There already exist a couple of proposed definitions of the term “stone femme.” In one, the stone femme is the partner of a stone butch. In another, the femme herself is stone, not desirous of having her genitals touched in a sexual manner.
Well, I have another definition: the femme with a heart of stone. Or the femme who portrays a heart of stone. (Image is everything, isn’t it?) It’s amusing to me really, since the heteronormative stereotype is such that the female is portrayed as the more emotional sex, always getting teary for any number reasons and collapsing under pressure while the calmly rational male holds up the ceiling and saves the day.
Here is my confession: under this definition, I am a stone femme. For many reasons, most of them boiling down to self-preservation, I conceal and often quell my emotions entirely, from others and from myself. I have learned to control the display and even the existence of my emotions so rigidly that the word “cold” has been used to describe me more than once.
The one emotion I have not learned to control is frustration. Go figure.
As far as my memory serves me, I do not remember always being like this. I remember being a pretty extroverted child, not particularly concerned with how my displays of SELF would be taken by my peers. Somewhere along the line, though, I ate of the Forbidden Fruit and suddenly became aware of the negative reactions directed at me. Not being one to relish feelings of hurt and shame, I learned to control their root cause. I learned to keep closed the doors that not only would allow my core self through but also leave me vulnerable to attack by those who would not have me express myself.
I developed self control and a well-honed sense of sarcasm—the best shield. The absolute best armor to cover my vulnerabilities and make them inaccessible. Because emotion IS vulnerability. Even the desire to put effort into something—even something as simple as writing smutty stories—constitutes an emotion/vulnerability that would be put out there in an open blog environment, ready for the vultures to descend.
Goddamn, I’m one big glowing ray of sunshine, aren’t I?
The interesting thing is that currently I’m writing this from a detached, largely scientific mindset. And not because I don’t want to invest any emotion into this, but because I HAVE invested emotion into this and have begun to, well… heal. Develop. Progress. With the help of those whom I have allowed in, allowed to love me and who have not broken that trust, I’m learning that certain vulnerabilities are okay. I’m learning that developing a fine-tuned radar and sense of situational judgment is vastly preferable to closing myself down entirely. I’m getting there.
This progress is certainly better for my mental state, that’s for sure.
Oh and if anyone can name the movie that quote came from without using Google, you will win the Shameless Chick Flick Fan Award. C’mon. Don’t be shy.