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Femme, many claim it, few occupy it.

The many claiming this unique ID, are not unique themselves. But Femme IS unique, is unparalleled among women, so perhaps we can understand why sooooo many privileged women AND men would like to claim this remarkable jesus star as their own ID. AND that’s where the waters get murky.

Femme isn’t an identity, Femme isn’t some haphazard descriptor for woman or for feminine to be used willy-nilly by the ignorant or the privileged when the mood strikes their fancy! Femme isn’t femme, they both may resemble each other to the mirror, but as humans our eyes see all the mirror hides in its bare reflections. I could write a small book on what Femme isn’t, I choose instead to write about the beautiful finite that Femme is.

Femme in its simplest flat paper form is a feminine born female lesbian whose primary attractions are to masculine born female lesbians. But flat one dimensional paper definitions lack in depth and volume and certainly we cannot say that of Femme!

Femme is anything but flat or one dimensional, she is nature in all its forms. She didn’t choose this life, she became it, naturally, cell by cell, finger by finger, before her lungs ever took their first breath.

She is nature pure in its totality; Femme is a single blade of grass, Femme is every grass blade filling a wild field, Femme is a sweet fresh peach ready to be plucked and eaten, Femme is a fallen leaf lending herself to enrich the fertile soil. Femme is also the angry tornado destroying, rearranging and obliterating everything in her path; Femme is the hurricane threat we all board up our window and worry in fear from, Femme is the earths plates shifting in their stance, propelling a mass of energy ripping through the earths crust shaking us to our very core, Femme is the raging, blazing forest fire incandescent plant, animal and man with her red hot licks.

And Femme nature combined with Butch nature, isnt some awkward teenage “dance” in a smelly gymnasium, but a collision of atoms creating the Big Bang each and every time our bodies meet. And while her primary romantic attraction is to Butch, she is Femme with or without us. Femme is Femme alone!

She is the feminine outcast of all women. Her existence is a big FUCK YOU in face of patriarchy. Her femininity isn’t a whoring performance for the male gaze, her femininity has a natural legitimacy, with lipstick or without! She has broken every chain men have tried to shackle her with. Each time she has broken free she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, back to woman, be that woman herself or the arms of another! For this she remains an enigma to the patriarchy, for this, she is loved by Femme and Butch alike!

The dollar sign on the forehead of femininity once caused her to loathe her own femininity, she has spent years trying to play it down, cover it up, donning baseball caps, flannel shirts and baggy jeans. In time she grew, matured and emerged from the costumed self she momentarily imprisoned herself in. She learned whether visibly invisible or invisibly invisible she not only OWNS her femininity, she IS her femininity and that’s something a price tag cannot be attached to.

Femme is proudly feminine, despite her invisibility, despite having to out herself with frequent regularity, she occasionally catches the approving nod of another Femme or the bashful eye of lonely Butch and that makes her smile.

Femme, many claim it, few occupy it. I for one am grateful for those that do.

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