I’m at a friend’s party, enjoying the eardrum pounding beats and loving the breeze and clouds ensuring I don’t get a heat stroke. I think there are 3 people who know my medical history, out of the two-dozen people with whom I am acquainted within a crowd of a few hundreds. I don’t put any thought into it beyond that, I’m there to have a good time. Why would transition factor in? I buy a woman a drink and make a few new friends along the way.
Eventually nature calls, I b-line for a stall feeling relief that the music makes it impossible for others to hear me taking toilet paper (a mild source of anxiety for me, not uncommon for pre-op trans guys.) Half way through my wiz, this guy manages to open the stall door even though I had locked it as best as I could. Insofar as I can tell, he doesn’t see my genitals, rather closing the door quickly. He then makes deliberately loud comments that it is wrong to take a dump in a club’s washroom. I purposely wait until he leaves the washroom to exit the stall and wash my hands.
I cannot wait for u hook-up. I will not miss this anxiety.
Back to the party, I put my issues with my body on the back burner and resume the enjoyment of the music and company. I meet a friend’s partner. He seems nice enough, I’m happy for her. He seems to similarly judge me as largely insignificant in his life but kind nonetheless. Some of our friends have a few moments of drama; we end up in different rooms not seeing each other for a few hours.
By the time we run into each other again, he’s looking at me differently. I misread it as him being hammered and ignore his gaze. He strikes a conversation about music and foolish dance moves; I’m mellow, enjoying the casual nature of small talk. Suddenly he says “since you brought it up, can I ask you about it?” I’m confused. “What was is like?” huh… now he’s lost me. “You know, the change.” I figure he means my sex change but I am not certain since I hadn’t told him or brought up anything LBGT related. He let me know that all 3 people at the party who know my medical history told him. In fact, 2 of them had told him a while back, he had looked forward to meeting me. He took a while to realize I was “that person” when he met me.
READ: he expected a lady with a beard or an androgynous.
I kindly explain that the point of a sex change is the changing of one’s sex hence I look like the guy I am. It goes right over his head. He asks me twenty more questions. I don’t answer them. “You seem uncomfortable. I was told you were proud of who you are.”
I pretend that isn’t offensive.
I calmly explain that it is not something I care to have people know and that there are about 20 people nearby in particular to whom I want to remain stealth. He “informs” me that had no one told him, he wouldn’t have known (news flash: duh!) Again I explain that I am not ashamed, but it is not something that I want others around to know; I’m here to boogie.
He says he understands, respects me. And asks me more questions. Notably, he asks me what’s in my pants and can I have kids. I lie to spare myself more of this shit and get lost.
One of my friends who told him my medical history comes up and asks why I look upset. I explain the awkward conversation foisted upon me. “You’re such a smart guy with broad interests, why do you talk about it so much?”
I leave the place all together.
