I am traveling to Ohio next week, and I'm worried about peeing.
If you're alive, you pee. It's that simple. Some people stand, some sit. It's an undeniable biological function. For many millennia, people everywhere have thought about and developed ways to deal with this fact. In our culture, we have a unique pieces of furniture known as a toilets and urinals which allow for us to urinate in a sanitary way. Such furniture pieces are found in rooms called bathrooms.
I used to stand to urinate, but now I sit. This, in and of itself, is of no consequence to any one but me. It's the 'where'? that causes all sorts of consternation. As a trans woman, I feel that the appropriate place for me to do "my business" in public is the women's room. I stopped using the men's room in June, when the discomfort I felt became prohibitive. It also coincides with the moment that I began to live full-time as a woman.
It's hard to describe the unease I began to feel when using the men's room. To the outside world, I looked like a cis male, and the men's room is where cis men pee. I looked like I belonged, and really, it's not like you hang out in there: You're in, you pee, wash and dry hands, you're out. But as my gender identity began to crystalize I developed a vague, but persistent unease that I didn't belong in there. Perhaps that's not a coincidence. Hmmm.
Nope. Not even close.
While I am at peace with the fact that I am a (trans) woman, I am still very leery about using the women's room in public. I've made myself uncomfortable many times while in public because a particular women's room is super busy. (I sat on an uncomfortable bladder all throughout Hamilton last Saturday, because the thought of the marathon long women's room line was too frightening). Part of that's on me. I'm nervous about a confrontation, and I don't want to cause a scene. But, I'm also sensitive to the fact that my presence in the women's room might cause (cis) women unease, and that's the last thing I want to do.
I believe that society is, for the most important, embracing the reality of trans people, but that change is slow. I know that Minnesota state statute supports my presence in the women's room, but I am sensitive as to how my physical appearance could be unsettling within the confines of the women's restroom. At this point, no one looks at me and thinks I'm a cis woman. I still look like a dude that is trying to look like a woman. (I wish it weren't true, and it's painful to admit, but it's a fact). And though there are many women who would take my presence in stride (if they noticed me at all), I'm sure there are some who would feel ill at ease.
So mostly, I scope out single seaters, or lightly traveled bathrooms. There've been a few times when mother nature was so persistent that I used a crowded restroom. I have yet to have anyone say "get out of here!", "you don't belong!", or "I'm getting the police!". Perhaps I should embrace the notion that nothing has happened, because, in my mind, I make it a bigger deal than it really is. I'll work on that.
Anyway, I'm driving to Ohio next week. I'm fairly certain that at some point I'll need to pee. I quite fearful of what could happen when I reach central Illinois, Indiana, and central Ohio. Those places are not known for embracing cutting edge social change. I'll not be dressed as for an appearance on "Ru Paul's Drag Race", but neither will I betray myself by putting on a "boy" costume for the trip. I did that in June, and it totally sucked. Maybe I'll wear a diaper. Seriously.
And that's where I'll stop. I usually have a concluding point to make, but not this time. I'm genuinely fearful. I hope I am able to write about my surprise at being accepted by folks, (or just ignored), upon my return. We'll see.
No comments:
Post a Comment