Thursday November 16, I had to work 11-7. I wasn't feeling right- my nose was a little stuffy, and I felt run down. The holiday rush is upon us, and the customers were getting nastier. I was literally dreading going into work.
I'd injected my estrogen that morning, which, along with the spironolactone, meant I'd have to use the restroom a bit more frequently that day. That's usually not a big deal- I make sure I have coverage, slip away, do what's necessary, and come back. And yes, I wash my hands.
Around twenty after 11, I had to use the ladies room. At that point, I was working at the information desk, and a manager was there, so I went. The ladies room at the bookstore has four stalls in an L shape lining the right side, with the first bordering a wall, and the fourth being an "accessible" stall. The door to the second stall was closed, so I went to the first. (There is no "law of urinals" in the ladies room.)
I was wearing my red "Minnie Mouse" dress.
I finished doing what needed doing, sorted myself out, and stood. I saw a head slowly lowering over the wall of the stall. Someone in the next stall had been watching me. African American with close cropped hair. As we have many African American who frequent our store with close cropped hair, I assumed the person was a woman.
My first thought was "were they trying to see what I had down there- to see if I'm a guy?" I was stunned into silence.
I left the stall and washed my hands. I was in a daze. I went back to see who it was- no one was in the second stall now, but there was someone in the fourth stall... and they were looking through the crack in the door at me. I glared at them, turned and left.
Now, a lot of people talk trash, and say things like "if that happened to me, I would've kicked that person's ass!" or something. Before I "rediscovered" myself, I was a fairly violent person. I figure I was perfectly capable of kicking this person's ass- but...
But I was completely stunned into inaction.
My next thought was that, as that person is a customer, and I've had it drilled into my head, time and time again that there is NOTHING I can do to customers who abuse me for being trans, that tied my hands further.
I sought out the manager, and told her what happened. I mentioned that this person was still in the restroom. I asked if I could confront this person. I was told I could not- that the "moment had passed." I went back in anyway, and saw that the 4th stall was still occupied (and I knew no one had left.)
Did they not hear what I said? There was a predator in there!
Badly shaken, I went back to work.
Maybe twenty minutes later, I was on the cash registers. I saw a different manager walking next to a swiftly walking African American male- late teens/ early twenties. I recognized his head and hair- HE had been the one watching me. I heard the manager tell him he was banned from the store.
That's all I SAW in this situation. I went to the information desk, where the head manager was gathering information about whatever happened with that guy. I told her what happened to me.
From here on, it becomes what I'm TOLD. I'm TOLD that the guy looked in on someone else, and that person cursed him out. that he was allegedly "special needs." That his pants were off when he was confronted. That after I'd first reported what happened, the manager on duty checked the ladies room, and said she smelled something funny, which she assumed to be vomit.
I cannot verify what I was TOLD. Only what I saw.
I was very shaken. Someone else had been victimized- due to my inaction. Had I sorted this person out, no one else would've been hurt.
In addition to feeling violated- to feeling targeted because I'm trans (turns out that's not why he was looking, but that's how I felt at the time.) I felt guilty as hell.
After a couple of hours, I spoke to the store manager about how I felt, and how I felt guilty. She told me it wasn't my fault. Told me that the person had been told to wait by the information desk for the store manager to speak to him, but, not being stupid, he bolted. The other manager followed. That's what I saw.
That the person was "special needs" and didn't know what he was doing.
My hands were shaking badly. I was on the verge of emotional collapse. The store manager asked me if I wanted to go home. And I did.
I called Wife on the way and told her what happened. She asked if the store had called the police. I said I didn't know. She insisted that I do so. And when I got back to the apartment, I did. I called the police and reported what happened.
They said they'd get back to me. A week later, they still haven't.
RIght. It's been a week, and I'm still a little rattled. By what happened. By what happened after. By my (lack of) response. I am absolutely petrified of going into work now. I wonder what is the next indignity I'll suffer. And when I go to the ladies room, I keep watching all around me- waiting for the next predator.
Before transition, I never worried about things like using a public restroom. Now, I do. I never worried for my safety- trusting in my own strength and skill. Now, I do.
Is this what Womanhood means? Fear?
Do I need to arm myself just to go potty?
And the part that I've been brooding over is that I felt helpless to do ANYTHING, because I was afraid for my job. Because I thought this person was doing it because I'm trans. That in some way, society would say I DESERVED it for being who I am.
And that was WRONG that my thoughts went that way. That those thoughts even crossed my mind.
I'm Tired of the Fear. I'm Tired of the Hate.
I'm Tired of having to fight Every Day just to be who I am.
Yet here I am.
Be Well.
I'd injected my estrogen that morning, which, along with the spironolactone, meant I'd have to use the restroom a bit more frequently that day. That's usually not a big deal- I make sure I have coverage, slip away, do what's necessary, and come back. And yes, I wash my hands.
Around twenty after 11, I had to use the ladies room. At that point, I was working at the information desk, and a manager was there, so I went. The ladies room at the bookstore has four stalls in an L shape lining the right side, with the first bordering a wall, and the fourth being an "accessible" stall. The door to the second stall was closed, so I went to the first. (There is no "law of urinals" in the ladies room.)
I was wearing my red "Minnie Mouse" dress.
The dress, as worn last February
I finished doing what needed doing, sorted myself out, and stood. I saw a head slowly lowering over the wall of the stall. Someone in the next stall had been watching me. African American with close cropped hair. As we have many African American who frequent our store with close cropped hair, I assumed the person was a woman.
My first thought was "were they trying to see what I had down there- to see if I'm a guy?" I was stunned into silence.
I left the stall and washed my hands. I was in a daze. I went back to see who it was- no one was in the second stall now, but there was someone in the fourth stall... and they were looking through the crack in the door at me. I glared at them, turned and left.
Now, a lot of people talk trash, and say things like "if that happened to me, I would've kicked that person's ass!" or something. Before I "rediscovered" myself, I was a fairly violent person. I figure I was perfectly capable of kicking this person's ass- but...
But I was completely stunned into inaction.
My next thought was that, as that person is a customer, and I've had it drilled into my head, time and time again that there is NOTHING I can do to customers who abuse me for being trans, that tied my hands further.
I sought out the manager, and told her what happened. I mentioned that this person was still in the restroom. I asked if I could confront this person. I was told I could not- that the "moment had passed." I went back in anyway, and saw that the 4th stall was still occupied (and I knew no one had left.)
Did they not hear what I said? There was a predator in there!
Badly shaken, I went back to work.
Maybe twenty minutes later, I was on the cash registers. I saw a different manager walking next to a swiftly walking African American male- late teens/ early twenties. I recognized his head and hair- HE had been the one watching me. I heard the manager tell him he was banned from the store.
That's all I SAW in this situation. I went to the information desk, where the head manager was gathering information about whatever happened with that guy. I told her what happened to me.
From here on, it becomes what I'm TOLD. I'm TOLD that the guy looked in on someone else, and that person cursed him out. that he was allegedly "special needs." That his pants were off when he was confronted. That after I'd first reported what happened, the manager on duty checked the ladies room, and said she smelled something funny, which she assumed to be vomit.
I cannot verify what I was TOLD. Only what I saw.
I was very shaken. Someone else had been victimized- due to my inaction. Had I sorted this person out, no one else would've been hurt.
In addition to feeling violated- to feeling targeted because I'm trans (turns out that's not why he was looking, but that's how I felt at the time.) I felt guilty as hell.
After a couple of hours, I spoke to the store manager about how I felt, and how I felt guilty. She told me it wasn't my fault. Told me that the person had been told to wait by the information desk for the store manager to speak to him, but, not being stupid, he bolted. The other manager followed. That's what I saw.
That the person was "special needs" and didn't know what he was doing.
My hands were shaking badly. I was on the verge of emotional collapse. The store manager asked me if I wanted to go home. And I did.
I called Wife on the way and told her what happened. She asked if the store had called the police. I said I didn't know. She insisted that I do so. And when I got back to the apartment, I did. I called the police and reported what happened.
They said they'd get back to me. A week later, they still haven't.
RIght. It's been a week, and I'm still a little rattled. By what happened. By what happened after. By my (lack of) response. I am absolutely petrified of going into work now. I wonder what is the next indignity I'll suffer. And when I go to the ladies room, I keep watching all around me- waiting for the next predator.
Get a good look. Why not? I deserve it!
Before transition, I never worried about things like using a public restroom. Now, I do. I never worried for my safety- trusting in my own strength and skill. Now, I do.
Is this what Womanhood means? Fear?
Do I need to arm myself just to go potty?
And the part that I've been brooding over is that I felt helpless to do ANYTHING, because I was afraid for my job. Because I thought this person was doing it because I'm trans. That in some way, society would say I DESERVED it for being who I am.
And that was WRONG that my thoughts went that way. That those thoughts even crossed my mind.
I'm Tired of the Fear. I'm Tired of the Hate.
I'm Tired of having to fight Every Day just to be who I am.
Yet here I am.
Be Well.
From what I hear here you are in no way at fault, maybe your management are, for not acting promptly, for not supporting you, for not reporting the incident to the Police, but mostly for not supporting you, and making you feel a valued member of their team.
ReplyDeleteI do fear that fear and vulnerability are part of the female condition, I used to hear my Wife, Daughter and female friends talk about this, but never really understood until my transition. Now I find I am constantly aware of my vulnerability.
Sophie -
ReplyDeleteYou have entered another part of womanhood - fear of predators. This is why (I feel) that some ciswomen fear us. They don't know how to deal with us in the primitive part of their brains.
But back to the issue.
I'm not sure of what your store manager could legally have done, save for calling the police. The incident was over at that point. But, once the second person complained and that troublemaker was still in the store, then the police should have been called ASAP.
Using the label "Special Needs" to excuse this piece of human garbage is inexcusable. A sexual predator is a sexual predator, no matter how mentally challenged this person is, and should be put away before he does harm to others.
You did nothing wrong. If this person shows up again, keep an eye on this piece of trash and report him to the appropriate authorities the minute you see him do something wrong.
M