Butch Whispers: Sage Wilson
I’m originally from California, but I’ve lived in Melbourne for the past 6 years. I’ve spent that time working in the coffee industry. It’s a passion as well as a career, I’m a massive nerd about it! For now, I’m business development manager for a coffee company.
1. What is your favorite or funniest memory from your dating life?
This one is pretty good. I was hooking up with a baby queer, and she was really going to town on me. I was having fun, but the pace was pretty hectic. As she was going, she looked up at me and belted, “what I lack in experience, I make up in enthusiasm!” Right as she said it, her finger slipped out of me and she punched me right in the clit.
Now, we’re married…
Just kidding, I never saw her again.
Suffice to say, I was pretty much ready for bed after that. I hobbled her to the door and that was that.
2. Tell us about a time that being butch positively impacted your life.
When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a boy. At five, I announced to my family I’d like to be called “Carlos” of all names. I still think it’s funny! I chose it off one of the kids I saw on Barney who I thought was so cool. I convinced my mom to take me to the barber and get my hair cut short. The hairdresser gave me a bob. I hated it and demanded my mom take me to get a real boys cut. I settled on a handsome little bowl cut. I loved it. I felt so affirmed. My parents were actually pretty good sports about it. It was the 90’s and I think they were quietly freaking out, but they let me do it. I lived like this for years! It was the most affirmed period of my entire childhood.
The flutter in my heart when people thought I was a boy was incredible, I still remember it. Eventually, I caved to puberty and trying to fit in, and started dressing like a girl. It always felt like cosplay to me.
I had to have my moment where I realised I wasn’t a girl, I was non-binary. Being a little boy as a kid was the only other option, but as an adult, I was really at home in a place outside the lines. I created that space for myself, and I think Carlos would have lost their little minds if they could just see me now. Being butch was the dream, and I’m loving it.
3. What has been the best thing that you’ve been wrong about in your life?
I used to be so afraid of sex. There was real trauma there, but I also didn’t think anybody would ever find my gender identity attractive, because I didn’t. There were layers and layers of internalized shame. I felt I wasn’t living up to the expectations of sex appeal I saw around me. I didn’t have anybody sexy and masc presenting I could look up to that could reset that standard I had learned. I thought I’d never understand what people enjoyed about sex, how people could be so comfortable in their bodies, and that it all wasn’t for me.
I had to do a lot of work to learn to love my body. I had to reach a point where I stopped acting out what other people expected of me, and started doing what made me feel sexy and handsome. I got into men’s fashion, and I’d spend hours putting on music that made me feel hot, and dressing up in my room, and dancing. Putting fits together helped me feel handsome from a deep place, I didn’t need anybody’s opinion to validate it. I knew I looked good and I could carry that around with me everywhere. It changed my life, and it changed how I felt when I didn’t have any clothes on as well.
I’m so glad I feel confident now, that I was wrong about never believing I could feel at home in my body. I love sex, and I love being nude. It all came from using my body as a canvas for fashion.
1. What is your favorite or funniest memory from your dating life?
This one is pretty good. I was hooking up with a baby queer, and she was really going to town on me. I was having fun, but the pace was pretty hectic. As she was going, she looked up at me and belted, “what I lack in experience, I make up in enthusiasm!” Right as she said it, her finger slipped out of me and she punched me right in the clit.
Now, we’re married…
Just kidding, I never saw her again.
Suffice to say, I was pretty much ready for bed after that. I hobbled her to the door and that was that.
2. Tell us about a time that being butch positively impacted your life.
When I was a little kid, I wanted to be a boy. At five, I announced to my family I’d like to be called “Carlos” of all names. I still think it’s funny! I chose it off one of the kids I saw on Barney who I thought was so cool. I convinced my mom to take me to the barber and get my hair cut short. The hairdresser gave me a bob. I hated it and demanded my mom take me to get a real boys cut. I settled on a handsome little bowl cut. I loved it. I felt so affirmed. My parents were actually pretty good sports about it. It was the 90’s and I think they were quietly freaking out, but they let me do it. I lived like this for years! It was the most affirmed period of my entire childhood.
The flutter in my heart when people thought I was a boy was incredible, I still remember it. Eventually, I caved to puberty and trying to fit in, and started dressing like a girl. It always felt like cosplay to me.
I had to have my moment where I realised I wasn’t a girl, I was non-binary. Being a little boy as a kid was the only other option, but as an adult, I was really at home in a place outside the lines. I created that space for myself, and I think Carlos would have lost their little minds if they could just see me now. Being butch was the dream, and I’m loving it.
3. What has been the best thing that you’ve been wrong about in your life?
I used to be so afraid of sex. There was real trauma there, but I also didn’t think anybody would ever find my gender identity attractive, because I didn’t. There were layers and layers of internalized shame. I felt I wasn’t living up to the expectations of sex appeal I saw around me. I didn’t have anybody sexy and masc presenting I could look up to that could reset that standard I had learned. I thought I’d never understand what people enjoyed about sex, how people could be so comfortable in their bodies, and that it all wasn’t for me.
I had to do a lot of work to learn to love my body. I had to reach a point where I stopped acting out what other people expected of me, and started doing what made me feel sexy and handsome. I got into men’s fashion, and I’d spend hours putting on music that made me feel hot, and dressing up in my room, and dancing. Putting fits together helped me feel handsome from a deep place, I didn’t need anybody’s opinion to validate it. I knew I looked good and I could carry that around with me everywhere. It changed my life, and it changed how I felt when I didn’t have any clothes on as well.
I’m so glad I feel confident now, that I was wrong about never believing I could feel at home in my body. I love sex, and I love being nude. It all came from using my body as a canvas for fashion.
In my vision, masculinity is like a huge old tree. It’s grounded and peaceful, and it’s strong, but it’s also flexible. It adapts to weather and seasons, yet it always knows what it is. It’s not afraid or reactionary. It protects those who wish to take shelter, but it’s not possessive; one is free to come and go as they please. There’s a quiet wisdom in masculinity that doesn’t need to be explained.
4. What’s your spiritual understanding of masculinity?
I think the institution of cis-men have painted a picture of masculinity as being hard and tough and rugged. I actually think of it a lot softer than that. In my vision, masculinity is like a huge old tree. It’s grounded and peaceful, and it’s strong, but it’s also flexible. It adapts to weather and seasons, yet it always knows what it is. It’s not afraid, or reactionary. It protects those who wish to take shelter, but it’s not possessive, one is free to come and go as they please. There’s a quiet wisdom in masculinity that doesn’t need to be explained. It should feel safe. I think being butch is so much more of this type of masculinity than I ever really see in the mainstream.
5. Has there been a memory, moment, or time in your life where being butch made your experience particularly difficult?
Going back to where I’m from in California is hard. There are not a lot of queer people, and very few butch folks in my hometown at all. Gender neutral toilets? Not a chance. As I’ve embraced my butchness more and more, I find it harder to return to where I’m from. I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel seen. It might not be an outward homophobia, but it still feels hostile. Coming out to my core family as non-binary was fine, they’re all wonderful. My extended family doesn’t all understand. I have little cousins ask if I’m a boy or a girl. I have uncles who refuse to acknowledge my name or pronouns. Does it hurt? I learned to not let people’s opinions of my lifestyle sink under my skin. I definitely get anxiety about using gendered toilets, I’ve had so many experiences with “gender-police” trying to tell me where to go.
“Do I look like an idiot to you? Because you’re treating me like I look like an idiot.”
It’s still tough, working with all sorts of people for my job. I wear a pronoun badge often but I don’t usually get gendered properly. I’m not the type to keep correcting people, I’m too laid back. I just let it go and find my validation from within. I’d love to continue to shimmy further away from the binary, but at the end of the day, I still feel like most people see things a bit too black and white for me.
It’s hard because I love where I’m from in a lot of ways, I just don’t think I want to go back to that being the norm though. I have searched all over the world for my queer community, where I don’t have to think twice about what I present as.
6. Are there parts of your inherit masculinity you’ve ever felt like you had to work to unlearn?
Being stoic and not talking about my feelings when they come up has been a huge hurdle to unlearn, and something I think society teaches boys and men to consider masculine.
I absolutely think I used to look at masculinity as being “fine” with everything and not letting my emotions come to the surface. I didn’t think it was ok to not be ok. It’s such a damaging way to live for myself and the people closest to me, I see so many men suffer through this too.
I’ve had to learn to be brave, to confront feelings and let them breathe and trust that I’m safe to speak about them. It’s practice, it’s really hard work. The toughest thing in the world for me is to be able to articulate complicated emotions without intellectualizing them OR letting them get out of control and spin me out. Learning it’s ok to not be ok has changed everything in the way I see myself and my masculinity.
4. What’s your spiritual understanding of masculinity?
I think the institution of cis-men have painted a picture of masculinity as being hard and tough and rugged. I actually think of it a lot softer than that. In my vision, masculinity is like a huge old tree. It’s grounded and peaceful, and it’s strong, but it’s also flexible. It adapts to weather and seasons, yet it always knows what it is. It’s not afraid, or reactionary. It protects those who wish to take shelter, but it’s not possessive, one is free to come and go as they please. There’s a quiet wisdom in masculinity that doesn’t need to be explained. It should feel safe. I think being butch is so much more of this type of masculinity than I ever really see in the mainstream.
5. Has there been a memory, moment, or time in your life where being butch made your experience particularly difficult?
Going back to where I’m from in California is hard. There are not a lot of queer people, and very few butch folks in my hometown at all. Gender neutral toilets? Not a chance. As I’ve embraced my butchness more and more, I find it harder to return to where I’m from. I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel seen. It might not be an outward homophobia, but it still feels hostile. Coming out to my core family as non-binary was fine, they’re all wonderful. My extended family doesn’t all understand. I have little cousins ask if I’m a boy or a girl. I have uncles who refuse to acknowledge my name or pronouns. Does it hurt? I learned to not let people’s opinions of my lifestyle sink under my skin. I definitely get anxiety about using gendered toilets, I’ve had so many experiences with “gender-police” trying to tell me where to go.
“Do I look like an idiot to you? Because you’re treating me like I look like an idiot.”
It’s still tough, working with all sorts of people for my job. I wear a pronoun badge often but I don’t usually get gendered properly. I’m not the type to keep correcting people, I’m too laid back. I just let it go and find my validation from within. I’d love to continue to shimmy further away from the binary, but at the end of the day, I still feel like most people see things a bit too black and white for me.
It’s hard because I love where I’m from in a lot of ways, I just don’t think I want to go back to that being the norm though. I have searched all over the world for my queer community, where I don’t have to think twice about what I present as.
6. Are there parts of your inherit masculinity you’ve ever felt like you had to work to unlearn?
Being stoic and not talking about my feelings when they come up has been a huge hurdle to unlearn, and something I think society teaches boys and men to consider masculine.
I absolutely think I used to look at masculinity as being “fine” with everything and not letting my emotions come to the surface. I didn’t think it was ok to not be ok. It’s such a damaging way to live for myself and the people closest to me, I see so many men suffer through this too.
I’ve had to learn to be brave, to confront feelings and let them breathe and trust that I’m safe to speak about them. It’s practice, it’s really hard work. The toughest thing in the world for me is to be able to articulate complicated emotions without intellectualizing them OR letting them get out of control and spin me out. Learning it’s ok to not be ok has changed everything in the way I see myself and my masculinity.
