Meditation for Queer Femmes – Butches and Librarians

Lately, I have been a bit more out and about, not just my routine in-town necessary errands and visits. I’ve gone to downtown Boston, people. Even to a writer’s residency! There’s still a major scrim over everything for me, I mean, a layer through which everything has to pass before it gets to me, muting and distorting information, like whispered words through a mask, but I am doing what I can to motivate and activate.

            My Boston trip was to keep a dear femme friend company as she went to some appointments, so I had a little alone time to bat about while she was otherwise occupied. It was so much fun walking around the city! I stopped in here or there, when I could deal with putting my mask back on (the ratio of store/organization to mask effort is a complex one). One place I absolutely made the effort for was a really fine branch library. They had an amazing book sale, so amazing, I had to limit myself to one shelf, and still came away with a satchel-full. As I was paying, I said cheerfully to the librarian, “Your book sale is SO DANGEROUS!” “Three dollars, please,” she replied. Oh, darn, she wasn’t going to play.

            It reminded me of another time when I was at a lesbo softball game, standing next to a dyke who read butchy to me. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I tried to engage her, as well, and girlfriends, she was for sure not playing. Maybe not even listening! Yikes.

            As I grow older, I find that I’m misread and misunderstood in places that were tried and true for many years. I always forget that maybe people aren’t expecting an older gal such as myself to josh around with them or whatever it is. Flirt, chivvy, joke. It hurts my feelings the most when I try to connect with those I identify as my people – librarians and butchy dykes, for example – but it happens quite a bit with other folks, too.

            At the writing retreat this past weekend, one of the lectures was about the writing process, but, writ large, it was really about the stories you tell yourself, and if they still serve you. The lecturer said she used to tell herself she was just a dabbler in order to get herself to write; seven published books later, she needed to change that story.

            After I left the Boston branch library with my satchel of books, a woman stopped me to ask for directions. As we parted, she said, “Thank you, Mama!”

            Not three blocks later, another woman stopped me. “You got any spare change for me, Baby?” she asked.

            I am. I am both. What a gift to be seen.

            Petunias and dahlias, my most perfumed femme darlings, who are you in your hearts and how do you show it? How do you invite back the love that you need? How have you changed in your bodies, minds, emotions, and how can you accept the new ways that you are seen by those whose company you crave and those passing you in the street? Sometimes, you get that love and that seeing from the least expected interactions.

            Today, if you are able, pause for a moment and think about some of the stories you tell yourself about who you are. Open your hearts to change, to unexpected connection, to your own ability to flower in surprising and gratifying ways.

            Sweet. Oh, sweet!

Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women. Would you like to offer up a Meditation of your own? I would love that! Send it along to me at

Since 2016, I here at The Total Femme have done my best to post thrice a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy Dingy on Wednesday, and Femme Friday on you know when. I’m pulling back the reins now, darlings, and going down to once a week, this Meditation. This doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear from you. Send me your poetry, your musings, your art, your wonderful you, and I will love you and hold you and feature you right here. So let me hear from you! And stop by on Mondays for a bit of sacred femme space.

Published in: on November 7, 2022 at 11:08 AM  Leave a Comment  
Tags: ,