Two Sided Coins

The phrase "both sides of the coin" seems to come up a lot with me. It came up in Updates/Desires, in my first Lesbian/Bisexual post years ago, in my very first post here.

I am two sides to the story, I am two points of view - so much so, that sometimes it feels like I'm two people. I'm butch and femme, gentle and fierce, hardworking and lazy, kind and mean, ugly and beautiful, educated and gullible, elegant and clumsy. I am pro-troops and anti-war, pro-charity and yet I don't give, pro-women's rights yet still uncomfortable with high abortion rates, a lover of art with no talent or background, a musician too scared to play, a writer - published - who now can't undertake anything more than a blog.

I am an amalgamation of people. So many paradoxical ideas - all living and breathing and trying to coexist inside one body. Over the course of this blog, some of you who have been with me since the beginning have seen me search for who I am and what my box is. I don't fit in a box.

But maybe I went searching for my box the wrong way. I went searching for everything I wanted to be, so confused, so naive and drowning in a world of terms and relationships that I didn't understand. Not once did I ask myself what I wanted. Not once did I ask myself what I needed. So caught up in figuring out what was wrong with me, I just assumed that anyone I fell in love with would be perfect, would be right.

And to some extent, every girl is perfect. Every girl fits some piece of me, some part that longs to blossom into life and is nurtured along by her and I can be happy with her. But not every girl can understand that I see through a fractured crystal of a lens, and all the fragments blink back eighteen different images rather than the solitary one an average person sees.

Maybe if I'd asked myself what I need in a relationship, the compassion, the giving heart, the fiery spirit, the conviction, and maybe the ability to see or understand how I see the world, I would have found myself sooner. Would have realized that instead of trying to fit into the butch/femme dynamic, I live both inside and above it - like an umbrella, understanding what lies beneath but ultimately too much and too widely spread to say I belong.

Both sides of a coin.

Here's your Christmas Present: The erotic tales of Caci and Natalie beginning and conclusion on Rainbow Sprinkles ;) You're Welcome! 


This just seems to fit all the themes going on my head this week, and when I wrote this post it ended up getting stuck in my head.

Hot Mess/Comfortable

It's weird, going back so far in time and maturity to write my first:girl series. It's hard to get back into that head space where I was so young, awkward, naive, unsure, uneducated. It's hard not to cringe at the moments when I didn't know what it meant to be "butch" or what the Stonewall Riots were. I've had to delve into old journals to remember what I was thinking during that time, even though some exchanges are burned so clearly into my memory. Proof reading my first:girl series was like watching a video tape of someone else drowning. I want to swim out and help me, but I know I can't. I'm not there anymore. I had to learn to sink or swim on my own.

Even looking back on my first posts here, not nearly as far back as my love story, I was all over the place. I was a big, hot, lesbian mess, trying to fit myself into any box I could find. I'm so glad I found these beautiful safe spaces which helped me grow. Places like Sugarbutch, CCL, Dorothy Surrenders, and Alphafemme, with real authors, honest people who shared their experiences and their lives with me so that I might grow and learn. I can't thank them enough, especially Sinclair over at Sugarbutch, for the impact they've had on making me feel safe and like I wasn't alone on this journey.

But I have become someone extraordinarily different from who I was back then. I am confident, self-assured. I know what I need from a relationship and how to get it. I know how to give love, how to accept it, and how to walk away when I'm not going to get it. I am a sane, competent individual who understands different types of relationships, differing needs and wants and paradigms. I am someone who can stand my ground and hold my own beliefs without needing to blind myself to the opinions of those around me. I am no longer spectrum banging, but comfortable in the person I've settled into. That's not to say I don't shake things up occasionally, but everything is essentially me. I can also still be a hot mess when I'm running late for work and haven't done laundry or gone to the market and forget to comb my hair when I get out of the shower and look like Jane Porter (this is a chance for you to show me that you read).

I hope that you, wherever you are on your journey, in the closet or out for years, can come upon this feeling. That someday, you can stop chasing down and looking for who you really are, because you are comfortable in yourself. All that running is exhausting, and knowing the basics of who you are and what you want is really enjoyable.

Derailed/Spectrum

It's been a while since I've really written about sexuality and gender theory. It seems that somewhere during the holidays I became very self involved and only wrote my personal issues, which was not how this blog was intended to be. Yes, it is about me, but it is about me exploring my sexuality and becoming more acquainted with the LGBTQ community and issues.

I'll admit I have been overwhelmed by the term "spectrum banging" (Yes, Mr. Sexsmith, I blame this piece of enlightenment on you). A few years ago, I had big boobs (which I emphasized all the time), long (blonde) hair, never left the house without mascara, equally loved jeans, blouses, and dresses. I liked to play dress up, and I loved to use my body to entice classmates into having dirty thoughts. I liked feeling sexy, liked feeling used (Read:CoDa).

Then, after I found out first:girl was not in fact falling madly in love with me as I was with her, I explored different ways of being. I started spectrum banging, which I'm just starting to figure out was a huge part of my underlying identity struggle. Since the me I was wasn't cutting it for first:girl, I did everything differently. I cut off all my hair, dyed it back to its natural brown, stopped wearing makeup, wore jeans and wifebeaters, never wore jewelry, and made myself as masculine as I could (without binding). That's when I started reading SugarButch, and found a piece of myself in his writing. That is when butch started feeling sexy. I found my love for femmes, and the deep traits of chivalry and respect. After reading for months, I then started to feel sexy and butch without needing the physical appearance, but it still just didn't fit. I think it was because I wasn't doing it for me. I was doing whatever I thought would get first:girl back. I tried this for so long. A year, maybe more? That didn't work either. She still didn't want me, and I was tired of trying so hard.

That's when my old habits started creeping back in. I still had short hair, but now I spent time on it, curled it, straightened it, wore a beret, whatever. I started wearing mascara every day, bought new skinny jeans and two pairs of converse to go with my shirts and tank tops.


During this blog, which has not been running for very long, you have seen me swing from one side of the spectrum to the other within days. I went from wondering if I was butch or femme, to wondering if maybe I should be ftm, to being full on femme for a week.

My hair has grown out to my shoulders now, I wear makeup when I know I'm leaving the house, and occasionally I'll wear a bra, or something that highlights my breasts. I'm not femme, but am definitely more on the feminine side of the spectrum. Do I still have butch days? Occasionally. Maybe more soft butch, or just butch in manner rather than appearance.

I can't say that I'm done spectrum banging, but I can say that I'm finally more comfortable in the middle, at least for a little while. For now I can be a homogeneous mix of the two ends. And wouldn't you know it, I feel a lot like I did before first:girl came along. I still can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing yet. Feeling like I did back then makes me uneasy. It makes me feel (and I'm embarrassed to admit it) less gay. Maybe when I started to change myself for first:girl, I also started to change myself to feel more gay, because (of course) being gay should feel different. That should be a load of crock, but it's ingrained in me to feel that way: that straight!me and gay!me should feel differently.

I'm still waiting for that unease to go away.