“Sex was never truly an avenue for me to explore, it was a way for women who had never seen anyone like me before to cum without the compromise of fucking a real man. Being the “best of both worlds” makes you wonder why you never seem to be talked about outside of the other masculine creatures they know. Over time, you learn just how alone you are and eventually, you tie your self-worth to just how well you fuck—it’s the only thing people seem to care about, right? You really want to tell people how it feels but it’s a lot more intimidating and a bigger risk to do that than nothing, so you do nothing.”
This resonates with me SO much. Very much like in Mae Martin’s Netflix Show when they say they are a failed version of both girl and boy.
Also this paragraph
“The butch existence is more often than not an ultimate contradiction that you have to navigate. I am a woman but also not one, I have male privilege but not when it counts, I’m predatory but cannot escape predation, I do not get objectified and yet cannot escape a constant cycle of de-personification. The only thing I can cling onto as universally mine and recognized by everyone who knows me is my butchness. Even then, the women I’m with will often suggest feminizing me or in some way, changing the way I move through the world. Even my friends will innocently suggest doing my makeup and while they are well-intentioned people it still offends me just a bit. There’s a sense of total humiliation that comes with invoking makeovers. A reminder of how ugly and mannish the person they see is. Butch sexuality is funny in that way because I’m meant to understand myself as ugly and impossible to find sexually viable as well as be as sexually available as the people around me want—a two-front war between the women who wish to erase my transgressions and their boyfriends who want to erase me from existence.”
Texts like this are so helpful, they explain myself to myself in a way I until recently never could.