Queer Experience Watching Barbie - AFAB Masculinity
I started to go into this in tags on another post but I wanted to type this up separately and try to develop my thoughts a little more. . .
Ryan!Ken’s arc in Barbie (2023) has been buzzing in my head for days.
I got fixated on it for a couple of major reasons:
1) We rarely have seen a feminist movie take time to address men with compassion in how patriarchy harms them too.
2) As a trans masc person, I think it hits a specific part of my identity that I don’t consciously let myself think about for too long. Something about being raised in a female world with sisterhood and community. Then being isolated in adult manhood without the tools to prepare you for that. Conscientious of respecting women and being unbothered by feminimity around you, but not knowing your place in the world.
How do I put it?
I know it’s not the direct intention of the film itself, but I’ve seen other trans folks (especially transmasc), reacting similarly to the feeling we get from it.
Ken’s arc feels pretty reminicent of the struggle afab lgbt folks go through when considering masculinity in their identity (butch lesbians, afab nbs, trans men, etc.)
How to make peace with masculine aspects of yourself without losing the women in your life? (One can argue Kate McKinnon’s Weird Barbie has aspects of this as well.)
Of course, then Ken goes off on the adopting patriarchy ride, which IS the point of the movie, and may skew a bit from the transmasc read on it--though I have known a trans guy here and there who avoids being misgendered so hard that they can become somewhat sexist. To which I say: “You don’t need to have a dick to be a man, and you don’t need to BE a dick to be a man.” But I digress.
Something about Ken being comfortable in a woman’s world but not understanding why he’s being shut out from socially bonding with them (in any sense! Romantic, Familial, Platonic Friendship. . .)
The overall theme of the movie for both Barbie and Ken--in an allegory of heavy gender roles harming all--leading them each to have to figure out who they are in themselves, regardless of others. . .
Trans masc folx can relate to both Barbie and Ken’s arcs.
I don’t want to detract from Barbie’s arc being the main point of the movie.
I think the reason why we get hung up on Ryan!Ken’s character is because. . . we’ve related to the Barbie plot in other movies and shows before, thinking back to our “girlhoods” as children.
I have never seen the arc Ken has in this in any other story!!!!
There are some Man Movies that have attempted to discuss the struggle of Being a Man--but they often come off as too dismissive of feminine experiences, and are therefore as offputting to transmasc people as women.
Because of the nature of the two worlds exhibited in this movie, and Ken’s backround in his setting, personality, and purpose in relation to the Barbies, he’s a Man living with Female Socialization, in a Woman’s World; he’s a male character that inherently admires and respects women in his nature (until the real world influence distorts it).
This isn’t a perfect example of a transmasc experience either, but it’s a lot closer than most of us generally get to see! That’s why so many of us are getting caught up in this.
Please, other trans folx (transfems, too!), I really need us to have a discussion about this. What were your experiences and thoughts around this movie?
P.S. Yeah, we kinda get that nonbinary allegory from Allan (not a Ken, not a Barbie, siding with Feminism in the Gender War), but he wasn’t in significant focus of the plot the way Ryan!Ken was. If I try to read into Allan, I don’t have much to work with.
1K notes
·
View notes
Heya, I really really hope this doesn't come off as particularly rude, but I was wondering, why would bisexual women be considered lesbians sometimes and I think you also brought up transgender men and genderqueer ppl? For bisexual women, I just am kinda confused, they can be in lesbian relationships and lesbian spaces, but just describing them as lesbians seems kinda confusing because lesbian denotes specifically sapphic attraction at least from where I've always heard it, so wouldn't it be kinda confusing. And for the genderqueer folks or trans folks, wouldn't that just bring their genders closer to feminine and at least from what I've heard from some pple I know, they don't like non binary being seen as more womanly (I've heard it being described as woman-lite before annoying) and instead seen as a more inbetween which it sometimes isn't, because of bigotry and other things since nbs can be both fem or masc or androgynous, but wouldn't non woman lesbians kinda push it to be seen as kinda more fem or that person as more fem? I don't know and frankly I'm just kinda confused. I'm really really sorry that this probably comes off as super rude and I hope you forgive me. I frankly just want to learn a little more and have been reading up but wanted to know what you thought. And I just realized how long this was, so so sorry
hello anon! these days, i usually don’t answer asks like these because i’ve already done so several times, but you seem very well-meaning and confused, so i’ll do my best to help. first of all, please check my faq for resources and links about mspec labels and bi lesbians.
second of all—generally—here is my advice for when you encounter a queer label that confuses you:
1) literally just ignore it until you...
2) meet someone in your life who uses that label, at which point you might (respectfully) ask them what using that label means to them specifically, and why it’s important. i’ve done this in real life. the script is something like,
“it’s really cool to get to talk to someone in real life about this stuff—if i may ask, what does identifying as [insert label] mean to you, personally?”
you might also say,
“i’ve never met someone who identifies with [their label] before. would you mind giving me some pointers on the important things to keep in mind in order to respect your identity/make sure you feel respected by me?”
i’ve also never asked anyone to correct me if i mess up and say something rude, but i’m working on the confidence and charisma to be able to say that, because i owe that to others.
all of that said, i wanted to respond to some of your specific questions, and clarify a couple of things below the cut. to clarify:
1. “describing [bisexual women] as lesbians seems kinda confusing because lesbian denotes specifically sapphic attraction”. to be clear i am not the one describing bisexual women as lesbians, in this hypothetical situation. when i post about bi-lesbians, i am posting in support of people who—for whatever reason—chose that label for themselves. what i am not doing: advocating to redefine the classically understood definition of lesbian for the entire populous.
2. “wouldn’t it be kinda confusing”? yes! i understand it can be confusing, and i commend you for expressing your confusion instead of reacting in disgust or anger. there are so many things in the queer community that are confusing, even to me, and you don’t need to feel guilty for asking questions as long as you come from a place of genuine curiosity. being confused isn’t bad, and defining yourself in a way that confuses others is, likewise, no transgression.
3. “for the genderqueer folks or trans folks, wouldn’t [identifying as a lesbian] just bring their genders closer to feminine […] wouldn’t non woman lesbians […] be seen as kinda more fem”? the answer is: sort of. it depends entirely on how and why the person using this label came to these words. you wrote, “i’ve heard from some pple i know, they don’t like non binary being seen as more womanly”, and i have definitely also heard that! so, for people who feel that way, they probably wouldn’t want a label that evokes womanhood and/or aligns them with femininity assigned to them. but every person is different—so for some nonbinary people, they absolutely do not want to be seen as “woman-lite”, whereas for other nonbinary people, they might want to be seen closer to femme than masc, while still nonbinary. this goes back to what i said at the beginning: best practice is to ask the people in your life how they want you to respect them.
closing thoughts: i hope this clarified some things, but i understand that the topic may still be confusing—feel free to message me if you want a non-judgmental queer to talk things through with. i promise i’ll take you in good faith <3
124 notes
·
View notes
into the beat of the night (ch 1) "transmission"
gif by me, moodboard by the lovely @sp00kymulderr ♥
pairing: frankie morales/nb!oc (they/them)
rating: T (for now)
chapter warnings: discussions of sexuality/gender (frankie doesn't understand some things and may use language that would be harmful, but it's not intentional), limited knowledge of the military, goth stereotypes abound, mentions of drug addiction/recovery, swearing, cute shit
word count: 2.7k
dividers by @saradika
for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥
series summary: frankie morales thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.
series masterlist
a/n - i can't thank y'all enough for giving my fic a chance! i'm really nervous about posting it since i haven't properly written anything in years, but i've had some lovely cheerleaders (@scenaaario - who is also my lovely beta, i want to kiss you on the mouth for making this fic sound like i wanted it to ♥♥ - @undercoverpena @mrsquill and @kedsandtubesocks i love you guys ♥) along the way that gave me the motivation to post this little story. comments and reblogs are super appreciated! i'd love to hear what y'all think <3
In 1994, the U.S. adopted “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” as the official federal policy on military service by lesbian, gay and bisexual individuals. It was officially repealed in 2011. Seventeen years. For seventeen years, LGBTQ folks, Frankie included, had to hide. At least, he felt he needed to.
He knew he was bisexual when he and his childhood best friend Mateo were in their sophomore year of high school. Frankie and all the other boys started to hit puberty the year before and things were changing: facial hair was slowly growing, voices were dropping. Mateo started to develop a little faster than Frankie did. Frankie really liked how Mateo was developing. It was a little weird, because they’d been best friends since they were still wearing underoos, but Frankie started to feel things whenever he hung out with Mateo. Things he normally only felt whenever Alana in third period flipped her hair over her shoulder, or whenever Charlotte in fifth period stretched before she started writing and her sweater pulled over her chest a little too much.
Frankie didn’t know what to do with this information or these feelings. He didn’t have a word for any of it, so he just never said anything. He had a couple girlfriends throughout high school, and to anyone who cared to think on it, would see that Frankie was like any other straight, high school boy.
In 1994, Francisco Morales joined the military. He was nineteen. It was never his plan growing up to join, but his dad always wanted him to. When he didn’t have his own plan after high school, he figured it was a safe bet since he had family in the service. While there, he worked his way up in the ranks and eventually met his brothers: Santiago, Benny, Will, and Tom. They would die for each other, had signed up to do so, in fact. He’d grown closest to Santiago, and it was the first time since he was 15 that he got those feelings again. He pushed them to the side, though, because that’s when she came into his life. He didn’t need those feelings getting in the way.
Frankie’s bisexuality really only came into his life a couple of times. His first girlfriend in the military, Layla, was also bisexual and that’s when he learned what the word was and that it also applied to him. She only ever told him since Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was in full swing. Of course he kept her secret, because she also kept his.
The only one of his group of brothers that didn’t know about his sexuality was Tom. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him, and the others agreed it was best to keep it quiet. Santiago was the first one to know, then Will, and finally Benny. Ben was Ben about it when he found out. He immediately hugged Frankie and excitedly suggested they go to a gay bar instead of their usual hang out. It made Frankie laugh and Will smacked Ben on the back of the head. (They did end up going to a couple of gay bars from time to time. Frankie only went home with a guy once and the guys gave him a lot of shit for it, asking for details. Santiago gave him a smile and patted him on the back and said, “I’m glad you’re finally here, hermano.”)
Frankie had one man he’d consider a “boyfriend” in his life. After he left the military and after DADT was repealed, he went on a bit of a binge. He started hooking up with people more often, despite his introverted nature. He was always careful, safe, and eventually kept to one man for a couple years, before an especially messy breakup. They were both pilots in the military, but were based in different states; Frankie in Florida, and Jackson in Kentucky. They bonded quickly after meeting at a nightclub in Nashville. Neither one of them remembers why they were there, but they made it a point to see each other frequently, each of them taking turns flying out to see the other.
The breakup happened after Jackson found Frankie’s stash for the last time. The military affected everyone differently. For Frankie, his coke addiction is what got him through the sleepless nights. Jackson had found Frankie one too many times leaned over the back of a toilet and snorting god knows what. Jackson had his own problems with drugs and felt that Frankie ignored them in search of his next fix. Addiction had completely taken over Frankie’s life for the better part of five years. Frankie hated Jackson for leaving him when he most needed him, and lashed out, accusing Jackson of only ever wanting to fuck. That broke Jackson, as he thought about how deeply he loved Frankie. Gay marriage was legalized a year later, and had things panned out differently, they might still be together. He doesn’t blame Jackson for leaving anymore.
Frankie’s daughter, Marisol, changed everything. She was the love of his life, and he would do anything for her. After going back to his days of sleeping around after Jackson left, he met Maya. He kept telling her that he would get clean and go to therapy while she was pregnant, but not until he held his little Marisol in his arms for the first time did he commit to both. He and Maya never planned on being together officially, and decided co-parenting would be their best option.
He’d been clean and sober for two years by the time Santi told him about the Colombia job. He hadn’t flown, or been allowed to in that time, and was pretty content to never do so again. Every time he got in the pilot’s seat, it would take him to terrible places. But Santi was his best friend, so he took the job. He relapsed when he got home, after Tom. He never blamed Santi for it. He gave Frankie a choice, and where he could’ve said no, he didn’t.
Which brings him to where he is now, two years after Colombia. He’d crossed the street and stood in line for the entrance. He hadn’t been to this nightclub in a while. He looked up at the sign for the club, and raised an eyebrow. The Night Owl. That… isn’t what it was called last time. Was it sold? Apparently, it had recently undergone a rebranding, with new owners, and a slightly… different clientele.
The best way he could describe it now was that it was a goth club. Frankie had never personally been to this sort of club, not really being a fan of the music or subculture, but never had a negative opinion either. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he entered, the bouncer giving him a once over and chuckling, but letting him in anyway.
He made his way over to the bar and had a seat, taking in his surroundings and started people watching. He planned on going out tonight, and possibly go home with someone. A club is a club, so he decided to stick around and see what all the fuss was about.
The walls shook with the heavy bass and beats of the music. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard before. His nostrils filled with the scent of clove cigarettes and hairspray. Everywhere he looked, someone completely decked out in teased hair and black clothing caught his attention. He smiled softly at all the variations in people’s style, wondering how long it took for all of them to get ready in the morning.
The bartender, a large man with heavy eye makeup and a lot of chains and spikes, came up to him and smirked. He felt a presence behind him and when Frankie finally faced forward again, he startled a little, not expecting such an imposing figure to be giving him a staredown.
“What’ll you be havin’, stripes?”
“Stripes?”
The bartender, who had a patch sewed onto his denim vest that read “Viper”, rolled his eyes and gestured vaguely to Frankie’s whole self. “You mean to tell me you’re not military?”
Frankie blinked a couple times and huffed a laugh. “Ex-military, yeah. Is that… okay?”
Viper gave him a long look, eyes slightly narrowed, and pointed to one of the many tattoos on his arm, up high on his shoulder. It was an old one, a little faded, but Frankie recognized it as the stripes given to Sergeant Majors. “I left after this. Got injured,” he said.
“Sorry to hear that.”
Viper shrugged and reached under the bar, cleaning a glass. “I’m not. So what’re you havin’?”
Frankie thought about it for a second. “I’ll probably regret this, but surprise me.”
An amused look crossed Viper’s features, but he nodded and started mixing a drink for him. Frankie noticed all the ingredients used; lager beer, hard cider, and some kind of syrup. He raised a brow and picked up the glass as Viper slid it across the bar for him. Frankie gave him a look as if to say, ‘Is this safe?’ despite having just watched Viper make it. The bartender chuckled and just gestured for him to give it a try.
Frankie took a deep breath and gulped down a drink. A little foam was stuck to his mustache when he lowered the glass from his face. “Not bad. What is it?” Frankie asked.
“Snakebite. Kind of a staple around here,” Viper hummed, cleaning a different glass.
Frankie chuckled at the name. Of course that’s what it was called.
Viper was pulled away when a pretty girl with big, teased hair and dark makeup came up to the bar. Frankie took the opportunity to look around the place again.
The music was best described as “dark” and “broody”, unsurprisingly, with slow tempos and even lower vocals. Everyone on the dancefloor was slowly swaying back and forth and, once in a while, would move their arms in ethereal shapes.
Frankie remembered seeing one of the younger teachers at Marisol’s daycare wearing a t-shirt with a band logo that looked like a bundle of sticks. He tried figuring out what it said once, but was too afraid to ask, so he still doesn’t know. He doesn’t think she’d be at this kind of club.
“You’re new. Bit like a zoo your first time here, I bet.”
Frankie startled, putting his hand over his heart and turned to look at who was talking. Someone had sat next to him and was grinning, taking a sip from their own drink; something dark red and a little cloudy. He blinked a couple times and took in their features; big green eyes rimmed with dark lines, two different nose piercings, and black lipstick. Their hair was long and straight, dark, and with the right side in front of their ear shaved completely. He couldn’t quite figure out if who he was talking to was male or female, the androgyny of their look very clear.
“Uhh, hello?” They waved their hand, full of rings and black nail polish, in front of his face and chuckled quietly. “Oh! Maybe–” They cut themselves off and started making a bunch of symbols and shapes with their fingers and hands.
Frankie blinked and started laughing softly. “I’m not deaf! Sorry,” he grinned. “You just startled me, that's all.”
“Oh!” The stranger laughed, too, putting a hand on his right knee in a friendly gesture. He looked down at the hand and smiled, his heart skipping a beat. Even if he didn’t know very much about them, he couldn’t deny it; they were very pretty.
He removed his cap and ran his fingers through the unruly curls for a second before putting the hat back on. “Sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, it’s my first time here. I didn’t realize the club had changed owners.”
“It did?” They asked, tilting their head to the left slightly.
“Yeah, it was a– Uh, last time I was here, it was a… different kind of club,” Frankie mumbled.
The stranger’s eyes twinkled mischievously, the smirk still present on their lips. “What kind of club? Are you secretly into some really heavy BDSM type stuff?” They wiggled their eyebrows.
Frankie had started taking a drink of his Snakebite again and nearly choked on it at the stranger’s teasing. He coughed a couple times, a wide grin on his face. “No! Nothing like that,” he chuckled.
The stranger snapped their ring-clad fingers like they were hoping he’d say otherwise and slumped their shoulders in disappointment. “Damn…”
Frankie’s cheeks warmed at the insinuation, but laughed, convinced they were just joking with him. He cleared his throat and continued, “Y-Yeah, uh, I wasn’t expecting this kind of… group, when I came by. Although, the name of the place probably should’ve warned me.”
“What kind of group?” The stranger grinned, watching his handsome features change from thoughtful to concerned.
Frankie panicked, worried he’d somehow offended them, and cleared his throat again. “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with– Um! I don’t, actually… know,” he tapered off, looking down as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.
The stranger snorted and waved him off. “I’m fucking with you,” they laughed. “I know what you mean. When I heard a new club opened up closer to my apartment, I got pretty excited. No more hour-long drives to the nearest one, y’know?”
Frankie nodded, their low, smooth voice captivating him the longer they spoke.
“Oh! Meant to say this before, but my name’s River,” they smiled and held their hand out to him to shake.
“Frankie,” he answered, holding his own hand out to return the gesture. But River beat him to it, and gripped his long, thick fingers in their own hand and kissed the back of his softly.
Frankie blushed like mad, eyes widening slightly. No one had ever kissed his hand before. He kept his eyes downcast, his hand still securely in River’s grasp.
River tilted their head, brows furrowed in concern before letting go of his hand. “Sorry, was that–?”
“No! N-No, um…” Frankie smiled shyly, tugging at a loose curl behind his ear. “It was fine– Nice, actually.”
River grinned as if they had clocked him immediately. “Well, Frankie, it was very nice meeting you. Will I see you here again?” They asked, looking him up and down.
Frankie found himself nodding before he could say or do anything else. “Y-Yeah, absolutely. Um, how–?”
“My song just came on, and I simply must dance to it. Later,” River winked, stood, and leaned over to kiss Frankie’s cheek as they slipped something into the front pocket of his flannel shirt.
River was gone before Frankie could ask anything else, his eyes following after them as they reached the dancefloor. He watched them dance for a few minutes before he was brought out of it by someone clearing their throat behind him. He spun around and saw Viper, the bartender, leaning toward him and giving him a look.
“You gonna pay for these drinks?” He grumbled, motioning toward Frankie’s Snakebite and whatever River was drinking.
He followed Viper’s tattooed finger and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his wallet out and putting a couple bills on the bar. Viper nodded in thanks and Frankie took that as his cue to leave.
As he stood, he looked toward the dancefloor again in the hopes of seeing River one last time. When he didn’t, he tried to shake himself off and made his way toward the entrance. The bouncer gave him a look and Frankie just shrugged as he exited the club. The cool night air hit his still-warm cheeks, making him feel like he came back to reality.
“Oh, right,” he mumbled to himself and reached into his front pocket and pulled out a little scrap of paper. A phone number with two cute little devil horns drawn on either side and a little, ‘text me?’ written down beneath it.
Frankie smiled to himself and rubbed the ink on the paper with his thumb.
236 notes
·
View notes