crawdaddykink:

radhadess:

to trans “butch lesbians”

You and I are not the same. 

When you were born, regardless of where or when, you were praised.

When I was born, I was lucky to be born.

We both started school. Again, I was lucky. 

Your parents put you in jeans and t-shirts and kept your hair short. Mine put me in dresses and skirts and leggings, and ponytails I tore out by the day’s end. When I started stealing my brother’s clothes and refusing to have my hair pulled up, I was berated for it. Not just by my parents, but by the world. I was unlady-like, ugly, messy. If you ever tried to put a skirt on, this might be the only part you could really understand.

Your crushes on girls were encouraged. It was cute, according to the adults, according to the world. Everyone “awwwwed” if you kissed her cheek. You could go home and tell your parents about the girl you liked.

I didn’t know two girls were allowed to like each other. All I knew was that there was a girl that I would do anything for. I thought she was so beautiful, and wanted to be around her always. I never admitted to anyone that I had a crush on a girl. For the longest time, I didn’t even tell myself.

You might have had a girlfriend in middle or high school. I bet you held hands in the halls, and kissed outside the cafeteria. Your affection for her was not controversial.

In high school, my best friend stopped holding my hand because everyone thought we were lesbians, and she didn’t want to be seen that way. I loved her and I never said a word. In the locker room, I kept my gaze fixed on my locker, afraid of being predatory. The other girls were not very nice to me. They knew what I was, even before I did.

We’re adults now. I know what I am. People are still not very nice. I am glared at as I browse the men’s section, or laughed at, or cursed at. It’s worse when I’m with a woman. I had a girlfriend when I was 18 who was femme and just came out. When we went out together, she looked around, wide-eyed, and asked, “Why is everyone staring at us?” It was not new to me. I have always been stared at.

And you, you think you have a “lady brain”. You grew up with every privilege of your maleness and now you think you can turn to me and tell me we are sisters. You think that we are somehow the same. You are a male who enjoys to wear masculine clothing and is attracted to women. That is what is praised and expected of you. I have been hated for it all my life and here we are, and I think it’s important for you to know that I feel no solidarity with you. I am nothing like you. You are nothing like me.

If you have any respect for butches, lesbians, and women, you’ll stop calling yourself such. You do not belong here. That’s not cruel of me to say – all three of the above categories (butch, lesbian, woman) exclude you by definition.

Take some time to meditate on your male privilege and Get The Fuck Out

Thank you for writing this