point of view.)” Currently “I have a best-friend-I-sleep-with, whom I’ll call Dov here. We’re also currently sharing living quarters, a new experience for me.

Her writing can be read on darknestfantasyerotica.com under the name Callaigh, and she is on FetLife as callaigh_warbright.

What size is your body?
Well, heh, I am 5’6″ and shaped like a female dwarf in World of Warcraft — that’s what I tell most people, and that’s what I have as my “avatar” for this internet handle (attached). Saying that I’m about 250 lbs. can be misleading, since I not only have a large frame, but a not-insignificant amount of muscle, and I also carry my extra weight fairly evenly over my body. People often underestimate my weight by 20 or 30 lbs.; I myself have no concept of what a given weight on a given height looks like, really, so even though I know my numbers I prefer not to use them. I have also used terms to describe myself such as (often ironically) “Renaissance beauty” (I am very fair-skinned and decidedly curvy, but have dark hair and eyes) or “cuddly.” I make an awesome pillow. :)

How comfortable are you with your body both in general and your body size specifically?
I generally feel like I’m pretty comfortable with my body. Most of my concerns about my size are practical ones rather than psychological ones: having a hard time being able to find clothing that fits well, not being able to fit my wide hips into some spaces easily (like opera house seats and armchairs,) being hard on shoes and on my joints, and health concerns like being prediabetic and prone to heart disease. Of course I have the occasional twinge of self-consciousness, but it’s less often over the size of my belly and hips than things like stretch marks or breast shape, or being knock-kneed. I actually have a bit of a problem, because I look in the mirror and see myself as looking pretty good, even when an oufit will later prove itself to be quite, quite unflattering. I think of myself as sexual and sexy, and usually feel that way when it’s appropriate, even if I don’t advertise it and tend to dress rather plainly/modestly most of the time. I just wish I had a more accurate body image so I could avoid some of the more egregious mistakes I’ve made in choosing clothing that doesn’t fit OR flatter. :P

How has your relation with and attitude toward your body and the size of your body changed over time?
I joke that I’ve always been in the 99th percentile in everything, and my size is no exception. My mother is a physician, and so when I was growing up she would put me on her scale and measure my height, then pull out this giant green book of pediatric growth charts and show me where I was. By the end of elementary school, I was off the page — and I wasn’t even that overweight then. She used to warn me sternly that if I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t be able to fit into “regular clothes” anymore and would have to shop in plus sizes. Well, I’m a pretty solid 20/22W now, so so much for that. :p I was also teased mercilessly as a child about my weight, called the Pillsbury Dough-girl (in part because I would yelp when poked in the stomach,) etc. Oddly enough, though, I somehow became determined not to care about my size or become obsessed with dieting and such, in part perhaps because I learned about eating disorders fairly early on, in another part because it was the fashionable thing to do and I had nothing but disdain for the fashionable for a long time, and probably also in part because when someone puts pressure on me about something, especially if it’s a goal I see as being very difficult to accomplish to begin with, I tend to respond with apathy — and my mother, the physician, did her best to impress upon me the dire consequences of obesity in every regard.

How important is sexuality to your life?
I’d say it’s pretty important. Perhaps oddly, my interest in it is largely intellectual, and dealing with where it intersects a lot of my other philosophical/psychological/biological interests, though I have been cognizant of the sexual aspects of my body since at least three years of age.

How has your relation with and attitude toward your sexuality changed over time?
It’s…been an interesting trip. When liking boys and going ga-ga over celebrities was fashionable, I didn’t want anything to do with it. I’ve always had a pragmatic, almost academic approach to relationships, and it didn’t make any sense for me to start dating when it wouldn’t mean anything. I had crushes, of course, after a point, but felt that it was just way too early for me to start anything physical, or even a serious emotional relationship. Even in high school I told my boyfriend (who wasn’t supposed to be my boyfriend — we were just supposed to be dating-as-in-going-on-dates) never to “kiss me with desire.” Of course, I was also coming off a three-year radical Catholicism spree in which I learned that oh by the way that thing you’ve been doing since you were three? Sin against God and your future spouse. Oops. Yeah, I gave myself a lot of grief over that before I just sort of got over it and gave up. There are still echoes of that idea that fantasizing about others is disrespectful — I don’t ever have long, drawn-out narrative fantasies, only brief kinesthetic flashes of desire — and I still have an abiding distaste for “real people” porn. (Finding Dov FUCKING SEXY when he’s just gotten out of the shower, though? Totally cool with me. I suspect he doesn’t mind either.)

One thing I do still find problematic is reconciling two kinds of innocence: innocence of knowledge and innocence of guilt.. I feel that in our society too often sexual experience, especially for women, equates to guilt: experienced women are soiled, marred, impure, and disposable, subject to everyone’s desire if they are subject to that of one person, even themselves (c.f. my paranoia about being found out for owning a dildo.) But I can’t pretend that I’m innocent of knowledge anymore, at least not to myself. (To my parents, and to those whose no business it is, well. That’s another thing entirely.) I boggled the other day that, in saying that Dov is a fantastic kisser, I realized I had six other people to compare him to. By some people’s standards, that makes me a slut.

But I haven’t done anything wrong. I still feel childlike, innocent and, yes, pure. And why shouldn’t I feel that way? I haven’t hurt anyone or done anything irresponsible or betrayed some essential nature of myself — quite the contrary. So I say that while I am not innocent of knowledge, and thank god for that — I have never valued naiveté, and did a lot of self-sexual-education before I ever was even considering a sexual relationship with someone — I am innocent of guilt. And I’m not going to let anyone else convince me otherwise.

How comfortable are you with expressing yourself and your body sexually?
That very much depends on context. I still find that being seen as sexual by the body politic tends to invite unwanted attention and provoke unwarranted assumptions that I just don’t want to deal with, so I dress modestly and conduct myself demurely in general — and I just don’t think it would be in my nature to advertise my proclivities even if there weren’t any consequences. However, in certain contexts — with someone I’m involved with, obviously, or (to take one strange example) on the dance floor of a club, the usual order of things is not present and so I can be sexual and still be safe without worrying about losing respect. (One funny story about clubs, though: I’ve only been “clubbing” once, and took great glee in inverting the usual “booty dancing” protocol — I had boys dancing on my hips, my legs between theirs and my hand firm against the small of their backs, pulling their bodies against me: instead of presenting myself as an object of desire, which role I’ve never been comfortable accepting because it is too passive and too dependent one externals except in close relationships, and involves too much of a giving-over of power to the eyes of the beholder (hah!), I decided to let the boys come to me, myself remaining unabashed and confirmed in my own sexiness. And they did. :3 It was delicious.)

How comfortable is society with the idea of viewing your body as sexual?
Probably not very comfortable, haha! I’m curvy, but I’m nowhere near the “ideal” curviness that seems to be cropping up as the alternative proposed by size-positive groups. The ideal hasn’t been abolished; just moved — see the Dove ads, for one. For another, less idealistic example, I’ve noticed that “chubby” appreciation threads on 4chan (a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but it passes the time upon occasion) mostly just have normal-sized women…with extremely large breasts. I’m proportional. On a smaller woman, my breasts would be a C-cup, though on me they’re a D because of the weirdness with the way bra sizes work. A girl who was rather slimmer than I (though still “chubby”) with proportionally larger breasts, posted pictures of herself and was told that she “really drew the short stick; your boobs are kinda small for a fat chick.” That said, society can go fuck itself, by and large, because I have had PLENTY of affirmation that there’s a good chunk of the population that thinks I’m damn hot. :p I don’t demand that the maximum number of people find me attractive; in fact, I think that would be a burden! That said, people who would find me attractive solely because I fit into a certain size category piss me off no matter what size they see as ideal. I am not a size. I’m not “a BBW” any more than I’m a 36-24-36. I’m me, dammit, not a collection of checkmarked traits. I don’t have a “type” (for men) — who I find attractive is largely based on how close I feel to them, how much solidarity and understanding exists between us. If someone finds me attractive just because I’m “their type,” I tend to view that attraction as ungenuine, and more likely to be debunked later when they recognize all the traits of mine that don’t fit their type. (Strangely enough, though…with women, I do have a general type, and a girl who fits it will literally turn my head. I like hips. A lot. Of course, there is the added layer that I don’t see myself as having very close relationships with other women, even friendships — I tend to get along better with guys — and due to the exigencies of biology, I don’t see myself ever pursuing a sexual relationship with a woman unless they come up with some way of body-swapping on demand so I can have the male body to suit the male part of my brain that likes to interrupt my train of thought when a hot girl walks by.)

Through answering these questions and/or thinking about your relation to your body and your sexuality, have you noticed any links or similarities between the two? If so, what?
Er. I suppose I take a pragmatic, accepting approach to both in a society that is rather fond of dealing with both in idealized, judgmental ways.

The more I look back over the comments on this post, you know the one, the one I wrote about already, the more I think I reacted poorly. And, well, I’m sure I did, as all my reactions were emotional reactions, either a “ouch I’m hurt” reaction or a “I offended you, I’m bad, I’m sorry” reaction. Neither of which made me react in a way that was at all constructive.

Honestly I’m not sure how to be constructive in a situation like that. The people involved were obviously looking for something to be offended about rather than trying to understand my experiences. Maybe I should have ignored it all together, but it really really hurt me, so much so that I felt I had to respond in some way. If only I could get them to understand what I actually meant… but rationally I knew that nothing I said would change their minds, and so I went for the other route: apologize until they realize it was unintentional. Well, that didn’t do me any good either.

Something that helped me yesterday after this first started was a piece by Madeline H. Wyndzen a transsexual psychologist titled Why are Trassexuals so mean to each other? which applies not because I’m a transsexual (I think I’ve made that clear) but because the reaction that she’s talking about is actually pretty universal, and I think transsexual people react this way to someone who is outside gender lines as well.

This is my first interaction that I can think of where a post of mine offended someone enough for them to personally attack me. I’ve gotten personal attacks before, but never on my blog, never on the subject of my gender, and never due to me being offensive to someone else. I tend to be hypersensitive toward others, which is why something like this is such a blow to me when it happens because I tend to err on the side of caution. I’ve made mistakes before, sure, and I’ve misspoken, but never to the point of being so blatantly attacked.

Looking back, one big thing I would do differently is I would stand my ground more firmly. I wasn’t appropriating trans experience by using the same language. I wasn’t even close to that, they chose to interpret my words that way. By saying I have cissexual privilege somehow that makes it okay for them to ridicule me but not okay for me to use similar language or identify with a quote from someone who was not even considering transitioning when he wrote it? Would my gender issues be more valid if I transitioned? Probably in their eyes.

What does claiming to have a more difficult time being marginalized compared to other marginalized groups get us? Nothing. No, wait, it gets us squabbling within groups that should be supportive rather than the support that the people within the groups actually need.

I do find it ironic that the first attacking comment made to me focused on telling me that I failed at my gender. What trans person doesn’t hear that at some point in their life? The gender failure was partially intentional as every gender fails, all gender is drag, and no gender is perfect, which is something I enjoy playing up when possible.

I also find it ironic that I was told that the gender I feel on the inside isn’t real by a trans person. Let me say that again: a trans person told me that the gender I feel on the inside is not real. Um… does anyone else see the obvious flaw here?

This brings me back to Why are Trassexuals so mean to each other? by Madeline H. Wyndzen. Her big point is that it’s a defense mechanism, one quote which is particularly apt is: “a lot of us feel this need to put others down in order to feel better about ourselves. And many of us are hypersensitive to ‘criticism’ so we can often misread an innocuous remark as though it was saying something invalidating about us personally.” It’s easy to read something offensive into something when you’re looking for it to be offensive or if you are hypersensitive to anything that might possibly be offensive if taken the wrong way.

Another thing she said also rang true for this situation: “if anybody really bothered to challenge if I’m a “real girl” or a “real transsexual”, I would just go “whatever” and think they really need to get a grip and not waste so much of their time deciding what I ‘really’ am.” Basically, why do they even care that I’m using the same language? Why does it matter to them what I call myself or don’t call myself? Shouldn’t that only matter to me?

As Elizabeth pointed out in the comments of my last post, this issue wasn’t actually a misunderstanding and that probably the best thing to have done in the situation was not to engage them, especially since I knew it wouldn’t do any good.

Gabe has helped me come to the ideas in this post as well, mostly to make me realize how bad it was of me to give in like I did, essentially placating anything that they said to appease them rather than standing my ground. He was nice about it, probably nicer than he should have been.

I have a tendency to roll over and give someone anything they want if they are telling me I offended them. I will do just about anything to try to make them not hate me, as that is something that hurts me inside and out, it’s not rational, but it’s the way I work. Like I said above, I reacted in a “I offended you, I’m bad, I’m sorry” way which was not at all constructive.

Overall if I had to do it again there would be many differences, at least in theory. I’m not sure, should something like this happen again (and, let’s face it, it’s the internet and a touchy subject so it’s bound to happen again), I’m not sure I could actually disregard my automatic “coddle and appease until they don’t hate me” reaction, but maybe I’ll remember this situation and at very least wait to respond until I have something better to say, or just not respond at all.

*quote from House Season 4 Episode 11 “Frozen.” Used because I tend to be hypersensitive to the feelings of others, and often nice beyond the realm of necessity.

My heart hurts a little. I woke up yesterday to an attack on my gender, which if you follow me on twitter you’ve probably already heard about.

I wrote a post not too long ago on The Femme’s Guide about my newfound femme fagette identity, my multigendered femme identity and I was hoping for a while that more people would comment on it, so I suppose this is the one of those “be careful what you wish for” moments.

I woke up to this comment:

Hi.

You are a cissexual person appropriating the expriences of trans women and other MtF-side trans people.

Wearing a feather boa and badly-applied lipstick that is the wrong color for you with your t-shirt and half-assed fauxhawk does not make you a drag queen and isn’t even particularly femme.

You are not a starfish, snowflake, or magical twinkling unicorn, and your personal identity is not a form of activism.

Pretty much a direct personal attack on my person, my gender, and my appearance. I replied well, or so I thought, but apparently I was being condescending and though I was trying not to be defensive it’s difficult not to be defensive when someone is out and out attacking you.

The comments went on, but one person stopped commenting and another took over. This second commenter was much more reasonable and constructive, she didn’t attack just told me to pay attention, basically, which I am grateful for. You can read all the comments here, many of which are insightful and thoughtful not just personal attacks.

The big issue that was offensive was they thought I was trying to appropriate trans experiences, which I wasn’t. Here is part of my latest comment:

When I talk about gender I’m not talking about anything “biological.” Never in the post did I talk about my sex, only my gender, and I get attacked with “you’re cissexual trying to be a trans woman” which is not at all what I’m saying. Am I cissexual? Very probably. I’ve never had a real affinity toward my sex, I don’t “feel” female (whatever that means) but I don’t feel male either so I’ve thought about reassignment surgery but, like the quote above, I’ve “decided that would not resolve my gender conflicts.” (Note: the quote I am referring to is the same one in this post) Part of the reason I love that quote. As Riki Wilchins said, you can say “I feel like a woman trapped in a man’s body” (or in my case, woman’s) and get results, but if you say “I feel like a herm trapped in a man’s body” people don’t understand and would think you’re crazy. (And I do know hermaphrodite is not a positive word, I was, however, quoting Riki from the book Genderqueer.) If I had my way I would be able to change sex frequently, but since I can’t do that, that’s what my gender and strap-ons are for. ;) (Though I know that’s not the same as transitioning, that’s supposed to be a bit of a joke.)

As for appropriation, I wasn’t trying to appropriate trans experiences in any way shape or form. This comes down to a language issue. Am I transsexual? No. Do I feel like Patrick did when he wrote the quote above? Definitely. I was agreeing with his sentiments, using the same language, and he wasn’t transitioning then either. The problem is that I don’t have any language for what I’m feeling or experiencing, the best I can do is use the language around me and try to make sense of myself as best I can. Just because I use language that sounds similar to trans experiences doesn’t mean I’m claiming to be trans, it just means I don’t have any better words, and that’s my fault for not finding any. I am multigendered. I never claimed to be trans in the post and I’m not trying to claim to be transsexual. I may be transgendered but that depends on the definition. I do not use gender and sex interchangeably.

Through these comments (the constructive ones, anyway) I have been made to think more about my gender and my definitions and experiences. I may repeat myself a bit from the quote above, so apologies if I do.

While I’m not transitioning I haven’t ruled it out completely, I just don’t think it would solve anything. I don’t feel female or male, I’m not sure what that’s supposed to feel like. I like having breasts and orifices, but I also like having a cock (though mine’s silicone, granted, and that’s not the same). I like the idea of growing facial hair, of my voice deepening, but I like my breasts and don’t want to get rid of them. I’ve felt for a while that I would feel most “me” as an intersexed person, somewhere between male and female. I’m not trying to appropriate the experiences of an intersexed person, I’m just saying I don’t feel male or female.

I have been feeling more masculine lately, not sure why I just have, more of my fagette side than the femme. Yet I don’t wear pants. Granted, gender is more than the clothes you wear it’s an attitude, a feeling, which is partly why my masculine gender is fagette as it’s a feminine masculinity. I never wear pants, or, almost never, I wear pants when I go to the gym and that’s pretty much it. Can I be masculine in a skirt or dress? I think so! Though not all would.

The big issue here is it is felt that I am trying to appropriate trans experiences. This too, is a limitation of language. I’m not transsexual, I freely admit that, and I’m not trying to say that I’m a trans woman, far from it! I used similar language, but I did not mean to appropriate anything. I do not think my experience is in any way shape or form similar to that of a trans woman.

I do think I am transgendered, however, though that depends highly on the definition of transgender, and I usually use genderqueer over transgender but they are similar though not the same. I know that is not the same as being transsexual (in my and many others definition). I don’t feel like I fit in with my culturally assigned gender. I am not a typical femme (whatever that means) or a typical feminine female, I embrace masculinity and femininity and rework them into me in a way that works for me. I enjoy drag of every kind, and I love to change my gender expression at the drop of a hat. I’m genderqueer.

When I walk down the street do I think that people see my gender as I see it? Not at all. I’m not easily identifiable, as I’m not easily categorized. I use the terms femme and fagette but what do either of those really mean outside of my own definitions? They’re so open to interpretation that I often don’t know what I mean by them, but I know I identify with them.

I try to learn as much as I can about gender and sex differences. I have a degree in Gender Studies focused on gender and sexuality issues. I try not to be offensive but obviously that doesn’t always happen. I try to understand as much as I can, but I don’t think it’s possible to fully understand the experience of another even if you have gone through a similar experience and definitely not if your experiences don’t come close. I have read a lot, but it’s never enough to avoid misunderstandings like this. I don’t really have any answers yet, but I’m thinking about it, and I think that’s important.

Although I was caused much pain yesterday from the hurtful and attacking way the comments started I’m glad that this issue was brought to my attention, as it’s not something I had considered before. I admit my own ignorance on this freely. All I can do is learn from the experience and try to be more precise with my wording in the future.

A few quick thoughts tonight. I feel like I have so much to write about and so much to do lately that I’m not really getting anything done, which irritates me. More posts to come!

I’ve been thinking a lot about this quote lately, from PoMoSexuals “Identity Sedition and Pornography” by Pat Califia p. 88 emphasis mine:

Just to set the record straight: I am a female-bodied person who writes about every kind of person I can imagine. Although I briefly contemplated sex reassignment when I was much younger, I decided that would not resolve my gender conflicts. I’m never sure if I have a gender dysphoria or species dysphoria. I often try to explain that I’m really a starfish trapped in a human body and I’m very new to your planet. Or that in fact I am a woman trapped in a man’s body, which really confuses other people but makes sense to me.

It’s fitting where I feel I fit, where I’ve felt for a while. The drag queen masculine femininity that I cling to, the femme fagette in me that is starting to come out even more. I’ve found a better way to express it lately I think, which is making me indescribably joyful, and I’m discovering more about it too, which makes me even more happy.

Onyx and I went into Babeland tonight and looked around. I pointed out toys I wanted, toys that are (hopefully) coming to me soon, and things like that. I had my first encounter with Mr. Bendy while looking at dildos and soft packs and he’s seriously lustable! I kind of (very much) want one, great for packing and playing, which I like.

I’m toying with the idea of packing more often, but as I primarily wear skirts and dresses I would need a soft pack or a cock like Mr. Bendy that will stay bent.

The other thoughts rolling around my brain is that Femmeinist Fucktoy isn’t resonating with me as much as it used to. It went down when I discovered my switchness however long ago, as fucktoy is a very bottom-centric term, and it’s gone down again now that fagette is a larger part of my identity as well.

I also don’t talk as much about feminist-oriented things as I thought I would when I started this blog. Granted, I do believe that talking about gender and sexuality is a feminist act, but that’s not quite the same as being a feminist blog.

My point in bringing this up is that I’m pondering changing the name, and therefore also the URL of the blog. It’s easyish to transition to another URL and name, but what I’m thinking of changing it to is Femme Fagette.

In talking with Onyx about this he mentioned that naming the blog after an identity might not be the best thing to do, as my identities tend to fluctuate rapidly. While I agree with that I feel like this identity will stay around for a while, but I don’t really know that for sure. Thoughts?

I feel like I’m discovering a part of myself I buried away, and mostly just because of a different environment. When just about everything around me is changing I feel the most at home. I thrive on change, as I am always in a constant state of change.

I dressed up last night with my hair in a fauxhawk, in lipstick, a bettie page shirt, and purple pants. To that I added a thick purple feather boa (pic above), and I felt come into myself. My newly cut hair makes me smile when I look at my face. I look like me again.

I was trying to be someone else for a while, someone I thought I wanted to be, or someone I thought Onyx wanted, or someone I thought could be, I’m not sure. I look at pictures of me with long hair and I don’t look right. I look like someone else.

Hair cuts can do that. They have power like that. They can change the way a person looks completely, be subtle or drastic, help mold a new identity. I look in the mirror and I wonder how I tried to be anything else.

This isn’t really a new identity. It’s one I’ve been talking about and theorizing for a while, but I needed a change of location to find it, a change of scenery. I’m still everything I’ve ever been and everything I will be, I just look a little different.

I’m finding the perfect way to meld my sway and shimmy with my swagger, and it’s fun.

I’m in such constant change that this doesn’t feel like change, just discovery. By which I mean, I don’t ever feel like I as a whole changes or my core changes, that always stays the same, but everything else changes, which is lots.

I’ve been waiting for something to kick-start me into discovering these new changes. Seattle is just that.

I felt so stagnant and helpless before we moved, and like I couldn’t affect anything since I had no control over when we moved. Ultimately it was Onyx who decided we should move and made it happen, even though I had been telling him we didn’t have to wait and could do it if we decided to. I’d been saying that for months, and it took him realizing that to make it happen.

Now I’m realizing the possibilities of this city. The possibility of being able to embrace a the side of myself I have been rejecting is overwhelming. I’ve already started introducing myself as Scarlet instead of my given name and I love it.

I can be me here, and that’s what’s most exciting.

I feel especially blessed that I have a partner who is willing and eager to share it with me. Someone who is supportive and excited to watch as I discover and change and progress and who finds me sexy and attractive regardless.