I Totally Want to Date a Stud. A Butch Lesbian Woman

I WANT TO DATE A STUD – A BUTCH LESBIAN WOMAN.
This short article is written from the heart. It aims to address all the stereotypes that are among the queer community especially when it comes to ‘butch on butch’ relationships. We discriminate against our own; we have phobias that we still need to confront amongst ourselves. As much as we do not want to admit this but our minds are still as heterosexual as ever, we do not want to establish our own ways of thinking and we do not want to accept that behind our exterior and whether one chose to be femme or butch or futch or whatever other labels that are there, we are all woman who love woman and we seem to never want to look pass the labels.
I want to date a stud and I do not care if this does not sink well with anyone. Call her butch if you may because of her masculinity and her dress code. I promise this is not ‘gay’ this is just love at its purest form. Do not frown upon me, I know the queer family have also studied me even before I came out to them and they concluded according to their stereotyped indoctrinated labelling system that I am a stud too. They call me butch the first thing when they see me before I even open my mouth to speak and state my case, thus they greet me with that “sho mfethu, fede, tip” and extend a fist to greet rather than a hug. They expect me to date ladies with high heels, weaves, handbags and make up, thee femmes. They expect me to drink beer and sit with my legs parted, my elbows on my knees crouching forward. They expect me to deepen my voice so I will not be considered girly but rewind; I am a girl in every way that matters.
I want to date a stud. Behind our clothes meticulously handpicked from the boys section at Mr Price lie two fragile women. Behind our sneakers and All Stars and Vans lie feet that also flow with oestrogen and progesterone and this is a biological factor that can never be faked unless one chooses to undergo a surgery as they believe that they are trans. Behind our tightly buttoned shirts and maybe bandaged bosoms lie two delicate life giving hills (and how I love breasts of a woman, so tender and fragile and sweet). Behind our chosen exterior that we put out to the world because of how we want them to perceive us lie an interior that can never lie or pretend and souls that just yearn for another woman’s body.
I want to date a stud and marry her. Hold her hand in public and declare that she is all the woman I need. So what if we both rock chinos and shirts and our chiskops. We are more than what the world expects us to be. We are beyond the sarcastic labelling and the heterosexual norms set according to dress codes. We (the lesbians) get offended when the world asks us questions like: “which one of you is the man.” Yet unconsciously we do that amongst ourselves, we are tuned into thinking that there should be a femme and a butch in a homosexual relationship. The one must be submissive and the latter dominant.
I know a lot of people will frown upon me and my butch partner and ask us close minded questions like: ‘who dominates who?” and they will giggle showing their shallow intellect and prisoned brains. They will whisper behind our backs showing slavery that they will never
be free from. They will call us names proving that that’s the only thing they will ever master in their lives. Us, we would have mastered more.
I want to date a very beautiful stud woman and fall in love with her every single day of our lives as long as we both shall live. I want to look at her with eyes full of wonder and adoration and be turned on by the fact that such a beautiful woman can rock very boyish clothes and still look dazzling and have a smile that sparkles and shines.
I want to date a stud and make love to her every day. Unbutton her shirt to reveal her beautiful sports bra. Undo he belt and unbutton her chinos to reveal her boxer shorts (so what she doesn’t wear a red laced bum short, her boxer shorts are just a huge turn on too.) I’ll take her into my arms and explore her tender nakedness, push her back into the mountain of pillows and teddy bears on my bed. Her thighs will part and admit me and she will link her ankles across my hips taking me prisoner. We will merge into a tangle of arms, legs, torsos, quivering, twisting, moaning and groaning. My Gosh, what a beautiful sweet woman this is beyond all they have labelled her.
I want to date a stud. Butch to butch they say. I couldn’t care less; my soul mate may just pass me by while I’m still busy paying attention to stupid labels. I want to date a stud and that is the beginning and end of everything. I know there is still a long way to go where educating the queer community about stereotypes and labels is concerned but we can start somewhere, and I’ll start by finding me that stud lifetime partner of mine and write more articles about us.

By Silondiwe Mathebula