Leslie Feinberg

I was looking at her while she was talking, thinking to myself thatl’m a stranger in this woman’s eyes. She’s looking at me but she doesn’t see me.

It’s OK to breathe, you know.” We laughed real hard, together.

Then I felt her body move closer and we kind of melted together. I discovered all the sweet surprises a femme can give a butch: her hand on the back of my neck, open on my shoulder, or balled up like a fist. The feel of her belly and thighs against mine. Her lips almost touching my ear.

The music stopped and she started to pull away.

I held her hand gently. “Please?” I asked.

“Honey,” she laughed, “you just said the magic word.”

was forever changed.

Strong to my enemies, tender to those I loved and respected. That’s what I wanted to be. Soon I would have to put these qualities to the test. But for the moment, I was happy.

also didn’t want Grant to see me cold and scared and tired. She seemed fine.

She wasn’t even breathing hard.

also didn’t want Grant to see me cold and scared and tired. She seemed fine.

She wasn’t even breathing hard.

Are you kidding?” she asked me incredulously. “Hallway through I thought I’d die.”

I registered shock. “For real? You made it look so easy!”

She laughed. “You must be joking. The only thing that got me through was it looked like it wasn’t bothering you much. I figured I had to show you an old butch like me could still keep up with a young punk like you!”

“You’re really brave,” she told me.

I felt ashamed; it wasn’t true. “I’m not, really,” I told her honestly. “I’m scared all the time, Edna.”

Her face softened. “What a brave thing to say to me.”

But if you don’t let your fears stop you, that’s bravery.”

“Well, I think it’s stupid.” He sounded like a kid. That’s when I knew I had really hurt him.