#lesbianity

To begin with, the terms “stone” and “high” refer to sexual matters: specifically, what each person's boundaries and limits are when it comes to sex. A stone butch is a butch who doesn't want their partner to touch their genitals during sex. A high femme, on the other hand, is a femme who doesn't want to touch their partner's genitals — these are the basics of the terms. But that's not where the concepts end.

When we talk about stone butches, we’re not just talking about what’s been said: it’s a much richer identity, and we can’t oversimplify it. The history of stone butches and their culture is also about a dynamic of domination, about performing hypermasculinity as a butch. It’s about body positivity, about being anti-rape, about understanding others and understanding oneself, and about comprehending and experiencing the world through one’s stone sexuality. There are many stories of how stone butches, before coming to terms with being stone, struggled with their own identity and their own bodies. Being stone, just like being high, is about autonomy, is about talk.

Highs also have their own history and significance, particularly within a stonebutch4highfemme dynamic, though they are not limited to that. As previously mentioned regarding stones, highs also have a history tied to their dichotomy: submission and an incredible femme hyperfemininity performsnvr. Highs are often seen as “selfish” or “lazy,” as if they didn’t want to contribute to their partner’s pleasure — which isn’t true. Highs femmes show us how diverse and rich lesbian sex can be, dynamic and different for each person, while still maintaining the comfort and boundaries of those involved. Highs offer a form of resistance against prejudices: it’s a two-way street when it comes to protection. High femmes protect their stone butches, just as stone butches protect them. In this way, both can live their lives on their own terms, with their partners, expressing themselves freely, and having their needs heard and respected.

I've spent so many months, years, trying so hard to fit into these categories that I saw so many people talk about as if it were the definitive truth, and this shallow and simplistic vision seems to be gaining a lot of attention and traction here in Brazil. Isn't it ironic to free yourself from cisnormativity and heteronormativity and all these binary boxes to find yourself again trying to fit into other boxes and norms that don't actually describe your experience correctly? Because your experience with gender is so chaotic and confusing (as expected of a nonbinary identity, and even more so if you're neurodivergent too) that there's no simple way to describe it. Then when you find out what describes this, people say you can't identify yourself that way because two or more of your identities are "incompatible". I see people treating non-binarity as if it were an exact science, as if it were math, as if it were something simple and logical, as it is precisely the escape from what has been established in our society as the only two possible options, generating countless identities within a gray area outside this black and white vision, so of course it's something complex, abstract and subjective.

EDIT: One of my reasons for thinking this way was that I ignored that the transgender experience and the cisgender experience aren't and will never be equivalent. It's obvious that a cis man can't be a lesbian, but the same doesn't go for transmasc people, and I thought that admitting that was the same as being transphobic, denying the masculinity of transmascs, denying their male identity. I already had a debate on Twitter because people didn't want to admit that trans men and transmasc people in general can suffer misogyny and male chauvinism (as society can still see and treat us as women) because they also saw it as the same as saying transmasc people are women. The identity of trans people is a very complex experience that involves a series of factors that cis people will never experience. We cannot equate the trans experience with the cis experience.

I thought identifying as a butch lesbian was enough to describe my masculinity, but I realized that I felt like it didn't encompass everything I felt, I still felt like something was missing. Preventing and depriving myself of identifying with more explicit masculine identities was actually making me feel bad and dysphoric. So yeah, I've been avoiding identifying with male-aligned identities because I thought that would mean having to stop identifying as a lesbian, and I didn't want that, and I don't really feel like calling myself straight makes any sense.

First, what is a stone butch? A stone butch is a butch who only gives sexual touch but does not receive it (on their genitals or, for others, on their erogenous zones). It is a sexual and cultural identity within the lesbian community. For some stones, their sexuality is expressed through dominance, being hypermasculine in a butch way, and, above all, respecting themselves, their partner, and each other’s boundaries. Now, the meaning of each stripe, from top to bottom, 7 stripes and a brief explanation.

Masculinity and stone identity

It is meant to represent butch masculinity and the stone identity as a whole.

Sexual boundaries

It is meant to represent the respect for boundaries that is fostered in the Stone culture.

Unique relationship with gender and sex

This is to show that every stone butch has a unique and different relationship with sex and gender.

Trans and gnc stone butch

It is intended to represent the history of gender non-conformity and transgender/transsexuality within stone butch communities.

Sexuality

It’s meant to show how butches proudly express their stone sexuality to the world.

Respect for high femmes

It’s about the respect, protection, and love that stone butches have created and nurtured with their high femme partners.

Community

Finally, the community. This last stripe on the flag reminds us that, above all, we are a community, one that exists only because others before us fought and resisted, and spoke out so that we could be here today. It serves as a reminder that, even though we are all unique and different, we are still part of the same community, and we must protect and respect one another.

I’ve noticed that lately, many people have been treating butches as inherently oppressive within the lesbian, especifically with the butchfemme, community. Many people attach a negative connotation to butches because of the prejudices that some perpetuate — and don’t get me wrong, I agree that we should speak up when our peers and partners act in ways that don’t represent us as a community, but that doesn’t mean being butchphobic. I realize that this anti-butch backlash stems from generalizations and bad faith, as well as hatred toward butches: treating butches like men has become all too common — and, of course, completely wrong. It's butchphobia.