Not my father's son: On Masculinity
- cryptidkidsideshow
- Mar 4, 2025
- 6 min read
When I began to explore masculinity as a young queer, I had one goal: don't be like my dad.
My father was an abusive borderline narcissist, who would fly into fits of unpredictable rage, manipulate us with his mercurial emotions, play the victim when he perceived any slight against him, and cheated on my mother when she had what he saw as the audacity to not satisfy his every whim. Simply put, he was toxic masculinity personified. I was terrified of being like him, and I fell into scrutinizing my every word and deed for years.
But as time passed with him out of my life, I put this fear to rest and begin contemplating, how do I want to be masculine?
Kelsey Snoot, a Black transmasc writer, and Lisa Fouweather write that we need a new masculinity that is not built upon the subjugation, degradation, and rejection of femininity. As Lisa calls it, an "antithesis to toxic masculinity." Kelsey and Lisa describe a masculinity characterized by emotional intelligence, vulnerability, openness to physical affection with other men, and desire for connection. This new, softer masculinity teaches men to respect women rather than coerce or dominate them and to connect with them instead of being willfully ignorant of their desires.
I'd love to see men embrace this form of masculinity. But when I try to identify with it, something crucial gets lost. I feel like I need a masculinity that takes into account a far more complicated relationship with femininity than just unlearning revilement against it. I might not be a woman and generally disidentify with femininity, but I am usually perceived as a woman and share with femmes the struggles that come with female socialization. There are probably transmen who relate to this new, softer masculinity differently than I, and their experiences are valid and very valuable. But the complex relationship I feel with femininity means that I can't fully identify with it. I need a masculinity that is not affiliated with maleness.
In my confusion, I do what I always do: I read. I read "Female Masculinity," by Jack Halberstam, an American author and academic. Jack is nonspecific about his gender identity, though he was assigned female at birth. In reading the preface of his book, this passage jumped out at me:
"The butch is neither cis-gender nor simply transgender, the butch is a bodily catachresis. The Greek word, catachresis, means the rhetorical practice of misnaming something for which there would otherwise be no words. Butch is always a misnomer - not male, not female, masculine but not male, female but not feminine."
The term "butch" originated in the lesbian community and was popular in the 1940s and 1950s in American lesbian bars, particularly those frequented by working class lesbians. It can have different meanings in different queer cultures (Latine and Black communities in particular have their own words to describe queer masculinities), but generally butches are characterized by a more masculine gender expression.
Halberstam's book describes butch not as a female version of male masculinity, but as a specific gender with its own presentation and history. He claims that becoming butch is not the same thing as becoming a man, because butch describes a masculinity that functions independently of men. Butch looks differently for everyone, but this description by Things Butch-Femme really resonates with me:
"Butch is fierce, strong and rough, yet gentle. Butch is no-nonsense, yet silly sometimes. Butch is a generally tough exterior, yet a sort of teddy bear on the inside. Butch is that feeling that you need to fix everything…even when you know you can’t. Butch is not crying in public…at least trying not to! Butch is steeling emotions on the surface, and dealing with them when you are alone. Butch is getting up and doing what needs to be done even when you are sore, hurting and really don’t want to do it, but you do it anyway – because you are Butch. Butch is never letting them see you sweat."
I relate to this kind of masculinity, which is about using your strength to be caring and protective, being in touch with your emotions but preferring to manage them on your own, and feeling an urge to fix things even when you're hurting. Butch also encompasses the impact on me of being socialized as female, but not identifying with femininity.
But butch doesn't perfectly describe me, either. Most theorists consider butches to necessarily be lesbians. I love my femme girlfriend and I love our feminine/masculine dynamic. But I'm normally attracted to people who have a masculine gender expression (as long as it's a queer masculinity). I can't find anything in queer theory exploring bisexual butches, and I need a masculinity that encompasses my desire for other masculine people. I realize that not every queer believes that bisexuals can't be butch, but there's a part of me who wants to respect that the word came from the lesbian community and that lesbianism is such a crucial part of its history. It makes sense to me that some lesbians want to have a definition of masculinity that is specific to their experiences, and I'm happy to give it to them. I believe no one should police persons of any sexuality for identifying with the term, but the part of me that wants to respect its history and unique value for lesbians prevents me, personally, from fully identifying with it.
This is where I find the term "transmasc" to be very helpful. The word is much newer than butch. The earliest I can find it in literature is from an essay written by Sleighthompson in their blog entitled, "Whats in a Word?: Crafting Transmasculine," that was originally published in 2006. Their essay reflects the dialogues and work of several members of New York City's transmasc community as part of the TransMasculine Community Network. They define transmasculine as "any person who was assigned female at birth but feels that is an incomplete or incorrect description of their gender." "Masculine" is used to describe "socially perceived masculine behavior, identity, or expression" that are not versions of male masculinity but are essentially trans or gender-variant, since they are expressed by a person who was assigned female at birth.
I gravitate towards transmasc because it also describes a masculinity that is not based on maleness, but leaves space for my fluid sexuality. It's easier for me to conceptualize being a transmasc who is attracted to other masc people, as my girlfriend says in all seriousness: "You're a fag, Lorca." Transmasc masculinity can describe the same behaviors and styles that appeal to me about being butch, while also allowing space for a complicated relationship with femininity and being socialized as female. But unlike butch, it is not historically tied to sapphic love.
I want to be clear here that when I talk about what characterizes being a butch or being a transmasc, I'm talking about how dimensions of both, based upon what I've read, resonate with me. In my experience, no two queers approach their identity the same exact way. Other butches or transmasc individuals might describe themselves quite differently than I and relate to those terms and identities in very different ways. They matter and the queer community benefits considerably from their experiences.
I, personally, feel like I exist in a perpetual blur between being butch and being transmasc. And that's ok. In her influential 1993 novel, Stone Butch Blues, Leslie Feinberg explores how being butch and being transmasc is not mutually exclusive and the identities can in fact be interwoven.
Can I say anything definitive about my masculinity? I'd say that it is definitely queer and essentially liminal. I ultimately relate to Halberstam's description of butch as a gender that defies categorization at its core: "a placeholder for the unassimilable, for that which remains indefinable or unspeakable within the many identifications that we make and that we claim."
And I'm fine with that. I believe that being queer is, at its core, about creating a gender presentation and sexuality that is not constrained by ideas of contradiction and consistency, but by fluidity, subversion, individuality, creativity, and feeling. I believe that being queer involves, as self-identified trans man and butch lesbian Anabelle Weissinger describes, "picking up and putting on whatever bits and pieces of labels felt good... like sticker bombing my water bottle or sewing patches on my jacket - a completely customizable experience, drawn only from my own tastes and desires."
"What's in a Word?: Crafting Transmasculine," by Sleighthompson, published on Sleightompson.wordpress.com on November 24, 2010.
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