Last week was a strange week for this crossdresser, with highs and lows. I am always very careful about going out dressed femme, and I had not had any problems. Oh, sometimes I could see people reading me, and sometimes I would hear, after I had passed, "that's a man." Sometimes someone would say "sir," but really it wasn't a problem. Mostly I could blend in fine so that no one paid much attention, and when I had contact with most people it just wasn't an issue. Often I would be addressed as "ma'am," and it felt good. I'd gotten pretty confident. I'm always careful about where I go, and have never felt unsafe. Well, you can tell, something is coming up.
Wednesday I went to a meeting, the fifth so far, with my gender therapist. She has only ever seen me as Michaella, and is very supportive. So again I was dressed, and I thought I looked pretty good, in a lightweight silk summer dress, with heels, make-up, jewellery, nails done. I was walking to the train that I would take downtown to the meeting, and a car went by me on the other side of the street, slowed down, and the driver, a middle-aged male, called over and said with a huge smile, "on a hot summer day, you look exquisite!" I smiled and said thank you, and he drove off. I didn't feel threatened or unsafe in any way. Now I don't know if he read me or not, and I didn't really care. It felt great one way or the other!
We had a good meeting. Amazing I found myself wondering about transitioning and what that might mean. It's mostly a thought experiment to see what I really feel about my gender issues, rather than a real intention. But yet . . .
After that I went to a movie, and all went well. The woman taking my ticket said "oh, back again!" becuase I had indeed been there, en femme, on the weekend.
Saturday I had some errands to run, getting keys copied at the hardware store, dropping off shoes for repair, and I decided I would spend the full weekend dressed. I wore a light silk long summer skirt and a silk over-sized shirt, belted at the waist, and flats. Ran the errands, no problem in either place, though I'm sure my voice gives me away. Also browsed in a consignment shop and a music store. Nobody paid any attention to me.
Next I went to get groceries. Now I had shopped for groceries en femme a number of times before, in several places, including this one, an ordinary supermarket, and it had never been an issue. So I'm just walking around, putting things in my cart. I turn a corner to pick up some cider, and a woman comes up to me, says something that I could not make out, and splashes a full bottle of mango juice in my face. I'm astonished, not hurt, but completely surprised. She then turns to the other customers and the staff around and yells out "he tried to rape me." Madness. The nearest staff person called for security right away. The crazy woman walks away and the security man goes after her. The staff person explains "she just threw that juice at her, no reason." Customers just seemed to want to avoid the whole thing. The staff made sure the crazy woman left and did not come back in. I could hear her ranting and raving, couldn't make any sense of it, lots of profanity. The staff asked me if I was okay, if I needed help. I was able to clean up some and I went back to shopping. Maybe I should have asked for police to come, maybe I should have insisted charges be laid, but I didn't want to create any more issues. Who knows, maybe she would have insisted on laying charges against me. So, left it. Went home and cleaned up.
What troubled me was that in a place where I thought I was safe this could happen. Clearly this woman was unstable. And that's the problem. The mentally ill often have no inhibitions, nothing to stop them from acting on impulse, on whim, on emotional reaction, unrestrained by social norms of at least politeness if nothing else. I wasn't harmed at all, but suppose she had been armed? There have been accounts of mentally ill people in this city attacking others for no apparent reason. She obviously thought she had a reason. And no reason not to. It gave me much pause for thought.
But, get right back on the horse, right? So the next day I decided I would do what I had planned to do, and that was to go downtown and see a movie, and go presenting as a woman. (Loose Indian top over leggings, flats, full make-up, nail polish etc. I thought I looked fine.) I got downtown early and went into a couple of shop, in the Chinatown area. In one I saw a scarf I liked. To buy it I had to talk some with a couple of staff, and they were both very nice, the young woman smiling nicely and being very helpful, the young man pleasantly addressing me as "ma'am." And going to the movie was fine. But at the train station there was a young man standing on the stairs doing one of those loud non-stop incoherent rants about anything and everything. And as I got closer -- not too close -- he kept on ranting and I heard him say " . . . I know you're a man I can tell just by looking . . . " without missing a beat and while staring at me. It was very creepy. Nothing happened to me, but a second encounter in two days with a clearly unstable person was worrisome. Might he have rapidly become a threat?
Frankly I see a lot of very scary people around here. I've always been very careful about where I go when I'm dressed femme, but these were places I had been to many times before and I had felt very confident that I was safe. The complete unpredicatability of it all is what is so troubling.
So now I have to wonder if I should ever go out dressed again. And that changes everything.
Thank you for listening.
Michaella