Dear Lady in the Women's Washroom

You'll never understand.

Standing outside the bathrooms, debating whether to go in, or hold it.

I hesitate.

With a silent prayer and deep breath, I push open the ladies' restroom door.

As I step in, I am face to face with you.

Your face reddens, your eyes widen, and before I can step out, a blood-curdling scream resonates through the room.

I rush to the nearest stall, determined to get this ordeal over with, my bladder the deciding factor.

I am not deaf.

I hear you and your companions wonder aloud about why "my kind" can't use the other bathroom.

As I hurriedly wash my hands and prepare my leave, you point at the sign, silently signaling that I made the wrong choice.

My anger gets the best of me, as this is not the first time this has happened, this would be the third time this week.

We are one in the same.

Just because I do not dress like you, nor carry myself like you, does not mean we have different, basic human needs.

We all need to piss.

Walking into this one was the lesser of two evils.

I'd rather not stand the smells, and be the subject of their taunts.

Or worse.

So, before you scream at me (again), imagine life in my shoes.

Being ridiculed for not fitting into a binary gender box.

Being denied the right to piss.

Being yelled and threatened at, even beaten in the streets, treated like a second class citizen.

Remind yourself of this lady, as it happens more often than not.

I spend more time standing outside of the bathrooms than you'll ever know.

© 2012 by Kaitlin Glover

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ransmitted in any form or by amy means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission by Kaitlin Glover.