Butchness -

Being a Butch is a complicated thing. More complicated than being a Master, I think. I started on my journey of being a Butch after I left my first wife where I defaulted into being a femme for a lot of reasons. When I finally found my Butch identity and shaved my head for that reason, it was a coming into my body, a coming home, and an  understanding that all of those years that I never felt quite right had a reason. That how I felt about shopping in the women's department made sense now.



I can remember when I was in my teens - I don’t quite remember what age- and I asked to be taken to the boys store to buy jeans. The answer by my two lesbian parents at the time was no. I never asked again.


When  I met my slave and we came together she embraced my Butch  in  a way that made me feel  empowered and loved to no  end. I, in turn, reveled in it.

 I built my Butch pride not just in my clothes, and my haircut, but in my ability to protect and provide. This was MY WOMAN, and I will put the food in her mouth, and the clothes on her back. I will provide, make sure that she has health care and a roof over her head. She is mine to protect and care for and nurture. 


MINE-- as I beat my chest and hoot and growl! Mine! Mine! Mine!


Because I did everything that this world said that I had no right to do. I did it anyway.

And I did it well.

And then came the last two years.

And I needed help.  Still do, need help that is.

To feed her and keep her warm and keep a roof over her head.

Clothing optional.

I struggle every time that I say yes. I feel like a disappointment to  her, like how can  I call myself much  of anything when the cupboards are so bare, and the health care she has is irrelevant because I can’t afford to  pay the co  pays. 


I know that we have just moved our lives upside down for a chance at a better life. That was me saying - we are doing this-  because I WILL take care of you, or give everything that I have trying.



I am in no way saying that I am not grateful to everyone for coming out of the wood work and giving us so much of their time, effort and resources. I am so deeply grateful that everyone has seen that I have Butch Pride, and has said – look Man, I know this isn’t easy- let’s do this anyway. 


And because I put my Butch pride away, she gets to eat, she gets to have a roof over her head, and she gets to be warm.

So what is more important? My identity or her?

Her always. Put me in  a dress and have my hair grow out. Her always. Put me in heels- low ones- so  I dont break my neck. Her always. Put me in girl  panties and a frilly bra. Her always.


Thank you to everyone that have provided for us and continue to provide for us during this time.


Thank you to  my intentional  family: 

Thank you to SM. You have kept us going in so many ways I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all of you. For your kindness, for your constant thoughtfulness and inquiry as to how we are doing. For your guidance that provides me with so much faith that this will change. It will get better. 


Thank you to J&L. For feeding us and the horses. The bale of hay that you so thoughtfully provided shocked me when I saw it because we needed it so desperately.   It meant that the horses ate all day. I could feel the contentment coming off of them as they ate and paused and ate and paused.

Thank you to KS for all that you do and have done to give her laughter and joy, and safety.

Thank you OB for providing us with so much when you have so little. I am touched and warmed by you and yours.