You know, I rediscovered that I’m lesbian yesterday, and it already makes so much more sense.
I came out as gay when I was nine. I knew I liked girls, and I knew I was a girl. Then I came out as nonbinary three years later. In that three years, I’d joined Tumblr and my best friend had come out as agender. A part of me was surfacing that I now know was butch dyke. At the time, I thought it was something male. I’ve flicked between a million and one different labels, some more outlandish than others, for my complicated gender identity. I’ve also experienced crippling comphet that made me switch my labels to bisexual- I have a tag for people I have crushes on, and if I go back more than two months, it’s just boring pictures of men that I convinced myself I was attracted to at the time. There is one man who I’m still attracted to, and that’s it. It’s just a celebrity crush.
I still identify as a nonbinary woman, because I think my butchness does sway my gender, but I am a lesbian. My attraction to women is exclusive and homosexual. I’m still exploring pronouns. I changed my name when I came out as nonbinary, and even if I decide to use she/her pronouns, I’m not changing it back because I want a gender-neutral name, and at the end of the day I like it. I chose it. It’s mine.
Being a lesbian is more that being a girl who likes girls. It impacts gender identity, and society chooses to ignore the ugly, confusing parts of it.
I am proud to be a lesbian. I am proud to be a (albeit soft) butch. And I am proud to be an out-and-out dyke.
“My cat’s favorite game is tug of war. He wants to be pulled slowly around the apartment for 15-30 min at a time and cries if you drop your end of the toy.”