Faggy butch was good. It accurately described my pink button down shirts, my giggles, the fact that I talk with my hands. I once saw a tape of myself in which I made a gesture that looked more like it belonged in A Chorus Line than in the middle of an interview. Faggy butch was like genderqueer—not quite this or that, a little of both, maybe. A friend once said to me, “I access my femininity through my masculinity.”

Coming Back Around to Butch - Miriam Zoila Pérez