Why would someone write a blog entry about being fifty, fluffy and female you ask? Well it wouldn’t necessarily be interesting to anyone but I like the idea especially when you add being lesbian, butch with a wider than wanted streak of femme. All of these impact me and my life in some ways to the good and in others not so good.

On the good side I have learned many lessons that help me get through life with as little fuss, muss and bother. I know that “Don’t Stress the Small Stuff” is more than just a book title it is a very simple way of life that helps reduce your blood pressure, allows you to enjoy stopping and smelling the roses while enjoying each day as it is presents to you. Granted there are times when you can’t help but let the small stuff smack you upside the head but after a while you can get it under control quickly letting you get on with your life. I suppose you could call it learning how to experience that one perfect moment in time where you wish you could live forever. When you don’t fret about the day before and only plan for the day ahead. Where all is at it should be. I’m not saying that everyone will learn this by the time they are 50 but some of us can and the rest of us will eventually, hopefully.

On the bad side ageism is something we have to contend with. The common thought among many is that the older you get the less desirable you become. There are names for someone who has reached the venerable age of 50 and beyond:aged; old; elderly, geriatric, senile; matronly, anile; in years; ripe, mellow, run to seed, declining, waning, past one’s prime; gray, gray-headed; hoar, hoary; venerable, time-worn, antiquated, passe, effete, decrepit, superannuated; advanced in life, advanced in years; stricken in years; wrinkled, long in the tooth, marked with the crow’s foot; having one foot in the grave; doting (imbecile); like the last of pea time., older, elder, oldest, eldest; senior; firstborn; ichiban, ichiro [Japanese]., turned of, years old; of a certain age, no spring chicken, old as Methuselah; ancestral; patriarchal (ancient); gerontic.  Did anyone see sexy, desirable, worth fighting for, needed capable of loving. I know I didn’t.

It doesn’t seem to matter these days that what is inside of a person is exactly the same at 20 as 50 when it comes to wanting to love, desire and cherish someone. My knees may ache more at 50 than 20. I may get tired a little easier than I use to but I still enjoy physical activities, stimulating conversation, learning, enjoying the company of someone I love, as well as others. Loving someone physically may be a little less enthusiastic and might not last all night long but it still contains all the emotion, intensity and emotion whether you are 50 or 30.

Physical appearance can also be a drawback when it comes to establishing relationships. Perfection of appearance to some is required  by some in a mate, boy/girlfriend, wife, husband, etc., in others not so much. Which means you may eventually find someone to overlook the extra pounds that you packed in the knapsack around your middle, ass, and other places you didn’t know you could pack unwanted weight. Guess what some of the labels are for people who are a little larger than what good health and the marketing industry have taught us is acceptable. Here they are: beefy, big, blimp, bovine, brawny, broad, bulging,bulkybull, burly, butterball, chunky, corpulent, distended, dumpy, elephantine, fleshy,gargantuangrossheavy, heavyset, hefty, husky, inflated, jelly-belly, lard, large, meaty,obese, oversize, paunchy, plump, plumpish,ponderous, porcine, portly, potbellied, pudgy, roly-poly, rotund, solidstoutswollen, thickset, weighty, whalelike

Again do any of you see, desirable, worth learning who they are, marriageable, relationship material, loving, caring sexy anywhere in this list? Can’t say I see any of them either. Combine that with being 50 and holy shit you might as well join a convent. You’d probably find more action there than you would in a downtown gay/lesbian bar-sorry if someone finds this comment offensive.

So being fifty, fluffy and female can and does have it’s drawbacks, more than some of us would like. I personally hate them because learning how to spend the rest of my life alone except for my daughter and her family is something I find unacceptable especially when it means forfeiting a long held dream of loving someone deeply enough that I want to spend my life with them.

We in the LGBT community do ourselves a disservice as well according to some of us. Yes we label ourselves just like society labels those of us who aren’t good enough to grace the cover of Elle, Maxim and any other glossy magazine or commercial floating around in society. I mean we have butch, femme, tops, bottoms, sapphic, dyke, twink, queer, queen, lesbo, poof, fruit, bull dyke, stone, etc. Here’s what Wikipedia has to say:

  • Bulldyke or Bull dyke or Bulldiker or Bulldiger (also, earlier, Bulldagger) – more likely to present as butch
  • Baby dyke – a young, immature or recently out lesbian. Sometimes used in a pejorative sense within the LGBT community to refer to a lesbian who attempts to appear butch unsuccessfully.[10]
  • Femme dyke – a lesbian who presents in an (often stylized) traditionally feminine way.
  • Frisco dyke – a queer woman who hails from, lives in, or espouses aesthetics / ideologies congruent with those popular among dykes in the San Francisco Bay Area.
  • Lipstick dyke  – variation on the pop-culture term “lipstick lesbian“. Also known as a “doily dyke.”
  • Trans dyke  – Transsexual or Transgender woman who romantically and/or sexually prefers females.
  • Bear dyke  – a lesbian of especially large build and/or physical prowess.
  • Bi-Dyke or Byke  – an identity used in a variety of ways, including by some bisexual women who feel more attracted to women than to men or by lesbian or dyke-identified women who acknowledge some sexual or emotional affection for men.[11] Also used by some women who identify as being primarily attracted to genderqueer individuals.
And I’m sure that there are one hell of a lot more slang words that label each of us. Combine all of this with being fifty, fluffy and a woman who’s appearance leans more towards her Father’s looks than her Mom’s and you have all the makings of a B grade movie gone wrong. When another woman who identifies as “butch” looks at me they see another butch and usually don’t take the time to see what is underneath. When viewed by a “femme” they expect, as is usual, that I will be the one that makes the first move. Which is contrary to how this 50 yr old butch/femme is wired. I usually have no idea when someone is interested in me, I have no idea how to make the “first move” and well I really don’t know how to function as either butch or femme. I just want someone to share interests with, laugh, cry and cuddle with and just love.
I want to be who I am without a label and I want people to see me without attaching a label to me. Loving someone shouldn’t be on the condition that they fit in a label, pigeon-hole, category, etc. Loving someone even if they are fluffy, fifty and a very lovable lesbian should depend on what you learn about them, if you connect with them and how they fit into your life. Love should be a work in progress, easy but hard, free and full of trust.
Rather a naive point of view I’m sure but its mine.
happy loving everyone
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