change? We’ve fought tirelessly for equality and acceptance in this heteronormative culture, yet when diversity and change blossoms within our own community, we apply the same restrictions, discrimination, and ignorance we’ve experienced all our lives. I cannot imagine the challenges my transgender brothers, sisters, and non-binary family have had to face in such new and unchartered territories of self-discovery. What they endure physically, emotionally, and psychologically, in a heteronormative culture that is overwhelmingly intolerant of transgender people. Think back on the struggles faced just deciding to come out of the closet as lesbian, gay or bi. Think of the pain of not being accepted by friends, family and co-workers. Remember the isolation and loneliness of not having or being able to find community. Given our journey and history of oppression, it strikes me that we should be the ones embracing and defending everyone who is a part of the LGBTQ+ community – not blaming, pointing fingers, and causing derision. I love and embrace who I am as a cis gender, butch lesbian. But I struggle with this hype over where all the butches have gone? Nowhere. Butch lesbians are still here. Moreover, even if the identity of butch isn’t as central or popular as it used to be, it takes absolutely nothing away from my butch identity if my community around me decides to identify differently. Embracing the enormous progress we as a community have made over the years in expanding our awareness, and ability to embrace gender fluidity, seems much more important than concerning ourselves with where any particular identity has gone. In asking the question: “Where are all the butches?” we are clinging to a past that was important for us at that time, but also brutally restrictive in many ways. Instead of assuming we’ve ‘lost’ something in the identity of ‘butch’, maybe it’s ultimately something we gained. People now have more choice to identify any way they want, and in ways that feel authentic to them, not in what the outside world wants them to be. There really is room for everyone. Maybe we should be asking ourselves different questions altogether, like: “Are we supporting diversity within our own queer community? And if not, how can we?” Or maybe the bigger question is:
“If there truly are fewer self-identifying cis gender butch lesbians around, why does that frighten me?”
EILE Magazine 25