ramblings and reflexions on…

Damp and cloudy,

this morning.

I got home late last night,

early this morning:-)

I went for dinner,

at my friend the anarchist’s,

I was very glad to see him,

I always am,

but,

since I have closed the bookstore,

and,

been away,

it’s messed with my routine,

which is a good thing,

but,

some parts of my daily routine,

I miss,

a lot.

One of those things,

is my friends,

stopping in,

on their way from work,

in some cases,

it was once a week,

or so,

in some cases,

as in Francoys’s case,

it was practically every day,

it will take some time,

to adjust to not seeing him,

as often,

and,

a little effort and scheduling,

we’ll manage,

I’m sure

đŸ™‚

I think I might have given,

you all the impression,

that I didn’t like,

Butch Is A Noun,

by S.Bear Bergman.

I do,

very much,

I have found myself,

reading it,

and,

finding it very well written,

insightful,

even illuminating,

at times.

It is filled with tenderness,

for her father,

an example,

of how to be,

a mensch.

Her telling of her,

mentoring of young butches,

as she had been mentored before,

of passing it on,

so to speak,

is touching,

and rings very true.

I don’t necessarily recognize,

myself,

in hir brand of butch,

but,

the authenticity and lack of judgemental behaviour,

I like,

I appreciate.

One essay,

in particular,

brought forth,

reflexion,

on my part,

it’s entitled,

breasts.

It’s about,

how,

a butch,

feels,

about breasts,

the pleasure they bring us,

and,

the difficult feelings,

we often have,

with,

and,

about,

them.

our own breasts, not those of the women we love, those are wonderful and delightful:-)

How our breasts identify us,

as sort of ousiders,

in the gender binary.

I had honestly never thought,

about this,

consciously,

but,

it brought me to certain,

realisations,

about my own breasts.

I don’t have large breasts,

quite small,

in fact,

I am by no means,

flat chested,

but,

not overly endowed.

I never gave it much thought.

In the last year or so,

as my body,

has undergone changes,

weight loss,

gravity,

etc,

I find that I have lost weight,

everywhere,

but,

it shows most,

in my face,

my legs,

and,

yes,

my breasts,

the gut although smaller, is still in my estimation, massive, and seems to point even more to the smallnest of my breasts.

Now,

a lot of butches,

would be thrilled,

they would,

no longer,

need to bind,

or,

they could,

go braless.

I don’t bind, nor do I go braless, just not my thing, I see these things as very personal choices.

I have mixed emotions,

I worry,

that it will make me less,

attractive,

less woman,

and,

then I feel silly,

about it,

and,

think,

they are only breasts,

but,

they are mine,

they are seats of pleasure etc.

I read about Angelina’s decision,

to have both removed in a proactive,

act,

and, I wonder,

what I would do?

I like to think,

I would take,

a reasoned,

informed,

logical,

decision,

the thing is,

it’s about so much more,

than logic and reason,

it’s about feelings,

emotions,

attractiveness,

desirability,

one’s sense of,

womanhood,

even if our place on the spectrum,

isn’t conventionally,

feminine.

Complex stuff,

food for thought.

Bear’s book,

has brought me to some,

realisations,

and,

has brought up,

many questions,

to which I don’t have a lot of answers.

A book of essays that makes,

you think,

laugh and reflect,

makes you see things,

from another angle,

in my ‘book’,

is a success,

glad I read it,

I think many should.

Later girls,

BB

 

Published by

Bookish Butch

I am a bookish butch in my very early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream

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