Becoming my best butch

I was shocked by the response to my last few posts on butch-centric matters.

I thought the topic would only interest folks just like Middle-age butch.  (Imagine a room filled with flannel-clad women sporting spiky, short haircuts and Dr. Marten’s 8 eye boots.)

Turns out that just about everyone has a little butch inside them.

Rosie the RiveterThere’s the woman who rolls up her T-shirt sleeves when she needs to dig down deep inside for hidden strength or that extra push.  Think Rosie the Riveter and her “We Can Do It!” motto.

There’s the classic femme who started out as a butch but ultimately ditched her cherry chapstick for red lipstick and her hair gel for a giant spray can of Big Sexy Hair.

The tomboy, the jock, the race car driver, the single mother and the Supreme Court justice.  The single gal who can fix a plumbing leak and the gardener who likes to play in the dirt.

There’s a million shades of butch.  And some don’t even involve flannel shirts or tattoos.  Imagine that.

It’s who you are and where you’re going.  It’s a state of mind.  An attitude.  It’s confidence and capability topped off with just the right amount of swagger.

My butch might not look like your butch or your partner’s butch or any other butch that you know.

One of my favorite comments from my Butch and more butch post came from kp over at My Addicted Obsession.  “Keep becoming your best butch,” kp said.

And that’s my current quest.  To become my best butch.

As part of my journey, I’ve decided that I need to start taking better care of myself.  While beer and bacon might seem exceedingly butch, eating them (separate or together) might not be conducive to my transformation into becoming the best butch that I can be.

Oh, Thin Mint, you chocolaty, minty temptress. You had me at “Th”

With that said, I thought I’d release a few goals into the blogosphere to set an intention and help with accountability.  I’m sure no one will show up at my door if I eat an entire box of Girl Scout cookies (are those boxes small, or is it just me?), but it can’t hurt to write them down.

* Forgo all energy drinks.  I don’t know how it happened, but I recently became addicted to Red Bull.  Something about the taste (liquid sweet tarts) and the slim blue, red and silver can (shiny).  Seems like something Wonder Woman would drink.

* Limit myself to one diet soda per day.  Studies show that diet soda makes your body crave sweet things like Girl Scout cookies and Halle Berry.

* Stop eating after 7 p.m.

* Make better food choices, like substituting salads for cupcakes and carrots for bacon.

It’s all part of my madcap plan.  The becoming-my-best-butch plan.

I’ll keep you all posted.

* * *

Be your best butch.  Remember, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step of your Dr. Marten’s.

5 responses to “Becoming my best butch

  1. I love Girl Guide cookies. They are like my Kryptonite, and so I try to avoid any little girl standing outside the grocery store selling stuff.

    As for you being your best butch, I’m cheering for you. 🙂 I’ve missed the last few posts. I will have to go back now and see what has been going on.

  2. I’ve just stopped by because as a Queer Femme I’m all a dribble over anything butch ;-). *Happily married but still perusing the menu freely* x

  3. Pingback: Going Primal | The Flannel Files

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