having your butch call you her femme when she knows you're struggling with your gender and it reminds you whose opinions really matter to you. it's so easy to get swept up in every little perception that crosses your mind, but do any of them truly know you? or do they only see what they want to in you? it's impossible to know until your loved ones do the opposite, until you learn how it truly feels to be seen by someone. having your butch call you her femme not because you're super feminine or always looking pretty and dressed up, but because your nature has been assembled from the building blocks of femme love and solidarity, the passionate struggle of feminism and womanhood and transgender joy, of the archetype of the empress and the gentle, rounded masculinity of someone who sees themself as both. so often we treat masculinity as if its parameters are the exclusivity of femininity, and we define manhood on the antithesis of what we decide it means to be a "woman". we choke healthy masculinity, loving masculinity, and multigendered masculinity before it ever has the chances to prosper. having your butch call you her femme not because you're feminine gendered but because being genderqueer emboldens you to embrace all aspects of yourself, and she loves you enough to nurture the one that is often forgotten. you may be bold and brave, always mending your fences, proving your resilience and loving others in spite of your hurts.. but the caring femme also needs their own appreciation and support. having someones who remind you that it's safe to lay down your protections and let them love you in your vulnerability as well as your fierceness, because these are all the pieces that make you YOU.