The Butch Factor, or: To Nie Ja

Jun 16, 2010 22:50

For the second time in a month's time, I was told by people who I met in person: "I thought you'd ... you know, be butcher ( Read more... )

butch, gay, online, chat, masculinity

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Comments 17

chukspace June 17 2010, 08:00:23 UTC
I think you present as conventionally masculine. They may be thrown off by your voice, which is in a high range. (As you well know from telemarketer calls...) You don't have a "queeny" voice, just a high-pitched one.

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mlr June 17 2010, 09:59:19 UTC
The "me" I met was charming and rather wonderful. You seemed completely at home in your own skin - which as others have said above, is an attractive thing. I look forward to getting to know you better.

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paterson_si June 17 2010, 10:17:22 UTC
If you're comfortable in your own skin, fuck 'em

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maxauburn June 17 2010, 11:59:14 UTC
I agree with the others here. Just be you, and be content with who you are.

I had trouble with accepting that I am not terribly masculine for many years, and now, am accepting who I am, finally. Used to hate hearing my voice on recordings but now I actually like it.

I get called "Faggot" a lot in my crummy neighborhood, and it finally has filtered down into my soul that the ones who call me that are really insecure little boy-men at heart, and they have issues about their own manhood.

Just be yourself.

We live in a world that SAYS it admires individuality, but actually requires everyone to be alike.

To be a true exception in this life is painful, and yet glorious at the same time.

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semimarina June 17 2010, 13:58:14 UTC
Roger, I can't help but think of the song, "I Am What I Am", from the Broadway musical, "La Cage aux Folles", sung by George Hearn--a role that won him a Tony as Best Leading Actor in a Musical in 1983.

Albin, the character singing the song, celebrates what he loves about life as he lives it, in all the glories of performing as the drag diva, Zaza-- but like the song and that character, you're fabulous, unique, and sometimes over-the-top-- and most importantly, proud to be who and what you are.

And we wouldn't have it any other way, no matter how you match or transcend expectations of gender. The only thing I regret about knowing you, Roger, over the last few years is that we haven't been able to spend time together in person.

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