Hey kiddo.
I haven’t written about my experience suit shopping, nor my experience wearing the suit to a wedding. It was all awesome, and I’d like to, but I’m still working on my upcoming move and so don’t have time to really dive into things. And did I ever say MOVE. MOVE MOVE MOVE. I am moving. I am so excited.
I wanted to write down two things that happened to me recently. I was at the gym, getting the details of my move ironed out (I’m switching locations). I was talking to one of the “Membership Specialists” there, and I realized that I didn’t actually have to do anything to move – this whole time I’ve had access to both gyms. Ahh! Stupid me. Well, I was embarrassed. The guy punched me on the arm and said, “No problem, buddy.” I love interacting with dudes who gender me correctly. I feel like my “not butch” time was spent in constant tension, worrying that men would try to pursue me. Now, not all guys do it right all the time, but the ones who call me “dude” and say “buddy” and “pal” are definitely my favorite.
Something that that interaction made me think about is something I’ve written on before. I was out with some lesbians, one of whom I had just met. During our dinner conversation, I mentioned that my girlfriend had identified as straight previously to meeting me. She immediately start patting me on the back, and gesturing to our friends down the table, and saying, “Did everyone hear that? Somebody get this girl a beer!” I was grinning like an idiot because it made me laugh to be treated so much like a little brother. But it also delighted me. I’m going to set aside the way that this was a subtle objectification of women used to validate my masculinity because for me, what made me happy was the way that she played to my pride in having such a wonderful beautiful girlfriend, and rewarded that pride with beer, something I see as masculine. In terms of my masculinity, I am young and inexperienced. I love being treated like a little brother. I need “older brother” role models in my life. I’m striking out on a lot of this journey without much real life masculine companionship.
My last post, combined with this post at Transfaggotry, made me consider whether or not I’d ever feel comfortable transitioning. I can’t speak for the future, but right now, I like little brother/drag prince/young butch status. I suspect if I ever do transition, it will be partly to resolve gender dysphoria, but mostly to resolve age dysphoria. I’m just not there right now – and who knows, maybe I will not feel butch in 10 years. Or maybe I will feel more butch, and more grounded in my female body and won’t see it as being at odds with my masculinity. Or maybe I will feel more masculine and will want my body to match. Or maybe I’ll be femme. Who knows.
The second thing was that I was cleaning out my closet for my move, and pulled out the dresses and skirts I haven’t worn in a year. I sometimes get obsessive about throwing things out, but I’ve said “No” to throwing out two things during my move. The first was this set of dresses and skirts. I don’t usually tie up my identity and self in things – they’re just things, dammit! – but throwing away (and by throwing away I mean, donating) barely used dresses and skirts seemed like I was throwing away my femininity. It felt scary. I like having those options in the back of my closet, even if I never exercise them. The other thing I didn’t throw away, if you’re curious, are old, old sheets that used to belong to my grandma, one of my favorite all time people, who passed away in 2002. They’re just things, but – I can’t bring myself too, even though secretly I think she would think I was silly. You hold on to funny things when you miss someone.
How To Be Butch 
My dear boy, whatever did I say in my post to make you wonder if you’d ever feel comfortable transitioning? Was it the business about age dysphoria?
Yes, it was! But I was writing this post at work and I abruptly decided to quit. Not a good protocol to set for myself in my blog writing. It was the business about age dysphoria. I’d thought about whether being older would eventually catalyze a decision to transition before, but I preferred to link to somebody who had written about it because he had been there.
Ah yes, age dysphoria can get quite frustrating as one gets older. Of course, a lot depends on how one ages. Some female-bodied people who are able to maintain an androgynous or even manly body shape through their twenties find that, as they get into their thirties or fourties, their bodies begin to age, sag, lose muscle, and accumulate fat in specifically female ways. I have a friend who just started T because of this, even though he doesn’t want to be consistently read as male. And some find that it becomes more difficult to pass since, though they may look like 13-16 yr. old boys, they no longer dress, behave or inhabit the social spaces of 13-16 yr. old boys, so people conclude that they are female. And for some, it’s simply a matter of wanting their body to reflect the age, experience, and maturity they feel they have gained. Of course, for some handsome older butches, aging simply means a more rugged look, rougher skin, sharper angles of bone and more visible twists of muscle. I personally have a predilection for butch Daddies in their late fourties ;)
Currently, in a suit, I look about 15 years old. It’s annoying, but not totally offensive to be the only one carded at weddings – I’m only 22. I hope to age in a particular way and I do my best to work out, eat right, etc. in order to keep my muscle mass, but I know at a certain point genetics and time will take over. I’ve worried about it in the past and actually used to make a point of popping zits in the hopes that it would scar my face and give me a rugged look when I was older. Unfortunately, I deeply regret that now. The scarring isn’t bad – barely noticeable, but in hindsight I wish that I hadn’t. I know a guy in his late 30s who never intended to start physical transition and instead employed visual tricks to create a receding hairline, but I doubt such a think will work on my babyface. I’m interested to see what I look like when I’m older, and love seeing pictures of older butches. I always hope dearly that I will look like them. If I don’t, well, we’ll see.
And in a not altogether unrelated comment, when I am in my late 40s, I hope to be the kind of butch Daddy you would be attracted to. :-)
*checks ID* hmmm late 40s you say? ;-)
Popping zits – well you certainly were thinking ahead!
I’ve started to fake a gently receding male hairline. My next goal: to find a barber who can do it for me.
*Fans himself* so much butch flirtation online… what’s a poor fag to do?