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The Hook Up: Addressing the “lesbians hate men” stereotype

Allow me to preface this by saying, while not gay, I am very gay friendly and lived in West Hollywood for a time. I have a lot of gay friends; so many they called me a “fruit fly” because I was always “buzzing around fruits.” The point is I obviously have no problem with gay people and have campaigned for marriage equality, openly gay military participation, etc.

I’ve noticed that in roughly 80-90 percent of lesbian couples I’ve seen there is typically one who is pretty (lipstick) and one who is butch (diesel). My question is for the latter. Clearly they don’t like men, but why do they want to cut their hair, walk, talk, and act like men? I personally dislike teabaggers, but I don’t go around dressing up like the thing I dislike so I find that strange.

Extra credit question: Wouldn’t a woman who is attracted to another woman whose appearance and mannerisms are like those of a man be slightly less lesbian than a woman who is attracted to a woman that does not? Please don’t take my comments as being rude. I mean them in the nicest possible way and I’m asking out of genuine curiosity.

Anna says: Questions like these are precisely why everyone should be forced to take at least one Gender Studies 101 course in their lives. But, fine, let me dig up my Judith Butler hat.

I’m glad you support the gheys, but I have a hard time believing that 1) you couldn’t just ask them and 2) that despite having lots of gay friends you have these questions at all. But, since you asked and I’m feeling charitable, let’s have a Teachable Moment.

Butch/femme is a common lesbian dynamic. Is it the most common? Who knows? No one’s given us a Pew report on the subject. It probably depends on where you live. A little historical perspective:

During the 1940s-50s, when being a lesbian was deeply stigmatized, the butch/femme dynamic was de rigeur. Butch-butch and femme-femme couples were considered highly taboo, and women who did not fall into either category were deemed “kiki” and often called “confused.” Then the ’60s and ’70s came and butch/femme couples were considered oppressive representations of heteronormativity and patriarchy. Androgyny became the THING to strive for, which really is kinda butch anyway, so that’s confusing. The ’80s and ’90s brought more gender fluidity and more butch/femme couplings, but it also brought AIDS and more backlashes against LGBT people. The aughts brought the first mainstream lesbian TV show, The L Word, (hooray!) but had like four butch characters ever (sad trombone). Today, in San Francisco, everyone looks a little like a lesbian (a little andro, a little butch, a little femme), and for that I am grateful (and still confused). The end.

Here’s where your question is flawed, though. Butch women don’t dislike men. It’s a stereotype that’s rooted in misogyny and is largely baseless, much like the one that claims all feminists hate men, or that all feminists are angry lesbians who don’t shave and bathe in silken tofu or whatever. Also a woman who has “male” traits (fauxhawk, bow ties, whatever) isn’t the same thing as wanting to be a man (unless they are trans, but that’s another topic); it’s a different beast altogether, or as Carol Queen once put it, “something our gender-impoverished language doesn’t offer us words to describe.”

Just as there’s no one “right” way to look like a woman, there’s also no “right” way to look like a lesbian, and if someone wants to adopt a more masculine mode of self-expression then why should that be denied to him/her/them/ze? Why should that automatically raise questions about whether said person is “imitating” a man or whether they dislike men? If I wear overalls, no one accuses me of hating farmers.

You could, theoretically, ask such a question about any gender expression and it would be just as ridiculous. Why do goths hate wearing colors other than black? Why do American Apparel models hate smiling? Why does Lindsay Lohan hate pants? The point is that any gender non-conforming person (men too) who doesn’t abide by the very limited cultural stereotypes dictated by society is bound to take shit for it. Butch women in flannel and combat boots (or whatever) fuck with our conceptions of what a woman should look like, and their refusal to adhere to those conceptions are considered a threat to men, and are therefore policed and harassed, sometimes violently.

To wit, don’t be so clothes-minded, my friend.

As to that last question: Seriously? It’s not like we sit around, playing “Who’s the gayest?” Do you do that with your straight friends? If so, who wins?

I met this wonderful and amazing girl from another country. Note: I live somewhere in Scandinavia and she lives in France. We messaged each other every day and it went on like that for a while, but then I started to get depressed and it got more and more awful, because at some point I didn’t want to go out of my home. So I kinda said to her that I need time for myself and we would see each other later in life.

Half a year passed, maybe more and then I knew I am probably in love with her and I miss her soooo much. At that time she was with another woman, who treated her really bad. I helped her emotionally via email and she broke up with her. So this summer we finally decided that it was time for us to meet. I flew to see her on her birthday. It was the happiest I’ve ever been and it was just a wonderful time spent together. We decided we were gonna give it a shot.

What happened was that when I came home, I had a lot of work to do and I couldn’t give her the attention she needed. I couldn’t message her so often and I really wasn’t at the computer or the phone so often. Every day she got mad at me for not messaging and she couldn’t understand that I needed to do my work. And when I got a day off, talked to her all day, it felt like it was going nowhere. And that is how she responded to me. After two weeks or so she messaged me this long email saying she can’t go on like this, that I don’t give her enough attention. So we fought over a couple of messages and she said that it’s over.

Two months have passed and I feel empty. I feel like I need her in my life, no matter what. I tried to message her about giving us a second chance,so far she hasn’t responded. I feel so strongly about this that I want to leave school and go live with her in another country, with a different language that I don’t know, but somehow work with it just to be with her. I know I’ve hurt her, but I need to know what to do. I’m hopeless.-The Geek

Anna says: Oh honey, I want to wrap you up in an internet hug and shake you firmly but gently. And tell you no to everything. No, you aren’t hopeless. No, you shouldn’t leave school and fly to another country for a girl who dumped you and is ignoring you. No, you don’t need her in your life. I know how it is to feel that way, but you’re still grieving and not thinking clearly. You are not empty. You are full of goodness and light and love.

Please read some of these past columns about heartache, but know also that this girl is not for you. If you having your own life and work caused her to feel “neglected” and break up with you, that’s a serious red flag. And while you may be suffering now, I assure you it will pass because all things pass, even those big gut-punchy emotions like emptiness and loss and apathy and anger. Take that restless energy you have from your past relationship and reinvest in what matters most to you-whatever that may be.

I was talking with my girlfriend recently about those relationships that end before they get a chance to start, and how those are sometimes the hardest to get over. Your long-distance love affair reminds me of this. They’re difficult because they hinge on possibility, an infinite potential, and none of the ordinary muck of long-term relationships-the fights, the quiet, the ebb and flow, the splitting the cable bill, etc. Relationships that never get much of a start are a kind of escape, they seem always to offer more. But we need to wade in the muck eventually; it’s what sustains us. So hitch up your boots, my friend, and join us. The muck is mucky but it won’t kill you, I promise.

p.s. Don’t move to France.

Hailing from the rough-and-tumble deserts of southern Arizona, where one doesn’t have to bother with such trivialities as “coats” or “daylight savings time,” Anna Pulley is a freelance writer living in San Francisco. Find her at annapulley.com and on Twitter @annapulley. Send her your The Hook Up questions at [email protected].

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