Signs You’re A Spoiled AF Femme

Are you feeling super defensive about the title of this essay?

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It’s taken me an ungodly long time to accept that I’m a “femme.” The word felt far too delicate to me. I’m no piece of lace—I’m rough and gruff and brutal in energy. Now, I realize that one can be rough and gruff and femme as f*ck because I’ve read a lot of very “woke” articles about the nuances of identity on the internet. It took me even longer, however, to admit that I’m spoiled.

Not trust-fund-I’m-a-rich-bitch spoiled (holy shit, I wish), but spoiled as far as my interpersonal relationships go. I’m spoiled in the sense that I have no idea how to make a hotel reservation, because my girlfriend always does that shit for me. I didn’t want to own that I was a super-spoiled princess, because I felt like being a super-spoiled princess meant being super stupid. Then I realized that only smart people are savvy enough to live such a luxurious, fruitful existence.

So, now, I identify as a spoiled femme and am very proud of it.

Look, before you get your frilly femme-y panties into a melodramatic twist up the ol’ bum, hear me out, babe. I’m not saying that ALL FEMMES ARE SPOILED. I’m saying that I’m spoiled. Most femmes I know happen to be spoiled rotten too. And deservingly so! That lipgloss doesn’t apply itself, you know? It takes effort to be a glorious femme. It takes talent. It takes impeccable taste. It takes an iconic, rare energy that should be celebrated at all times by those who do not possess it.

So, to all my over-indulged feminine creatures, regardless of where you land on the gender spectrum, I want you to ~own~ the fact that you’re a princess brat bitch! Stop being in denial about it! It’s exhausting. Can we all just stop taking ourselves so seriously and get a grip?

And if you can’t tell whether or not you’re a spoiled femme, here are some surefire signs.

1. You always get a hot beverage served to you whilst still in bed.

I like to lay in bed like a pretty, pretty pillow princess and cuddle with my dog for as long as possible in the mornings as I delicately sip a latte. I never ask for coffee in bed, but it always seems to magically appear on my nightstand, you know? Usually it’s in my signature “Mermaid Queen” mug, nice and scalding hot with a cold sexy splash of vanilla.

It doesn’t matter who I’m dating; the ability to conjure up coffee in bed transcends both age and stereotype. Spoiled femmes just radiate a “get me coffee in bed” vibration that butches, in particular, are very tapped into.

If you seem to always have a beautiful hot beverage cradled into your baby-soft hands before you’ve emerged from your luscious bed, you’re a spoiled femme, honey.

Don’t feel guilty. You didn’t choose this life. It chose you. Purr. 

2. You don’t think twice before requesting stiletto acrylic nails to your manicurist.

I know, I know—there have been approximately ten thousand think pieces as to why it’s OK FOR LESBIANS TO HAVE LONG NAILS. I get it, I get it. Yawn.

However, if you don’t even ask yourself if your wicked nail shape and extreme nail length might possibly scratch up your partner’s vagina, if it’s not even a mild concern of yours, if you don’t feel even slightly worried about tattering the nether regions of her body, then, my darling, you’re one very spoiled femme. Clearly, you don’t go downtown that much (at least with your fingers), because you’re too busy princess-ing on your silk pillows as your partner pleases you. Spoiled girls always come first.

3. You’re always forgetting your ID.

I always forget to check if my ID is in my going out clutch because I’m so nauseatingly spoiled that I think I’m the exception to every rule. Like I don’t need to flash my government-issued ID before being allowed into the bar. I’m that special.

And, almost all of the time, I swish through the doors of the bar without anyone saying a lone word to me! Spoiled femmes rarely get asked for anything, proper identification included.

4. You’re sort of useless.

One day it struck me like lightning in the rain! I have no idea how to change the oil ofa car. Actually, I don’t really know how to drive a car for that matter. Nor do I really care about learning how to do either of those things.

Why? Why wouldn’t a grown-ass woman want to learn the inner-workings of a car? Especially a royally independent creature like moi? 

Because I know, in the deepest pit of my gay heart, that there will always be someone to do that for me! There will always be a type-A lesbian chauffering me around the city, and there will always be a friendly butch around to take care of the oil.

It’s just like how there will always be someone to build the IKEA furniture, drill the painting into the wall, help me navigate my taxes (by help me, I mean “do them for me”), boil the hot water, and slice the bagel in half and fluff the silk pillows before I lay upon the bed like a true princess.

If you’re a useless human being who doesn’t know how to do anything practical, you’re a spoiled femme creature dahling. Don’t be ashamed! Whatever we lack in basic life- skills, we make up for in character, charm, and soul. No one has soul like a femme.

5. You have a lot of orgasms.

Do you have more than six orgasms (not including the ones you give yourself) per week? Oh, you do honey? Are your partners deeply invested in your orgasms? Is she not satisfied unless she gives you multiple orgasms night after night? Are you basically cumming all the goddamn time?

If this is the case, you’re f*cking spoiled. Because to me, the very definition of spoiled is other people being overly invested in your pleasure. 

6. Are you feeling super defensive right now?

Are you feeling defensive and angry, but also oddly guilty? You’re definitely a wonderfully, super spoiled femme. So, stop fighting it, honey! EMBRACE IT. You deserve it. Meow!



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