The Never-Ending Bathroom Debate

[chefhmboyrd]

i am fortunate to look like i do. i just go where i fuck well please and do what the hell i want and nobody says shit to me.
i TOLD the people at the gym that i would be using the men's locker room.
i haven't used a women's facilty for years, even before the T, because i would get funny looks, and i have never even gotten a second glance in a men's room, except at Play, and he was definitely cruising me.

@

[Jet]

Originally Posted by chefhmboyrd

i am fortunate to look like i do. i just go where i fuck well please and do what the hell i want and nobody says shit to me.
i TOLD the people at the gym that i would be using the men's locker room.
i haven't used a women's facilty for years, even before the T, because i would get funny looks, and i have never even gotten a second glance in a men's room, except at Play, and he was definitely cruising me.

@

sure as hell sounds like you're real tough.

[The_Lady_Snow]

Why Bathrooms Are a Civil Rights Issue



http://www.huffingtonpost.com/carlos..._b_707376.html

[Mike]

http://transgenderlawcenter.org/pdf/...ce%20Guide.pdf

[ravfem]

A short snippet from the TLC Restroom Resource Guide Mike posted:

Strategy #2: Confidence
Using gender segregated bathrooms may be nerve-wracking at times but it is important that you realize you have a right to be there, no ma􀄴er how other people react to you. You belong in the bathroom that makes you feel most comfortable as much as anyone else does. Being confident lets other people know that as well.
If you are feeling nervous when entering a bathroom, take a deep breath and remind yourself that there’s nothing wrong with you and that you have the right to be there as much as anyone else does. If necessary, keep taking deep breaths and repeat the phrase, “I belong here” in your mind while you are in
the bathroom.

[MrSunshine]

Originally Posted by ravfem

A short snippet from the TLC Restroom Resource Guide Mike posted:

Strategy #2: Confidence
Using gender segregated bathrooms may be nerve-wracking at times but it is important that you realize you have a right to be there, no ma􀄴er how other people react to you. You belong in the bathroom that makes you feel most comfortable as much as anyone else does. Being confident lets other people know that as well.
If you are feeling nervous when entering a bathroom, take a deep breath and remind yourself that there’s nothing wrong with you and that you have the right to be there as much as anyone else does. If necessary, keep taking deep breaths and repeat the phrase, “I belong here” in your mind while you are in
the bathroom.

There are parts of this I really do like. However, have you ever tried walking into a bathroom with hardly any hair/masculine features/non shaved legs if in shorts etc...?
I could have (which I thankfully do not) a big O flappin vagina hangin out and still catch shit. (okay, that didn't sound right) Not just from women but from men who may be waiting outside for their daughters.
The last time this happened an elderly woman gasp and said "you are in the wrong place"! I simply told her "I've been touching this thing for 45 years, I know where I belong" she winked, apologized and kept steppin.
The man was stupid enough to put his hand on me as if to stop me. He may or may not recover that testicle.

[ravfem]

Well, since i only shave my legs on Saturdays, does that count as "non-shaved legs"?

Seriously, i've never had to face any sort of bathroom issue personally. my previous relationships have been with masculine butches and a transguy, so i have seen what they go through on a daily basis.

i promise i wasn't trying to tell people how to behave or anything of that sort. i just thought that the guide was very well written, and this particular point stood out.

(and um...i'm kinda glad you don't have *anything* hanging out...i'd have to laugh if ya did!)

Originally Posted by MrSunshine

There are parts of this I really do like. However, have you ever tried walking into a bathroom with hardly any hair/masculine features/non shaved legs if in shorts etc...?
I could have (which I thankfully do not) a big O flappin vagina hangin out and still catch shit. (okay, that didn't sound right) Not just from women but from men who may be waiting outside for their daughters.
The last time this happened an elderly woman gasp and said "you are in the wrong place"! I simply told her "I've been touching this thing for 45 years, I know where I belong" she winked, apologized and kept steppin.
The man was stupid enough to put his hand on me as if to stop me. He may or may not recover that testicle.

[MysticOceansFL]

The only thing I can think of is when your in trans as in waiting to go through the operation there should be change of Driver's lic's stating that your male if your FTM and a woman if your MTF because it would be less bother somes for people who are trans why doesnt the system help out? Its not hurting anyone and second some places should have unisex bathrooms just for that reason and not leave anyone out! Just an idea!

[Nat]

A good friend of mine, Blake, gave me permission to re-post his writing here. It's a familiar story within this community, and well-written/well-told. Bonus: When I asked for that permission, he not only agreed but he checked out the site and decided to join.

Anyway, here it is:

The Wrong Bathroom

On Tuesday afternoon, I carried a bladder full to capacity all the way across campus.
Every out of the way restroom door I might have breezed through in various buildings along the way seemed to be plagued with an interchangeable gaggle of young women– lingering, laughing together, blocking the way in their jeggings, oversized hoodies and Ugg boots. It didn’t matter because I had a purpose, one that led me seemingly on its own accord to a building where I knew I could work in silence for hours on end. And my head was full, its wheels turning in motion only to the massive assigned project at hand; the soundtrack of this was the aural confection of New Order; I felt so extraordinary, something had a hold of me; and this in combination seemed to outweigh my full, weighty bladder.

I often wait until it’s unbearable. Going to the bathroom is quite a chore.

I’d finally made it to the quiet building when it was a force I could no longer ignore. I did as I always do, looked at the floor and swiftly pushed through the door, continued to look at the floor, only at the floor, and found the nearest stall, earphones still pulsing loud with the full wonders of the synthesizer. To my great relief, it seemed I was all alone in the bathroom. I wouldn’t have to wait for some woman to take all the time in the world washing her hands and checking herself in the mirror to wash my own hands and get the hell out. I wouldn’t get the timing wrong and cause some poor girl to jump at the sight of me. No one came in the whole time. I almost felt comfortable. I washed my hands all alone in the vast bathroom with its long row of stalls. I even had time to check myself in the mirror and turned off my mp3 player because now that that great concern was over with, it was time to get to work on my project.

I pushed my way through the door and was met face to face with a maintenance man carrying a gigantic walkie-talkie. I stood arrested, not only because he was blocking my way, but because it was so unexpected. This gave him a few seconds to examine me, turn his head to the right, and shout to a woman across the great expanse of the building, “(Woman’s wholly unmemorable name), it’s not what you think!” as he stepped back and let me pass. “You can never be too sure!” shouted the woman in response. Neither one of them addressed me directly at all.

I was left to figure out what had just happened, which of course was realized immediately. And what’s funny is I didn’t have the shame to leave the building. I went specifically to that building to do my work because it was an ideal place to do so. And I wasn’t going to leave just because something embarrassing had just happened.

I couldn’t have sat in a more visible place either. I was right out in the open with my laptop open and books spread out all over the table. Right out in the open for the same maintenance man to walk by and smirk at several times during my lengthy stay and none of this caused me the slightest inkling of shame. I just thought it was funny.

I giggled to myself internally about it all afternoon. Especially that “it’s not what you think!” business. I know he meant that the circumstance was not what she thought. “It” was not why she ordered that he barricade the door with his leathery, broad-shouldered brawn. But it was, essentially, also the person. “It” was me; I was the circumstance; I am an “it”.

But also, the thought that a big man, by the looks of it the biggest at hand, would have to block the entrance, to protect women from a supposed rapist madman, this was all particularly funny. What did they think would happen? I could have laughed about it for days.

This wasn’t the first time a blockade has been set up on campus, an effort to protect women from entering a bathroom I’d walked into quickly devised. My first semester, I attempted to leave another similarly barren bathroom and realized with the swing of the door I’d pushed several large garbage cans out of my way. And then I saw the line of young women waiting to use the bathroom who were all laughing at me as I walked past the professor who without a doubt had instituted the whole charade. I looked down and continued to walk as she shouted helplessly, “Stop right there! I can see you! I know what you look like!” and the laughter grew louder. Unfortunately I was only traveling less than a hundred feet away to my next class and clearly entered that door, a door to an auditorium-style room, where more than 200 students attended. This was the same class that all of the women forced to wait in line would certainly also travel to after being permitted to simply use the bathroom.

I took my usual seat in the very back left corner and wondered if I was in trouble, if someone was going to come find me and drag me from the room. And I also imagined that professor hauling all of those garbage cans from various points in the hall in front of the door. What an endeavor. And so fast! And she must have told all of those waiting girls that there was a rapist madman inside and they had to wait. Why hadn’t I heard all of that commotion? All I wanted to do was pee.

I have been giving a lot of thought to errors in my thinking. Errors that seem so clear when they are discovered, but that have gone on for so long I no longer recognize them as dense gauze over my perception. My therapist has done wonders for hacking through it.

I mentioned to him that a woman I have collaborated with on several group projects said she’d tried to find me on Facebook. I dismissed her obvious angling coldly. “It’s under a weird name” I said quickly and then changed the subject. I know this hurt her a bit. Her whole mood became less friendly and I caused that. And my reason was because she would look through my photos, my weird posts, and it was all so uncomfortably transparent. I was not ready to share that with someone I barely knew, who I will have to continue to work with. “But…” my therapist stopped me, “She interacts with you daily. And I have news for you, Blake. You are not hiding anything. She knows who you are just by looking at you. And she accepts it. Wanting to extend her friendship to you in that way was a way of saying she accepts you and is curious to know more about you.”

Why should I have a full blown epiphany at a statement like that? It makes so much goddamned sense.

And the same phenomenon extends with public bathrooms. Obviously I cause problems in the women’s room. The reason I still use them is because of the small population of students and professors who know my given name and know I am female. If I used the men’s room and someone knew I was not technically male, then what would happen? And then I realize I have already seen close to the worst of what can happen, save physical violence Thank God, if you use the wrong bathroom.