Bathrooms Aren't a Safe Place if You're Trans

Bathrooms and locker rooms have always been a problem for me

I'm the brunette, transgender wife.

Bathrooms and locker rooms have always been a problem for me. I always thought they were problems for everyone, I guess. You can’t really have that conversation with your friends at school. “So, I was wondering, does being naked in the locker room make you want to hide?”. Not a chance I was going to have that conversation. Not knowing any differently, I assumed pretty much everyone had issues with bathrooms and locker rooms. It wasn't until years later when I started to realize that this wasn’t the case, that I understood how different I truly am.

I remember how it was back in grade school. Yes, grade school. In fourth grade, I noticed that I didn’t like it when I was in the restroom, and other kids came in. I was a little bit uncomfortable and didn’t know why. If I walked in, and other kids were in there, I would just stand around until they had cleared out, and then do my thing, and leave. If that wasn’t possible, the stalls were my friend, but since there were no doors, that only helped a little. I quickly learned to go during class, rather than between class, because otherwise, I would be late. Also, the bathroom was typically empty during class times. I always was ahead in my classes, so it was easy to get permission during class if I needed to.

The restroom on the fourth and fifth-grade side of the school had these gigantic urinals. They were as tall as I was and went all the way down to the floor. They had an oddly shaped bottom, and you couldn’t stand right up against them. You had to stand back and aim. So, the boys had this thing they did where they tried to trick other boys into seeing their genitals. They seemed to find it hilarious. It just made me feel awkward.

Transgender in Middle School

As I moved on into middle school, this all became much more pronounced. I absolutely hated using the restroom at school or in public. I think the best way to explain it would be that I felt vulnerable, and exposed, and I didn’t like that at all. Older boys in middle school are starting to develop, and are discovering their genitals, and there was a lot of horseplay and foolishness that revolved around this in the bathrooms. I didn’t want to use the boy’s restrooms, but there were no options at all. So that’s what I did because you do what you have to do.

But the worst part, for me, was the bathrooms at the school gym, both in middle school and especially in high school. After the gym, we were required to shower. Failing to shower meant an F for the day, and that adds up fast. I tried to use a washcloth and clean up that way, but naturally, that quickly brought scorn. The teacher started checking to see who actually showered, and I knew I couldn’t keep getting F’s. I knew that I had no choice but to shower.

Thus, I found myself naked in front of an entire room full of guys. I didn’t at all want to be in that room. I didn’t look at anyone, didn’t waste a second, didn’t at all like how I felt. I was embarrassed and ashamed. I felt miserable. That was the first time ever, there in the sixth grade, that I actually wondered what was wrong with me.

I became an expert at lightning fast showers. By that, I mean that at the end of gym class I ran into the bathroom, and was already in the shower when pretty much everyone else was still coming into the bathroom, horse-playing and loudly “preening their feathers”. My gym teachers told my parents that they loved that I was so motivated I even ran off the gym floor into the locker room every day. I told my parents it was the soccer player in me.

The shower had two entrances, one directly from the locker area, and a back way through the restroom stalls. I would shower as fast as possible, in the back of the shower room, and slip out the back way, and get back to my locker while the other boys were just moving as a group into the shower room through the front, horseplaying and loud. I’d be dressed and out of the gym before most of them finished, which was fine with me, because seeing them naked was pretty embarrassing too.

Transgender in High School

As bad as middle school was, high school was much worse. The guys were bigger. They were stronger, more brash, more vocal, louder, more masculine. Everything I wasn’t. Proving you were manly was the thing that was done. But, I knew that wasn't something that worked, for me. Bathrooms visits were at least quicker, since the guys hanging out in the bathrooms only wanted to smoke cigarettes or weed.

However, the showers after gym class my Freshman and Sophomore years were, to say the least, not good. There was one way in, one way out, no partitions to hide behind. I remember one time, I was sitting on a bench in the rows of lockers. I had already showered, and was trying to get dressed and get out of there. I pulled on a sock, picked up a shoe, heard a noise, and looked up. There, totally unexpected, right in front of my face, no more than 18 inches away from me, was an enormous set of male genitals. 

“Oh my God!” I heard myself cry out in shock, as I dropped my shoe. Three guys nearby started laughing. The guy right in front of me, who had simply been moving past, stopped, shook himself in front of my face several times, and moved on. I felt myself turning beet red. Quickly dressing, I was out of there.

If I were in the shower, and a guy came in, I would quickly turn away, trying to not let him see any more of me than possible. On multiple occasions I was laughed at for crossing my arms over my chest. I didn't plan to do it. It was an automatic reaction.

There would be roughly 30 guys, all naked, in the locker room, and me. Testosterone, everywhere. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I didn’t want to be around 3 naked guys in a locker room, let alone 30. I felt alien. I had heard of the concept, but had never really experienced it. I felt alone, in a room full of people. I kept trying to look at their faces, but kept noticing their nakedness, and my own.

I always had to be careful, in the shower. I was curious, and envious. Envious at the easy way they were masculine, simply being themselves, and thus naturally being what I knew I needed to be, but increasingly, failed at. Curious about the bodies, a few of which I found very interesting. But then, there would be an involuntary reaction, and oh my gosh that couldn’t ever be seen! Most of the guys were frankly unattractive to me. So, I would try to shower nearest them, and thus avoid the unthinkable. But goodness, a few of the guys were, um, interesting!

The Joyous Buffet of Negative Feelings

Thus, I got the joyous buffet of negative feelings. Embarrassment, humiliation, shyness, fear, vulnerability. Best of all, I got to ask myself over and over again, what in the world was wrong with me?!?!? Why did I feel like I did? Why did I like what I liked, and dislike what I disliked? Have you ever hated yourself?

I still have massive problems with men's restrooms and locker rooms. I guess some things never change. There's fear. Nervousness. Am I going to be safe? Am I going to be accosted? Have I been in that restroom before? If so, what's the fastest way to go in, get to a stall, get done, and get out?

The reality is that there are those among us who, like me, have to pause for a moment, before entering that bathroom door, and steel themselves against what could happen in that room, before pushing the door open. Every. Single. Time. Something has to change.