Q: Can you introduce yourself?
A: People usually call me PR, but yeah — PLR. I’d describe myself as a masculine cis woman. I only really learned the term “stud” relatively recently, but within the Black community, especially among Black masculine lesbians, that identity made sense to me. So yeah, I’d say I’m a stud.

Q: How does being a stud connect to your identity?
A: I think it’s tied to my mannerisms and how I move through the world, but it’s complicated because what even counts as masculine or feminine? I don’t know. I just feel more assertive now. When I was younger and hadn’t really come to terms with myself, there was a disconnect. Now I feel more comfortable in my body and identity, even if I still question what masculinity and femininity actually mean. 

Q: Were you always masculine presenting?
A: Not really. I was into sports and theater growing up, but physically I presented differently. I think media and school fed me a narrow idea of femininity. I thought if I wanted to succeed, especially in acting, I needed to perform this very traditional feminine role. As I got older, I realized I was acting out a script more than being myself. That’s when things started to shift. 

Q: Did you always know you were a lesbian?
A: I officially came out at 16, but honestly I think I knew way earlier — maybe around 9 or 10. When we played with Barbies, I always wanted to be Ken. 

I think there was already this desire to protect and embody masculinity before I had language for it. 

Q: Were there objects or aesthetics that helped affirm your identity?
A: I actually had to think about that. At first nothing came to mind, but later I realized it started with my haircut. 

Cutting my hair felt symbolic. I’d grown up believing feminine women needed long hair, so cutting it became this turning point for me. Then clothing followed.

 Even though those things are superficial on paper, they helped my outside finally match what I’d been feeling internally. 

Q: What drew you toward identifying as a stud?
A: Honestly, the feelings were always there. But my first serious relationship changed something. At the time I was still presenting very femme, and my ex mentioned she was attracted to masculine women too. It sounds small, but hearing that cracked something open in me. I realized maybe this wasn’t just some private feeling I had to suppress — maybe it was actually okay to be this way. 

Q: Why do you think you felt boxed into femininity for so long?
A: Schooling, honestly. I went to traditional schools where anything outside straightness felt taboo. My family actually had queer relatives, so it wasn’t necessarily my parents. It was just the culture around me. There was this overwhelming sense that there was one acceptable way to exist. 

Q: Did stereotypes about masculine lesbians affect you?
A: Definitely. Especially stereotypes around Black studs being “aggressive.” Even using that word makes me nervous because it’s tied so heavily to racism too. I’ve noticed women physically move away from me in public now in ways they didn’t when I presented femme. Sometimes I worry people see me as threatening or predatory when I’m just trying to connect. 

Q: How do you deal with that fear of being perceived negatively?
A: I’m very in my head. Maybe too aware of myself sometimes. I try not to immediately assume everyone else is wrong. I genuinely reflect on whether I’m doing something that makes people uncomfortable. But I also know some of it comes from stereotypes about lesbians and masculine women. 

It’s hard to separate what’s real from what’s internalized. 

Q: When did you really begin exploring your masculinity?
A: Late twenties — around 28 or 29. That’s when I started dating my ex and had that realization. The first step was definitely cutting my hair. Then clothing changed. Eventually my actual mannerisms and physical presence started to align too. It felt like I could finally be myself fully. 

Q: How has living in New York shaped your identity?
A: I was born and raised in Brooklyn, so this is all I really know. But being in places like Flatbush, especially around other Black queer people, helped me feel represented. I see people who look and move like me. I’m an actor, so I people-watch constantly. Seeing other masculine-presenting people around me made me feel less isolated. 

Q: Do stereotypes about masculinity affect how you behave?
A: Yeah. I think I sometimes feel pressure to embody these old-school ideas of masculinity — being chivalrous, holding doors, being the protector. Those ideas definitely shaped me growing up. Even though now I know masculinity is way more fluid and nuanced than that, the stereotypes still live in my head. 

Q: Is there an object that feels connected to your identity?
A: My chains. I wear two chains whenever I play pickleball or before anything high-stakes. They’re gifts from my family and they feel like good luck charms. Jewelry has always made me feel grounded. 

It’s not about masculinity or femininity — it’s about connection. 

Q: Why are those chains meaningful to you?
A: Because they represent my family. My parents are older and probably still hold onto traditional ideas about femininity, but they’ve always loved and accepted me completely. My mom is basically my best friend. Wearing those chains reminds me that I carry that support with me everywhere. 

Q: Who are you outside of being a stud?
A: I’m an actor. I play pickleball. I work with kids. I’m just trying to be a functional human being and survive and make a difference. Being a stud is part of me, but it’s not all of me