I have to get this off my chest, so to speak.
I am trying to figure out this divorce paperwork and am stuck on a few things. So I finally got up at zero-dark-thirty (yes, me) to see a free facilitator downtown.
I guess they had someone on vacation for the holiday week because there was only one facilitator available. So I was there from opening till midafternoon. That was bad enough.
The worst part was that there was no privacy. The facilitator doesn't take you into a cubicle or an office. She comes right out to you and talks to you in front of whoever happens to be sitting around.
Things were weird from the get-go. She kept asking me who this <partner's name> was. I said, "That's the person I'm married to. It's the person I'm divorcing." She was fine with that, but of course she referred to him with male pronouns, and heads began to swivel. A couple of conversations stopped, and folks started listening in. A few people were glaring at me every time I looked up.
I haven't been read as a woman in almost a year, so I'm pretty sure they were hostile because they think I'm a flaming homo, not because they think I'm some kind of freaky woman.
At least, I was praying that they were thinking that. Because it's the truth. But I hate feeling like a bug under glass.
I kind of wish I had had the guts to say, "That's right, I'm a MAN married to another MAN. You got a problem with that?"
Nope. Too much of a scaredy-cat. And maybe they had those expressions on their faces because they had too many Chicken McNuggets for lunch. But I don't think so. If that had been the case, those people would have looked away every time I held their gaze. They didn't.
I am mindful that a lot of trans women go through this every day when they are early in transition. And that a number of my gay friends are so obvious that they probably get the same treatment on a regular basis. Ouch.
