Tag: genders Page 4 of 8

New Year's Eve HNT

On December 31, 2008

For the HNT this week we’re supposed to choose our favorite HNT from the year. I’ve done 18 since I started participating in Half-Nekkid Thursdays back at the end of July. I can’t just decide on one, so I’m going to show a few that I particularly loved.

Scarlet Seductions

My first HNT that I think captures a lot about me within it. Original post here.

Baby Dyke

A picture of me from way back in 2002. Short hair, corset, my trademark leopard print coat. Kind of a wonderful way of looking back at my past for me, and one of my favorite photographs of me as well. Original post here.

Bare

A little sexy, a little exposed, a little femme. What else is there to say? Original post here.

Fabulous

Other somewhat “quintessential me” pictures. This is kind of how I see me: fishnets, scarlet corset, leopard print coat. All me. Original post here.

Fabulous (HNT)

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On December 4, 2008

In Introspection

I was feeling fabulous and decided to put on my red leather corset, fishnets, and red and leopard print shoes. I did a few classic pinup poses but photos from my perspective.

I thought my legs looked pretty wonderful, but my boobs looked pretty awesome as well, so I had to get a nice shot of that. Similar perspective, but different focus…

I took a few shots with my leopard print coat, to match the shoes. I’ve had this coat for about nine years, and I still love it! It’s had it’s share of repairs, but is still as fabulous as ever.

And a little back view…

My fabulous drag queen self couldn’t resist showing off today, as my flame is burning bright. I’ve been thinking a lot about my genders lately, and my affinity with Mae West, and if you haven’t read my post on The Femme’s Guide please do! I’m feeling really happy with my body, happier than I have in a while, and I think it shows.

Examination of Two Queered Genders

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On December 4, 2008

In Gender Galaxy, Introspection

Here’s a snippit of my latest post on The Femme’s Guide, though you’ll have to go there to finish it.

Much by accident I just came across this quote:

Marilyn was revered as a tigress, but she was loved (and pitied) as a kitten. In that sense her sexuality did not present a challenge; vulnerability made her manageable–it guaranteed her femininity.

The threat of other lustful man-killers is diminished by intimations of their androgyny. Mae West looked all girl but her style was decidedly butch. “It’s [men’s] game,” she says with trademark smarminess of her multiple, casual seductions in She Done Him Wrong. “I happen to be smart enough to play it their way.” Marlene Dietrich in tux and top hat is also both hyperfeminine and faux homme, a man in drag in drag. –My Enemy, My Love By Judith Levine p. 92

It goes on to talk about the book’s real point in bringing this up: the antipode to the Seducer or femme fatale, The Slave. But, that’s not really what intrigued me about it. I especially love this line: Mae West looked all girl but her style was decidedly butch. It is an angle I hadn’t really contemplated before, but basically Mae West as femme. It’s pretty damn obvious now that I’m thinking about it, but it just wasn’t a connection I’d made before. Though she wasn’t queer in the sense of sleeping with women, but she did have an affinity toward gay men and wrote The Drag.

The two ways used to describe Mae West and Marlene Dietrich are both incredibly queer, while Marilyn Monroe is more of an archetype for traditional femininity. Mae West was femme in look, butch in action, or simply a description of a type of queer femininity, or simply femmeininity. Marlene Dietrich was a man in drag in drag, a queer masculinity on a female body so that it is not the same as masculine because it is also overtly feminine.

Read the rest! It’s fabulous, so go.

Assumptions

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On December 2, 2008

In Introspection

I wrote the following in response to Sinclair’s post defining identity alignment assumptions, basically “the assumption that one’s identity categories align with what is either a stereotype or a dominant compulsory cultural norm.” I ended up writing more than I thought I would, and I have more to add so I thought I’d just convert it into a post on here.

There are many identity alignment assumptions that I struggle with, including the assumption that I’m straight because I’m with a cis-man, the assumption that I’m straight because my primary gender identity is femme, the assumption that my gender expression is traditionally feminine instead of femme, and the assumption that I’m unhealthy or somehow immoral because I’m fat. I’m sure there are more, of course, if I started really thinking about them, but these are the biggest that have been impacting my life lately, especially the first.

I’ve always embraced my difference, and not being visibly different (even moreso recently since I dyed my hair a normal color) is difficult for me in general. I find myself having a difficult time embracing the queer community in general because even though I’ve never been straight and never will be straight I am perceived as straight by many, including many within the queer community. Most people want others to be monosexual, it seems, it’s easier to quantify people that way.

I know that I have some assumptions I make as well, though I’ve noticed that my assumptions are different depending on my location. In Utah I tend to assume most people are mormons and straight, but elsewhere I don’t actually think about what religion or spiritual affiliation people might have, and I tend to assume more people I come across are queer. I do often link gender and sexuality assumptions together, such as assuming masculine females and feminine males are queer, but I also tend to assume general queerness rather than gay/straight binary assumptions.

Occasionally I will try to spend a day purposefully assuming the world is the inverse of what society tells us, that queers are the majority (or total) population, that assumed gender expression doesn’t actually denote the sex of the person, that everyone is polyamorous, and that people won’t automatically judge me by my size. It’s a refreshing and sometimes humbling exercise, though it’s often shattered quite quickly.

[End of the comment: start of the extra]

I actively work on my own assumptions, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have them, though it’s hard for me to pinpoint them. I try to not make the same assumptions about others that I feel others make about me, but I know I do it, like assuming straightness instead of queerness.

These assumptions extend beyond people as well, to places. I find myself making assumptions about Seattle and others make assumptions about Salt Lake City due to the identity associations there. I’ve had people mention being surprised that there is a kink community here, a queer community, pagan and occult communities. People assume that SLC is just a mormon hub that doesn’t have any kind of diversity within it, though they’ve obviously not seen SLC Punk. People are surprised when they find out I live in Salt Lake City, though I don’t wholly blame them because I’m surprised that I live here.

I’m finding myself making the opposite assumptions about Seattle. I know a fair amount about the city itself, and have been reading up on it even more since we decided to move there. I’m excited about the communities there. I assume that it is going to be easier for me to find people I click with there. I assume that because it is more liberal that I won’t feel as shut-in as I do here. I don’t know if these assumptions are in any way correct, however, because I’m not counting on that other factor: me.

Socializing and Me

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On November 16, 2008

In Introspection

I’ve realized lately just how far the extent of my lack of desire to socialize goes. Of course, it’s highly dependent on my mood, and I’ve been rather down lately, mostly because of lacking a job and the inability to get one, having no one want me basically, which really gets my abandonment and rejection issues to the forefront. When I get in these modes I just want to curl up in bed and forget about the rest of the world, which for me usually includes either a book or the internet or some combination thereof.

Though I haven’t forgotten about the rest of the world exactly, either. We went to the local protest here yesterday, and I was happy to know that there were marches like ours going around all across the nation in every state. I was proud to be a part of it, but I did have to force myself to go, because the idea of being with so many people was a little daunting. Once we were there, though, it was fantastic, and it helped me remember why I need a community, but it also made me remember that I’m not a part of the community here.

I’ve been a highly active member of the queer community since I was in high school, but I’ve been absent from my community for a long time, and even now I’m debating getting into it because I know that we are going to leave soon. I don’t want to make friends with new people at this point because I know that we are going to go to (probably) Seattle in just a few months and I hate leaving friends behind. We’re already leaving behind too many friends when we move, I don’t want to add to that number.

At the same time, I crave friendship, which is part of why I’m online so much, I think, why I write in here so much, because I’m trying to create relationships with you, because they’re at least somewhat sustainable. However, the more I think about it, I’m still very guarded and I don’t reach out as much as I want to. This is common for me, but it’s also not a conscious choice, it’s just something that I do.

After my interview for a Sundance Film Festival box office position on Friday I wanted to call and talk with someone about it, so I called Onyx, who was busy taking a certification test and was unable to answer the phone. I went through the phonebook on my phone and realized that the only other person I was comfortable calling was my mom, and she would be busy at work at that time of day. So I didn’t call anyone.

I hope to expand that list of people I can just call whenever something is upsetting me or bothering me or I just want to talk once we move. I’m sure there are others I could have called, in fact I know there were. I could have called my sister, Kat, a couple friends in California, or a few others, but I rank people in my mind who I can and can’t just talk to and, more specifically, whine to.

I do it here too, I categorize what is and isn’t appropriate by how personal it is. Sex and sexuality is definitely personal, but it’s not the same as exposing my emotions and vulnerability. I can be emotionally detached from my gender and sexuality talk, even though it is very personal, because I can categorize it as an academic discussion rather than anything sensitive.

I have a strange sense of what is or isn’t appropriate to post here, and really I should be able to post just about everything here, and I am able to but I definitely censor myself sometimes, and it may just be time to stop.

Kinky vs. Queer vs. Straight Sex

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On November 12, 2008

In Discourse

Something I’ve been thinking of a lot lately has been the differences between “types” of sex and sexual intimacy and encounters. It’s something that both The Leather Daddy and the Femme and PoMoSexuals made me think about a lot, because they both talked about male-female sexual interaction in a non-straight or non-hetero way. They recognized that males and females can interact sexually with each other in a queer way.

One of the main purposes of queer theory is actually to highlight and embrace the fact that no sex is normal/vanilla/straight, or, really, the opposite is emphasized: that all sex is queer. Very little aside from heterosexual missionary for-procreation-only sex is considered acceptable by our fucked up society, while the majority of people have sex that could not be categorized within that extremely narrow social definition.

Granted, ideas of acceptable sexuality have been evolving lately, but I wouldn’t say other types of sex have become any more acceptable, they’re just recognized as “what everyone does” which isn’t exactly an endorsement, though I’ll admit that my vision on this may be skewed by the last two years living in Utah. However, I really don’t think it’s just Utah talking.

So what’s the big difference between queer sex and straight sex? Aside from the usual definition of the sex of the partners (but that also brings into question is it the sex or the gender that matters?) it’s subtle, and may have a lot to do with intention. Can queer hetero sex include missionary sex? I say of course! The wonderful thing about the orbit(/label) queer is that it is very open to interpretation.

Most often the participants of queer sex are queer people, but that brings into the question of what makes someone a queer person. I’d argue that anyone outside of the norm of society is queer in some way, although not everyone would see it that same way. Queer is an important label for same-sex/gender-loving people to embrace, definitely, but I also think queer moves beyond that label as well.

If we define queer as what it’s not, meaning not normal, just about everyone would be able to be labeled queer. I’m not sure if I’ve ever met a normal person in my life, society perpetuates this idea of normalcy, but that doesn’t mean it exists anywhere, and usually those who think they are normal would not be considered normal by others, so where does that leave us?

Personally I dislike the term ‘normal’ for a variety of reasons, including the fact I have a degree in Psychology, but also because I have never believed that normal exists. People are just too damn individualistic for anyone to fit into a stereotypically cookie cutter image of what we are told we should be. Granted, this is a very western concept.

Back to queer sex vs. straight sex: personally I believe there is a different feeling to queer sex than there is to straight sex (though I try not to have straight sex at all, but every once in a while my sex slips into the realm of less-queer). Queer sex just feels a little, well, queer. It feels subversive and non-normal, even if it is normal to us and our bodies and desires. That’s not to say that there is anything wrong with non-normal, quite the contrary, I think it’s necessary.

Queer sex, to me, can happen between people of any sex or gender. The times I feel my sex is slipping into less-queer territory are those instances when Onyx and I have had quickie sex in nearly missionary position (I say nearly because my legs are up and not flat) with little foreplay and sometimes little attention paid to me. This has only happened infrequently, and usually when we’re both tired but wanting sex. I consider it far from the queerer sex we have which includes toys, various positions, or me fucking him rather than him fucking me.

That’s not to say that just anyone who doesn’t have missionary sex is having queer sex, although that is one possible definition. As I mentioned above I believe there has to be some sort of queer intent, though that is a very broad topic and definition. Also, I think queer sex must also occur between queer people, though that definition is also very broad and open to interpretation.

Now to throw kinky sex into the mix. Kinky sex can be defined in a similar way to queer sex in that it can be defined by what it isn’t, and what it isn’t is vanilla, or normal, but see my dialogue about normalcy? Is there really any such thing? What do we consider to be not kinky?

Perhaps I should define kinky in a way other than exclusion, though I’m not sure how to do that because it is also subtle and it depends entirely on perspective and personal definition. I posit that just as most people could be deemed queer due to having anything other than narrowly-defined non-queer sex that most people could be deemed kinky for having anything other than narrowly-defined non-kinky sex.

That, or we just need to get rid of these labels all together, but that brings me to another theory on labels: that we must define them then broaden them in order to be able to abolish them, so perhaps that’s what I’m working on doing right now!

And what about the quote in the image above? Is anything you do really only kinky the first time, because after you do it that desensitizes you to it, making you think less of the kink factor of it and more of the enjoyment of it? That makes sense in some ways, and it’s been my experience that people tend to measure others against their own experiences rather than the so-called “normal” experience expectation.

However, what constitutes kinky sex? For some it would be using toys and props such as dildos, vibrators, restraints, or blindfolds; for others it would be engaging in “extreme” activities such as S&m, D/s, watersports, or enemas; for others threesomes, foursomes, and moresomes are kinky. Just like queer sex, there is a wide range of what could be considered kinky sex, and it all depends on the person putting that label on it. I do believe that kinky sex has an intention behind it, just like queer sex does, but it is also just as difficult to pin down.

What I’m trying to say is that there are definitely differences between these three “types” of sexual interaction, and none of them are better or worse than others as long as you are interacting the way you enjoy and desire to interact. I’m not saying that straight sex is bad, though I do wonder how many people actually have it. I am saying that more people have queer sex than most people may think, but I’m also saying that labels and definitions such as queer and kinky are difficult to pin-down, and perhaps shouldn’t be pinned down.

A Guilty Pleasure: 50s and 60s (Sexist) Movies

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On November 11, 2008

In Discourse, Equality

Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face

I have a secret (or not so secret?) love of old 50s and 60s movies with Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe, Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, and so on. As much as I adore genderfucky practice there is something so lovely about watching Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire sing and dance in fabulous clothing (which happens to be what is on the television as I write this), or any of the various other very hetero very gender normative pairings that are mainstream movies from that era.

Why are some of my ‘comfort movies’ classics like Gentlemen Prefer Blondes? With winning exchanges like “I can be smart when I want to, but most men don’t like it, except Gus.” “No, that much of a fool he isn’t.”

Granted, there are a few gender bending movies like Some Like It Hot and strong female characters in other movies as well, though inevitably they always end up wrong somehow and the men end up right. In Some Like It Hot there are some wonderfully amusing and genderfucking moments, though they happen on the part of Daphne/Gerald who is willing to dress up as a woman from the beginning, unlike Joe/sephine who only agrees to it after they witness a mob mass-murder.

Though I didn’t used to when I was younger, I now recognize the inherent sexism within most of these films, and instead of being upset about it I shrug and think “that’s the way it was.” I think that is necessary in some ways, however, since there’s no use getting mad over something that happened 50 years ago, and if the same themes or lines were in movies today I would definitely be upset about it. However, my complacency about the sexism and stereotypes portrayed is a little disturbing to me all the same.

Is my recognizing the inherent sexism the most important part of the equation? I can’t help but love movies from that era, partially because they have been my comfort movies for over ten years. It’s always nice to watch a movie with a happy ending, and these usually have them. While as I mentioned above there are usually some strong characters in the movies they are often somehow wrong or proved wrong throughout the course of the movie or they are not seen as sexual or love objects, such as the magazine owner in Funny Face who is obsessed with her career and says that she has no room for love.

I think part of my love of these movies, aside from the happy endings, is the fabulous clothes, hair, and make-up all the female leads always have. Even when they are “broke” as in How to Marry a Millionare or Some Like It Hot they are still femmed up to the nines with elegant dresses, furs, sequens, gorgeous shoes, perfect hair, etc. The men, as well, are elegantly dressed: suits and ties, fedoras, sleek and gorgeous clothing. The femme in me revels in the wonderful hair and makeup.

I’ve always loved the style of these movies, the classicly glamorous look that the starlets represent, the pin-up look that never seems to go completely out of style. I love that the women in the films are actually women-sized, as opposed to the stick figures we mostly see today. Lately I have been wanting to cut my hair, get some rollers, and start wearing it like a redheaded Marilyn Monroe.

In the end, I think what is really important is that we recobnize the sexism in these films when we watch them now, since they were made in times that were trying to portray heterosexist and gender normative ideas as the norm (not to say we don’t still have that now). We all know that the 50s and 60s were trying to portray an image of perfection and normalcy that is basically unattainable, and wasn’t attained even then, although people strived for it. The movies of that era are equally unattainable, like fairy tales or romance novels (minus the smut), but they sure are fun to watch.

Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Review: PoMoSexuals- Challenging Assumptions about Gender and Sexuality

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On November 7, 2008

In Sex Toy Love

PoMoSexuals: Challenging Assumptions About Gender and Sexuality is an anthology of essays edited by Carol Queen and Lawrence Schimel that is essentially a smack in the face to traditional and even some non-traditional ideas of gender and sexuality. It refutes any idea of any sort of binary along either of those lines.

Through reading the essays the reader gets multiple examples of people who don’t fit into the neat little boxes that both queer and het society tries to push them into. Because there are so many, one right after the other, each building on the next and each becoming more strange, more queer, more PoMo than the last, there is no way to deny that these people are not just flukes.

For me, I found some soulmates in this book. I found people struggling with the same ideas I do and asking the same questions I’ve been asking for years: where do I fit in if I’m sort of this and sort of that and everything and nothing? How do I navigate these gender and sexuality galaxies if I can’t pin myself down and comprehend where everything in me is coming from?

The essays in some cases are roads of self-discovery, showing just a glimpse of what one goes through when one box is not an option, and what is possible when you embrace not fitting in. Other essays were dissecting specific ideas or impulses that the authors had which were somehow out of their comfort zone, such as a gay man wanting to fuck a woman, how males and females can interact outside of a heterosexual paradigm, how a female can be a woman stuck in a man’s body, and various other pomo genders and sexualities.

If you’ve ever not fit into the boxes the world gives us, which is just about everyone in my experience, I would say you need to read this book. Even if you don’t identify directly with those in the stories it will blow your mind and make you reorganize your thinking about the way that gender and sexuality work. It will help you recognize that you are not alone, there are others like you who can’t fit into the boxes.

Even if you know that already, because I certainly did know that there were others who feel like I do going into it, you will still get a sense of camaraderie of validation that while you are unique in your own gender and sexuality expression there may be others who are just as or more fucked up than you are. And I mean fucked up in a good way, of course. ;)

NaNoWriMo Glimpse – Anticipation

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On November 3, 2008

In Smut

I decided to participate in this year’s NaNoWriMo that is, National Novel Writing Month, which is November 1st-30th. I didn’t start right on the 1st, but this is part of what I had so far, not necessarily at the beginning, but it could be, we’ll see. I thought you all might like to read it, and I’d love any comments/critiques/criticism that you have, including telling me that it’s simply way too cliche (though it’s supposed to be a little cliche).

I need to read up on my noir fiction style, but I can always revise to add more noir-sounding phrases, but that’s the style I want to work within, partly Onyx’s idea, he’s been super into noir lately. Though, who knows, that aspect of it may end up being scrapped due to lack of ability. In any case, enjoy!

She walked into the room like she owned it, her deep red dress hugging her curves in all the right places, emphasizing her hips as she swayed toward me. She was the kind of dame you wouldn’t mind staying through the night, but she never would. I touched the cool glass of my drink to my lips, the ice clinking softly as the clear alcohol passed through my lips like water. She grinned once she saw me, sly as a cat having already caught the bird, and simply held out her hand for me to take.

She was the one who invited me here, to be part of a crowd and an atmosphere I didn’t usually partake in. I liked to stick to the shadows, preferring a fast tumble to a slow chase, but this girl was different. She had blown into my life like a brushfire, and seemed to like the chase. If she wanted a chase I’d be happy to oblige.

I tried to be cool as she led me to the dance floor, my half drunk glass abandoned on the counter I had been leaning on. Her arms were encased in black gloves up past her elbows, they looked elegant but were rubbery to the touch. A shiver ran up my spine as I touched the material. My arm slid around her waist as her head moved to rest on my shoulder, crimson lips grazing my cheek as her body molded against mine. Her hair fell down past her shoulder blades, and my hand ached to delve into the dark smooth mass of it, but I resisted for now. Each movement of her hips against me made me bite back moans that threatened to tumble from my lips, I couldn’t help but want her.

I could tell a lot of others in the room were watching us, and why wouldn’t they? Many who knew me were more surprised to see me in this setting and less so with the beautiful woman pressed against me. Those who knew her well, watched with a mixture of jealousy and smirking knowledge at what might later come to pass.

We did make a striking couple. Her in her red dress and gloves, elegant with a touch of fetish, her black heels tall, making her taller than me by a few inches. Me in a perfectly fitted three-piece suit I’d bought for this occasion: black with red pinstripes, black shirt, red tie, and a black fedora with a red band. I even had on red socks, though they were nearly impossible to see covered by my slacks and dress shoes. I knew she had a thing for suits, and for red, that much had been covered already. Though it had only been a few days since we met I could tell by the fire in her eyes that red was a color that suited her well.

Her arms were folded around my shoulders, my hands clutching her waist, knowing that if I slid them down just a few inches I would be able to feel the slope of her ass. I tried to keep my breathing steady, even as her arms wound tighter around me, her breasts crushing against my chest, inhaling the scent of her as she curled her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. I exhaled a heavy breath.

“Something wrong, darling?” She mused, her soft whisper against my ear sent another shiver. I growled low and she just chuckled as we danced to the soft jazz playing not far from us. She straightened in my grasp and shot me a knowing glance before taking my hand in hers and leading me out of the room.

We arrived in the bathroom before I realized where we were headed, she pushed me into the largest stall and pressed her hand against the bulge in my pants. I groaned. This was not the way I had imagined the evening would go. I was going to be smooth and charming, win her over through the night, invite her back to my place for a drink, and then make my move, instead she decided to lead me to the bathroom and unzip my pants.

I glanced down just quick enough to watch her red lips as they engulfed the length of my cock, making me throb with desire, the familiar clink of my belt buckle made me moan aloud, watching her as she watched me writhing in anticipation. I licked my lips and thrust my hips toward her, my pinstripe slacks falling around my red socks as she moved her hand under my cock to slowly insert a finger into my hot cunt, now I knew what the gloves were for, though I’d suspected all along.

The Leather Daddy and the Femme

By Tai Fenix Kulystin

On November 2, 2008

In Gender Galaxy

How do I start a review of a book which speaks to me in such personal and intimate ways, beyond being about sex? How do I begin to describe the ways this book has clicked with me? I guess by answering those questions.

The brilliance of the book is that it delves into theory while still having an element of smut in it, mixing the two together in a true Carol Queen-esque way, because in some ways it’s impossible to seperate the smut from the theory and the theory from the smut. The first book I read of Carol Queen’s was Real Live Nude Girl back nearly four years ago when I was still living in Oregon.

I fell in love with her then, realizing how similar we were, wanting to become like her, to explore my own sexuality and look at it through the lens of theory. She was my inspiration for nearly all that I do now, and all I’m working toward including San Francisco and The Institute for Advanced Study of Human Sexuality.

I found Leather Daddy and the Femme by Carol Queen to be not only wonderful hot get-your-genitals-stirring smut but also an interesting look at gender identities and identity politics. It starts off with the meeting of Miranda/Randy and Jack, then follows their relationship as it progresses, adding in a third partner, Demetrius, and playing with others as well. It is a wonderful queer genderfucking depiction of a gay leather daddy and his boy/femme and the creation of a family.

I found that the identities and relationships within The Leather Daddy and the Femme were some of the closest depictions to what I consider perfect. This wouldn’t be true for everyone, of course, not everyone would have such a personal reaction to the book, dreaming of being in an open and poly-committed relationship or having two different but equal genders that are easy to step into. I found myself identifying in some way with all of the characters and realizing that my dream situation is one very similar to what Jack, Miranda, and Demetrius have, with slight modifications of course.

In some ways the situation in the book is similar to my own, it emphasizes that queerness isn’t restricted to same sex relationships, that there are more ways for males and females to interact sexually and romantically than within a heterosexual model. Something I’ve thought was true for years, but that is difficult for me to describe.

The biggest thing that Leather Daddy and the Femme did for me, I think, was make me think about my own identity, my own desire for a chosen family (as opposed to born family), my desire for multiple lovers, for queer sex, for my own embracing of my multigendered self. It opened me up to looking at my own gender and sexual identity paths, how I got here and where I want to go from here. Oh, and it also made me wet.

I could probably go on for pages about exactly how it touched me, about what part of which characters I would like to inhabit, what I have thought of due to the book, how it has changed my perceptions and desires… but those things are all for posts previous and to come. Instead, I’d love if you have read it for you to give your reaction to the book in the comments.