I’m totally pissed at all the main characters on The L Word right now. Well, with the possible exception of Shane, who was slightly more understanding, but not much. Why, you ask? Because they’re all total dumbasses, and they made Moira cry. Thanks to spoilers on the Showtime website I know that Moira is soon to be Max (sidenote: if I have a daughter I’d consider naming her Maxine so she could be Max for short. I also plan to have an orange cat named Max. …Maybe not if the daughter thing works out–it would probably suck to think you’re named after a cat.) and that makes me a little sad, although it will be nice to see how they handle the trans issue.
But seriously. What is with these women? And why do the writers think it’s okay to have this happening? I’m really upset. First of all, I can’t stand it when women think they’re so enlightened or something because they don’t adhere to butch/femme labels. Okay, sure, maybe in a perfect world no one would feel the need to label herself as anything. And yes, there is a world beyond butch/femme in lesbian living. But those of us who do identify within that binary shouldn’t have to feel ignorant or ashamed of that.
I’m butch. I didn’t always define myself this way, but as I grow up it’s becoming a bigger part of my adult identity. I used to think of myself as a tomboy, then briefly a 13-year-old boy stuck in a woman’s body, (okay, sometimes I still think that) and now I’m a big tall shy butch. I’m very proud of my suit and my silk ties. I’m about a step away from switching to boxers or boxer briefs. I exclusively wear men’s pants. I open doors. I buy flowers. I like it when a girl loops her arm through mine.
And that’s okay, dammit.