So, just to set this all up, I'm still in the closet about my gender identity. I'm still living as a man, and yet, all my life, even as the supposed cis-gender male everyone thinks I am, I still had to worry about bathroom harassment. From as early as grade school, I was constantly abused and harassed in bathrooms, simply because I chose to use a stall. I did so for various reasons. One, because I was uncomfortable using a urinal and constantly noticing that the other boys were trying to look at my penis. Like, not in a sexual way, I think (it was grade school, after all), but it just felt weird. Two, I was very self-conscious about my penis because I was born with hypospadias, which is basically when your urethra is underneath the shaft, instead of on the tip. I had it surgically repaired as a kid, but unfortunately, every few years, my urethra will close up, and I have to get it reopened, which means I've had repeated surgeries on my genitals. This leads to the third reason I'd go in the stalls - all that work done makes it difficult and uncomfortable to go standing up, and even harder to control the direction of the stream. It basically means that I have to go sitting down, even with male genitalia. Needless to say, "boys will be boys" and they'd be constantly jumping the stalls, kicking in the doors, and doing everything they could to harass me, simply because I went "like a girl". I'd constantly go to teachers and any higher up that'd listen, just for them all to react the same way - complete indifference. "Oh well, boys will be boys". I can look back on all of that now and call it exactly what it was - sexual harassment. But I'll likely still get those indifferent shrugs.
The thing is, I, even now, even living in the closet as a supposed "cis-gender male", public bathrooms are a nightmare for me. For the most part, adults are less intrusive, so I don't have to worry about doors getting kicked in on me, so much, now. Except when it still happens, anyway. A few years ago, at this bar I hang at, where I generally felt safe, some drunk jerk kicked in the stall door as I was going, because he was offended at the fact that someone was going #2, in his mind. As if it was any of his business what I was doing, or he had any right to do it, but everything just flooded. All those years of harassment in school, to the point where I scheduled my entire day around when to go to the bathroom and where so I could either be alone, or left alone, all that anger, fear, frustration flooded, and I just went into shock. Fortunately, the drunk was just drunk and walked off after, and I was just there in a frozen panic, pushing the door back closed and screaming every obscenity I could think of before I could finally collect myself enough to get out. Worse yet, I coulnd't even begin to try to explain to my friends what was wrong once I came out, when they all aksed me what happened and if I was all right. I wasn't anywhere near close, and I tried so much to explain what was wrong, but there's just so much to it. How do you explain to people that you're afraid to go to the bathroom because you spent the first half of your life being taught that everyone else felt entitled to your body in some strange way, and that no one ever bothers to stand up for you when people cross the line. No one cares. You're just "overly sensitive" they say. Some pretend to understand but don't care. Others roll their eyes. And all I want is to be left alone.
One of my biggest fears about pursuing a path towards transition is that, after I trans, is this bathroom issue only going to get WORSE?! I can't even be left alone as a supposed cis-gender "male" in a men's room. How am I ever going to be able to survive as a transgender MTF trying to use a ladies' room? Or, worse yet, if these asinine laws get passed, and I'm forced into the men's room as a trans MTF? Do I have to look forward to having doors kicked in on my on a regular basis for the rest of my adult life? I thought I was past all of that. Hell, that was what I was screaming in between F and S words in that stall the night that drunk kicked that door in on me. Didn't we outgrow this stuff decades ago?
No, apparently we didn't. And that terrifies me.