Dear Butch, Love Femme.

Something that I posted back in the day when I first came out and was exploring the dynamics of the lesbian world and my love of butch women. If you want more information about Sapphic City and my previous exploits click on the link or head to About Me.


Dear Butch…

I see you. When I rolled over this morning and saw you there sleeping peacefully, your swagger gone, your femininity enhanced while you are in your sleeping form. I found myself smiling because I am so privileged to see behind the butch bravado that you show the world, to see the woman that society thinks is missing.

We met.

When I saw you from across the room in your bow tie and your suit that night, all swagger and bravado, I knew I wanted to know you more, that there was more to you than meets the eye, so maybe I knew more about you then you initially thought. You saw me in my dress and my heels, I know you did, I did it all for you. I did it so that you would notice me. You sauntered over to me, cocky, ready to pounce on this ‘innocent’ femme, but I know your game. I am a High Femme and I know how to play, but you knew that already. One touch of your face and you’re blushing. I thought you were adorable, but don’t worry, I would never tell anyone. Your reputation is safe with me.

Holding my head high, I let you guide me around the room, hand on the small of my back as you show me off , knowing that you are mine and I am so proud to be yours. My dapper butch, the flutter in my heart when you open the door for me and pull my seat out, I just can’t explain how special you make me feel. I have always been a princess, but with you I feel like a queen.

I am a high femme, my title means a lot to me. The way I identify is who I am. You are a butch, I’m sure you understand. You understand that I am not weak and I am not submissive or helpless. I think that heterosexual society often perceives me as a damsel in distress and you as a man. Maybe we should show them what happens behind closed doors my love? Maybe we should show them your subtle blush when I tell you that you’re beautiful or how you trust me enough to let me take over in the bedroom. We could let them see you wearing my apron and cooking me dinner. Better yet, let them see you holding a baby, my big tough butch dissolved to goo’s and gaa’s and lots of clucking. No my love, perhaps we should keep our relationship a mystery, a myster that most just don’t understand.

As a High Femme, I am not a gender stereotype and I am not going against my sex or my feminist ideals by being girly, by letting you open jars for me or you holding the door. I can be soft and helpless sometimes, but so can you.  I date women who wear suits, not because they look like men, but because they are women. I wish that society didn’t judge our relationship by the way we look. I am high femme and I could not be more comfortable. Yes I like to be protected and I love the chivalry and butch mannerisms that you show me, but I can fight for myself and I will protect you to the end. It is not you that society needs to be weary of, it is me.

Kisten Stewart


I see you.

I see the way people look at you on the street and I know you know that I am on guard always to protect you, to protect us. I wonder how those people who stare, the ones who look at you when you walk into the woman’s bathroom, how would they feel if we were to stare at them and the person who’s hand they are holding. What about those people who give us a thumbs up on the street or people that yell their approval? Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a straight couple, quieter I guess. One day my love, people won’t make a fuss, we will go unnoticed. For that day, I cannot wait.

What will happen when one day you carry our child? Can society comprehend a pregnant butch? I cannot wait to see you with that mother to be glow on your face, I think it is the only way you could possibly be more beautiful. You are, after all, a woman. You have a lady heart just underneath the surface of your rough, rugged, butch exterior. Your heart is feminine and tender with a great capacity to love like only a woman can.

I see you beautiful girl, I see your masculinity, your femininity,  I see the way you look at me like I am your world. I see you cry, I see your heartache, I see you all.

And I love all I see.

Love Femme.



selfie. Red Lip.

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About Lacey-Jade Christie

Being in your twenties isn't all it's cracked up to be. Take a look into the life of Lacey-Jade, a twenty-something woman in Melbourne who is struggling to balance a career, study, love, plan a wedding, save for a house deposit and navigate the road to the suburbs and the children that will follow. Join her on her road of self discovery as she battles mental illness, workplace and family pressure while trying to decide if and when children should come into the picture and how.
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