In this age of aggressive queer-baiting and pink-washing, sometimes I hear that 'representation is important' and want to bang my head against the wall. Fuck representation. I really do not need a Disney princess to look like me, thank you very much. Then I come across a book like this, clearly written by a queer person for queer people because of a genuine desire to share, and I calm down. Because it is of course important to feel not-alone.

What can I say, I love A.K. Summers, I want her to be my friend and build shelves together. She is an old-style butch lady, part of an identity group that is almost disappearing. She knows it and mourns it in the book, at times perhaps coming a bit close to a 'why does gender have to be so complicated' stance, or at least a 'youth these days' stance, but she is saved but what seems like an honest sense of curiosity and openness to try and learn why fewer younger people feel able or willing to identify as masculine women, a desire I see expressed through the list of reading recommendations at the end of the book.

I also love the book's graphic style. It really has the vibe of a DIY internet strip, seeming rough and ready compared to the many recent graphic novels where every single frame could become a picture to hang on the wall, and every detail is carefully thought through.

Butch pregnancy sounds tough, but in the way many things in many lives are tough. A.K. Summers if freaked out by her body, feels lonely, is in pain, doesn't feel up to the task - all things that are surely related to her gender identity but also probably quite common, if unspoken, experiences for pregnant people? In one of the last spreads, she's giving birth and imagines herself on a jumping board, realising that whether she jumps or not, she's going fall: she no longer needs to feel she won't be able to do it, because she's in the middle of it and there is no stopping it.