My Number One Problem

This feels like a ridiculous thing to be writing about. Figuring out the mechanics of the bathroom seems better suited to a potty training blog for first-time mothers. Nonetheless, here we are. Bear with me, this is surprisingly relevant.

Bathrooms have become the prime public focus on the forefront of trans rights ever since North Carolina passed a bathroom bill in 2016, which compelled schools and public facilities containing single-gender washrooms to only allow people of the corresponding biological sex. Other states over the last few years have passed variants of restrictive bathroom legislation, or come remarkably close to doing so. Although this has obvious infringements on transgender rights, I argue the principal is far more psychologically damaging.

Passing legislation to force a trans person into a bathroom in alignment with their biological sex sends a message the public fear of us outweighs their value of treating us equally. This was not passed in my state, but it shows me how easily it could have been–and that is terrifying. We are all part of a civilization that allowed this to happen. I was pleasantly surprised to see numerous lost sponsorships and businesses resulting from the decision, which ultimately led to its reversal. It pains me the entire state had to suffer for it, but I am glad people were willing to stand up to the injustice.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

 – Martin Luther King Jr.

We have once again entered the issue of bathroom segregation. In an effort to preempt conflict in bathrooms by requiring transgender students to use a different one, they become isolated and targeted. Students of schools in adherence with bathroom bills may be required to use the staff restroom–further aliening them. Efforts to protect fearful citizens from transgender folks often add injury to a struggling demographic. It’s not hard to see why suicide rates for people like me are nearly 50%.

I often find it frustrating how people perceive transgender individuals as mentally ill because of their increased propensity to inflict self harm, or engage in destructive behaviors. It becomes a different issue when discussing how to integrate a disordered person into society versus giving someone equal rights. Like much mental illness in this country, we have a tendency to prefer sweeping it under the rug. Patterns like these are how we get to drafting bills that harm trans people, but receive support because it removes us from their sight.

The reality oft laws like these is it won’t stop the actual threat, but it satiates the public. Legally preventing a trans woman from using the ladies’ room vastly complicates her life, but does nothing to stop a predator aiming to do harm. In fact, she is immensely more likely to be the target of violence if forced to use the men’s room. There are criminals in every demographic, and targeting one specifically out of fear of what might happen is unconstitutional.

The result of bills like this? I am afraid. I am afraid to use restrooms anywhere outside of my home. I am afraid to stop and use a bathroom in an area I am unfamiliar with. I am afraid someone will notice I am trans and start screaming frantically until I am perceived as a sexual predator in the women’s room. I am simply afraid.

I recently visited some family across the country for the holidays. I was out with my aunts and uncles having lunch in an unexpectedly modern sports bar, where there was a television integrated into almost every conceivable surface. As we wrapped up the meal, everyone started heading to the restrooms, as one would naturally do before carrying on with the next activity. My mother noticed I stayed behind. She turned back and grabbed my arm to escort me into the ladies’ room while telling me it would be alright. This was not my first time avoiding a restroom when I needed to go, and it won’t be the last.

I don’t believe anything bad will happen on any given visit, but it is easier to neglect relief than face the chance of an incident. Like many others, I restrict my fluid intake when I’m away from home to reduce the number of bathroom interactions. Additionally, I will wait until I am much more uncomfortable than preferred before I give in and make the trip. I have regrettably gone upwards of 8 hours without a bathroom stop on some occasions.

Are you ready? This is about to get weird.

There are several ridiculous factors making the bathroom stop problematic for me. One of the most unforeseen and difficult challenges is producing noise when I pee. Women don’t have a choice of aim, and always have a steady stream of audio. However, I come with extra equipment. I can be nearly silent while sitting, which causes me to freak the fuck out because it feels like I have exposed myself as a trans woman–especially if I am alone with another person. Therefore, I aim downwards to produce the sound, but it isn’t as sanitary due to the splash. It is an unfortunate trade I hate to make, but the anxiety never fails to force my hand.

Ridiculous? I know…

Then there is the matter of re-situating myself back into my clothes to the best of my ability in hopes to avoid all manners of pinching, pulling, or other discomfort. It takes a little bit of time, and it is an embarrassing thing to have to do. All of this is made easier when I don’t feel like somebody else is in there listening to me. I have spent a significant amount of conscious time figuring out how to navigate bathrooms at my workplace since I have to do so regularly.

I work a standard 8 hour day from 10am-6pm. There are two strategic bathroom stops during my time at the office, which have been deduced via observation. The goal is to never be alone with a single person in the restroom, because that is the most intimate, and therefore unnerving. For context, I work in an office building with roughly 100 people on the floor. All the ladies share a single restroom with 7 stalls.

The time between my arrival (10:00am) and lunch hour (12:00pm) is a fairly open window. Most people live close to work and seem to wait until the lunch hour to relieve themselves. There is an occasional solo pooper in the morning, which is the absolute worst case scenario due to the nervous tension and silence. Therefore, I avoid this slot like the plague. If I absolutely must go, I do it before 11:00am when the chances of running into somebody are slim. I guess coffee takes a little more time to kick in.

Lunch hour is the most populated and consistent use of the restroom. From 12:00-1:00pm there will almost always be at least one person in there, and I will never be one of them. It is worth noting a continuously busy bathroom is actually less stressful because it is very easy to blend in and there is plenty of background noise to help me feel less self-conscious. My favorite bathrooms have some ambient music playing to ease the room. Unfortunately, having a soundtrack with this particular facet of life is rare.

The time from 1:00-1:30pm is a bit of a wildcard, but usually has people trickling in after long lunches, or making an extended visit following a meal. The absolute golden slot in the middle of the day is between 1:30-1:45pm. I cannot recall the last time I met another woman in the bathroom during this magical time. As a result, I almost always make sure I hit this window to have a blissful relief.

I haven’t solidified a reliable pattern for the rest of the afternoon, but given most people go over lunch (12:00-1:00) and have roughly a 2-3 hour bladder capacity, I tend to avoid the restroom between 3:00-4:00pm. If I cannot make it to the end of the workday, I will make another trip just after 4:00. People start heading home around 4:30, and continue to trickle out through 5:30. Many people will stop by the bathrooms on their way out the door, which is just common sense. By 5:30, my coworkers start to depart.

My department (programming) tends to stay a little after 6:00pm, and is comprised entirely of men–excluding myself. I will always hit the bathroom on the way down to my car due to my lengthy commute, and have never crossed paths with another woman. There it is. The most insane part of my life.

I know much of what I have explained sounds irrational, but that is the product of fear. Watching legislators pass laws telling people like me where they can and can’t use a restroom makes me feel unsafe, and it obviously affects my life on a daily basis. Most of my problems in this area will disappear overnight following my sexual reassignment surgery next month, and I cannot wait to be unburdened.

I have a dream to use a public bathroom without fear or discrimination.