dyke next door

Butch chivalry is not defined by ability to provide. OFOS femme behaviors are not based in the idea that we are meek house wives. OFOS is a dance in how we treat each other in our relationship, and it is not based on relative job/not job status.

There are butches and studs who cannot work or are underemployed who consider themselves OFOS. They are no less OFOS because they cannot “provide.”

Femmes who earn more are no less OFOS/traditional than those who are housewives. Femmes who CANNOT work, including meaningfully keeping a home as a homemaker, are also no less a traditional/OFOS femme.

My last thought here (as a 34 year old, disabled, OFOS femme in a 15 year+ relationship, who is not an elder but is experienced in being in an OFOS butch femme relationship) is that there is nothing more dangerous as a young person in these spaces than being completely dependent on one person. You need to be able to leave and take care of yourself if your partner turns out to be toxic or abusive. You need to have your own money if something happens to your partner or they leave you. Being able bodied is not inherently a permanent status for you or your partner, and you need to know how to provide for yourself (via accessible employment or access to support services) in order to ensure your own safety and future. If your “traditional” relationship actually looks like a high control situation, then that’s not OFOS, it’s financial abuse. Please take care of yourself.

And this all took off entirely because it provided a clear in for anti-feminism to pollute trans spaces. Suddenly MRA viewpoints are feminist because "I'm defending women by defending men!" Suddenly it's more important for LGBT spaces to make room for cishet men than for trans women because that's how you prove you aren't "TERFy". Suddenly scores of young trans women are afraid to be feminists, afraid to advocate for ourselves as women, because we've been taught that feminism is inherently trans-exclusive. Because everyone who "supports" us insists that we're ultimately closer to men than to women.

"Yes, it's true: I was the type of young femme who managed the girls basketball team in high school, just to be able to take in the sight of all those butches parading their muscles up and down the court. I found Girl Scout camp to be femme heaven and reveled in being able to explore my athletic self and still maintain my femmeness. And, to my horror, I have to admit pushing Tina away from my breasts in the back seat of a Buick while attending Mount Saint Mary Seminary. And then there was feminism... Although I came out as a "gay" woman before reading The Feminine Mystique, the seventies brand of white feminism had me trimming my nails and cutting off my hair. Soon I was outfitted in farmer jeans and high tops. And still I was told by my "sisters" that I didn't "look like a dyke" (read: I didn't look butch). I began to lead two lives- one as an outrageous, skirted, lipsticked femme while I worked in and traveled with carnivals, and another as an imitation butch back home in the women's community. Eventually, I pulled the pieces of my being back together and proclaimed boldly, "I am a working-class lesbian femme." So I had maybe six years reveling in unleashing my seductive femme self when, as lives go, mine changed: slowly at first and then more dramatically. Recurring back pain and limited range of mobility were finally diagnosed. Soon after came decreased mobility. No more mountain climbing. No long mall walks in search of the perfect piece of sleaze. No more standing against kitchen walls being gloriously fucked by some handsome butch. I stopped using alcohol and drugs, became ill with what is now known as CFIDS (Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome), and began to use a three-wheeled power chair. The more disabled I became, the more I mourned the ways my sexual femme self had manifested through the nondisabled me: cruising at the local lezzie bar, picking up a dyke whose eyes refuse to stray from mine, dancing seductively, moving all of me for all of her. Cooking: love and suggestion neatly tucked into the folds of a broccoli quiche. Serving my date in varying, sleazy clothing, removing layers as the meal and our passion progressed. And making love... feeling only pleasure as my hips rose and fell under the weight of her. Accomplishment and pride smirked across my face as her wrists finally submitted to the pressure of strong persistent hands. There are the ways I knew to be femme, to be the essence of me.

It's been five years now since I began using my wheelchair. I am just awakening to a new reclamation of femme. Yes. I still grieve the way I was, am still often unsure how this femme with disabilities will act out her seduction scenes. I still marvel when women find passion amidst the chrome and rubber that is now a part of me.

There have been numerous dates, lovers, relationships, sexual partners, and fliterations along the way. Cindy, Jenny, Ellie, Emma, Diane, Dorothy, Gail, June, Clove, Lenny, Cherry, Diana, Sarah I, and Sarah II. You have all reminded me in your own subtle or overt, quit or wild ways that I am desirable, passionate, exciting, wanted.

Yes I am an incredibly sexual being. An outrageous, loud mouthed femme who's learning to dress, dance, cook, and seduce on wheels; finding new ways to be gloriously fucked by handsome butches and aggressive femmes. I hang out with more sexual outlaws now- you know, the motorcycle lesbians who see wheels and chrome between your legs as something exciting, the leather women whose vision of passion and sexuality doesn't exclude fat, disabled me.

Ableism tells us that lesbians with disability are asexual. (When was the last time you dated a dyke who uses a wheelchair?) Fat oppression insists that thin is in and round is repulsive. At times, these voices become very loud, and my femme, she hid quietly amidts the lists.

Now my femme is rising again. The time of doubt, fear, and retreat has passed. I have found my way out of the lies and oppression and have moved into a space of loving and honoring the new femme who has emerged. This lesbian femme with disabilities is wise, wild, wet, and wanting. Watch out.