A Letter to Studs

Recently, I have heard and overheard a lot of…negatively said things about different sorts of people within the LGBTQ community from their own community. I don’t like that at all so I would like to address my feelings about that.
I am a self identified femme, as I’ve stated before. We are each, individuals. We are each special in who we are, inside the depths of our souls. I am aware of this and I think that is beautiful. I, in no way, mean to offend anyone by my blog. These things are how I indentify, how I think and feel, and my preferences. No, this does not mean that all of those like me feel the way that I do.
That being said, I prefer to date masculine of center women, dominant women. I have dated other girls that have also identified this way and have friends who identify the way that I do. It’s just not my thing. I like studs, butches, bois, AGs, and whoever I didn’t cover there. Again, I don’t care how you got there if you’re there, you’re there. You know you better than anyone. I won’t question that, ever. This piece is to you.
I love these women. There is something that draws me to the energy they put off, it’s magnetic. It’s the way they look in the mirror to check their hair before going out, that head tilt so that they see all sides of it. I love that wink that so many of them do, the often cocky laugh or grin.
I love your ties of all kinds, your combat boots, your stylish kicks. I like your dominant and protective presence, right at my side. I love the way you bring femininity to chivalry and prove it never died. I love the way you smell and have yet to determine why it is you all smell so good. I love the way you sit, laid back, feet up, as though draped like my favorite jacket.
I admire your absolute strength while still being gentle, your energy. I dig the way you can so easily slough off society’s expectations of what a girl should be and rock that out. From flannel to crisp white shirts to baggy jeans and a shirts, you’re pretty freakin’ awesome. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.
I do not think you look like a man. There is something still feminine about you, that separates you and defines you from them, and anyone who says differently isn’t looking the right way. There’s something there, in the lines of your face and in your smile, in your hands, that screams you’re still a woman.
I grew up with two masculine of center women (Kitty’s parents), who were very much in love. Something about them was never attractive to me, perhaps their age or motherly figure like disposition toward me distracted me from how they identified. I can still remember the first masculine of center woman I ever met, still at a young age, who could- in no way- be considered a part of my family. I remember freezing in the kitchen, all of my words gone and turning to my very best friend and hissing, “is this a thing? Who is that? You! Explain now!”
It occurs to me that you must get so much more negative attention than I. Not once have I been confused for being in the “wrong” restroom without actually *being* in the “wrong” restroom. I admire that too, your ability to go through that sort of thing, your sexuality usually pouring out of you in that oh-look-there’s-a-lesbian way. Ignore the haters, honey, because you’re awesome.
I know I’m not alone. I am very close with a large circle of femme’s- both lazy and lipstick- who feel the same way I do and you should know that we’re out here and we adore you- everything about you. You do you because, really, you’re rocking that shit out.
On another note, I feel the same way toward studs (let’s assume there’s an etc. there) who love other studs. All of this applies to you and I find nothing wrong with it. Okay, I might have pouted once or twice a little bit because there goes another one…but that doesn’t make you any less you or any less awesome.

You rock, honey.

Me ❤
PS: If you’re physically or mentally abusive (no matter who you are or how you identify) for whatever reason, this does not apply to you. You suck.


2 thoughts on “A Letter to Studs

  1. Love the PS. There are so many labels being thrown around nowadays I no longer know where the hell I fall on the lesbian spectrum. I am who I am. I can not remember a time when someone made me feel less than human. . . because I don’t let them. If I get a look when I’m in the ‘women’s’ washroom, I nod or give a small smile. No matter how masculine my clothes or hair, I still do not get the really mean words or looks, then again, I might, I just don’t pay attention. But I don’t think I get them because I’m small, 5’0″ and I look quite young. On more than one occasion the person I’m with has been asked if i’m their son. And trust me, it’s hard to be butch/boi/stud whatever you want to call it when you have those two characteristics. That’s just me. Cheers.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think a lot of us have no idea where we really stand. I identify as femme because tomboy femme just doesn’t fit and lipstick sure as hell doesn’t. Straight girls view me as a tomboy. Hell if I know, right? Just being you is what’s important. As far as the hateful comments and the like, I think it’s a lot better in most parts of the country. At least, that’s how I understand it. But, in places like where I live, it’s still backwards and not homo-friendly. In fact, it’s not really anything but straight white male friendly. What’s really super odd about it is that the nearest city is *so* LGBTQ friendly. 20 freakin minutes down the road. How does that even work? lol

      Liked by 1 person

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