Natalie, I have a tad bit of perspective on this topic (for a cis-het guy, anyway) having lived with a butch roommate and her femme lover for seven months.

Tish was butch from preference but also necessity — her system produced way more testosterone than the average female body, leaving her with much thicker hair growing out of many more places than most women have to deal with (at least in their 20s). Her body tended toward stocky and her breasts looked like what you'd expect on an overweight guy. [Speaking here as an overweight guy. 😉]

She was an engineer who worked at the local Navy shipyard on nuclear submarines, so her work environment was highly male. She fit in as "one of the guys," to the point of hearing sexist jokes (or "jokes" 🙄) about women working at the shipyard (some of which I heard about when she asked to have them explained at home).

Tish had the softest heart of anyone I’ve known. She would defend our junior cat (who admittedly was NOT overly bright) when her girlfriend (my ex-wife) made disparaging comments. ["LINDA! Don't use words that hurt!" Linda would point out that the cat didn't understand. "STILL! Be nice!"] She gave everyone the benefit of the doubt and believed people (and certain cats) were basically good.

If she owned any skirts or dresses I never saw one, nor any purses. Her hair was short and trimmed to be out of the way. She was self-conscious about her facial hair, and Linda paid for electrolysis treatment for her birthday.

Since Tish and Linda had jobs, I was the house husband most of the time — cooking, cleaning, taking care of the cats. I'm not sure how the division of household labor went after I left, but Linda was the better cook and Tish was the better DIY household type.

When I was depressed about being unemployed (as my "just until you get on your feet, Jack" stay in the guest room after our divorce turned into a total of nine months) I could count on Tish to be the one to try to cheer me up or be sad with me. (Linda could handle some sadness on my part, but my full depressive episodes usually annoyed her. A lot.) Tish was sad to see me go when I finally found a job.

She gave the best hugs.

Sorry, Natalie, long ramble — not sure if I had a point here or not, other than your story made me think about Tish for the first time in a long time. 😊