Growing up, My mother was not really there for me,(or for my brothers.) Oh, she was there physically. She worked hard (at times with 2 jobs. As did my dad.) And I supposed she did her best. (I mean the best she was capable of doing.) But I can’t help but wish she had been there more. She had the tendency to retreat into books, and tune out the rest of the world. For a long time as frustrating as that was, I also used it to my advantage. (like a few times, being grounded and not allowed to talk on the phone or watch tv…I’d make up an excuse to call a friend to “remind her of something” then talk for hours. Or happen to be doing my homework in the living room.) But other then those few advantages, I often felt like I didn’t have a mom. She grudgingly told me how to deal with having a period, and showed me how to shave my legs and armpits, but didn’t tell me about sex. My Dad’s sisters gave me a more indepth talk about the above subjects, and alittle about sex, but I was ok with the minimal talk about it…because I knew I would have a good class in sex ed in my 8th grade year. (I really liked the 2 teachers that taught sex ed.) Looks wise, my mom is pretty. Maybe not the knock out she was when my parents started dating. (according to pictures.) but neither is my dad. She never really was inclined to prep much on a day to day basis. She died her hair (usually Red shades.) and used some facial creams, but thats about it.
Questions…while not forbidden, were usually discouraged. It helped alittle bit that she was pretty much like that with my brothers and my dad as well. But it did seem like she didn’t really want to connect with me. I don’t have to look far for possible reasons: My dad and I are extremely close now, and we had been since pretty much day 1. It was my father that stayed home during the day while my mom worked. He was my primary caregiver. Now, she tried,(and mostly succeeded.) not taking it out on me. But, I think she only managed that thru freezing me out. I remember as a 6 year old child, referring to my mom as “cold fish”.
The reason for this blog, is in figuring out how to Reclaim My Femmeness/Feminity, I feel that Moms, regardless of their orientation really should be the 1st to look at, regarding the basics. But as explained above…I get that with my mom.
So….now I am faced with a paradox. On 1 side, I badly want to be the classical high femme with never a hair out of place, always lady like, with a refined manner. On the other…the voices are saying “What the flying fuck, do you want to do THAT for?
I know that my description of high femme is exaggerated, and that there are plenty of normal looking women out there (who have probably felt like me) who have claimed not only the title of Femme, but of High femme. It’s one of those things that I have grasped logically, but in relation to myself…failing miserably. I went thru the same process with the word Queer. Though not much, if for no other reason then because no other word fit.
So…how do I go about this? I’ve thought about those old fashioned schools where women become ladies, but I don’t think they exist anymore, and besides, couldn’t afford them. I have also thought about an acting coach, If I can learn to pretend, If you pretend often enough, it can become reality.
Another reason for wanting this: alot of Butch types prefer the High Femme type. Especially the ‘Dapper’ type of Butch. Have to admit…the idea of Dapper butches makes my mouth water. Hmm old fashioned pin striped suit, silk hankerchief folded up in a upper pocket. expensive cuff links. matching fedora hat. Shoes impeccably shined………..lol. is it getting hot in here or is it just me? hehe.
So, if my Butch is wearing a killer outfit like that…well then I would be REQUIRED to wear an outfit that is just as much of an knockout. Make my butch be proud to have me on her/his/hys arm. And be able to pretend my way thru the evening. I could actually do it now, namely if I find a book on fancy silverware. And practice walking straight, (yeah, Im a sloucher. I know, bbbbbbbbbbbaaaaaaaadddd habit.) Not to mention practice wearing heels. Though I hate them, I would do that for My Butch.