The way a nice binary heterosexist world works is that it is both heterosexual and homosocial. We bond with people like us, and pair bond with one person like them. We don’t really understand “the other” so we hang out with people like us, getting support for being a good us, and that good us attracts and balances the other we mate with.
It’s a nice plan, I suppose. It’s kind of hard to explain to lesbians, sometimes, the idea that if you like her to be more femme, you have to be more butch. If you wear a jacket, t-shirt and jeans, well, she really has to dress casual, and you end up soft/andro/lez, but if you wear a suit with nice shoes, she can wear a dress with nice shoes. And good underwear, good underwear for both of you.
But the challenge is that being a good trans-femme-shaman-crone really would be easier if I could hang out with some other trans-femme-shaman-crones, or at least some femme-shamans or trans-crones or some mix or blend that, and I say this with deep and intense meaning, that gets the bloody joke.
I remember DeLane Matthews, who played the wife on “Dave’s World” saying that every day of the first season when she was getting ready for work, she thought “Doesn’t this woman have a girlfriend who can tell her this hair color does not look good on her?”
Oh, someone who gets it. And someone who can be our mirror, our ground, our sounding board and our inspiration. It’s such a lovely idea.
Homosocial, friends who get what being someone like me is, the challenges and the possibilities.
Oh, well.
Callan 