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The time has come to bid farewell to Dee Greene. I’ve been pondering Dee’s departure for some time. Ultimately it was a mixture of NPR, married men posing as lesbians, and a long-overdue chat with my dad that prompted me to put the pseudonym to rest.
Taryn is not butch. I am not femme. We are . . . switchy, in more than a few ways. And so although I don’t always personally fit within a context of butch/femme and the accompanying invisibility and wider public-social implications, I still melted when I heard Ivan Coyote’s ode “To all the kick ass, beautiful, fierce femmes out there.” (Text here.)
That’s what I called myself. A married-to-a-man polyamorous Queer grrl.
After I came out as queer, I met the guy I would propose to and marry. I was queer, yes, but I fell in love with a person with a penis. He was more “girl-like” than my current female partner, in that way that gender is fluid and nonspecific and the spectrum is wide.
So we married, and were polyamorous, mostly because I couldn’t commit to being monogamous with him and foregoing my female sexual attraction. We spent nearly a decade together, and I have no regrets. Eventually, I chose to leave our poly family, and after doing so found the woman with whom I intend to spend many years and decades. My former husband and I are very close friends, and falling in love with, and marrying, a man helps me with empathy and makes acute my sense of injustice that now, NOW, that I’ve met the partner who is right for me, most of these United States won’t allow me to marry. Ironic.