Being an intersexed person can feel awkward in certain public situations. We’ll start out obvious and work from there. In public, which restroom would be more appropriate for me to enter? If I go into a restroom for woman, am I a pervert? If I go into the men’s, I’m potentially a queer cruising, right? Yikes, hurry and find me the “Other” box, please! At airports, I like to go in the “Family” individualized loo, that way, I’m neutral. Oh sure, it’s probably so parents can escort their child, but what the hell!
Wouldn’t it be a hoot to have a restroom titled “Other?” I can only imagine who I might meet in there. Perhaps, Aliens, Demongelics, Reptilians, Wizards, Fairies, Gnomes, Unembodied Spirits, this all works for me! I’m a non-conformist; clearly these are my posse for sure.
I gave up my membership at the gym, and turned a room at home into a space filled with hard and semi-flexible equipment, now who wouldn’t want personal access to that? Seriously, though, I used to go regularly and have seen things in the female locker room that have made me question, why the hell, I’m the one hiding - for sure. I’ve learned to get dressed under my towel quite magically, although my immensely hairy legs could have been a dead giveaway. At times, I could have sworn I’ve heard woman gasp, no I’m certain.
My partner always panics when we walk through customs, worried when they ask, “Have you declared everything.” My response is always, “Well, not everything.” Being frisked at the airport, by a female is most definitely a surprise; I always get the lucky, random ticket. Yes, random is what I tell myself. Get out of my head people.
How about forms, you know the general questions. Are you a male or female? I scream to you from the rooftops, I’m an “Other”, give me my own damn box! I’ve been to an office, where my doctor, could honestly tell you, they never knew. I have an amazing gift. I can find a way to only reveal the exact part of my body; I need you to look at and nothing else. Only last week, I had a nurse call out my name in the waiting room. “Mr. McCallister.” When no other person stood, I assumed it was me.
On-line is also a challenge, if you don’t specify male or female to add yourself to a site, or program, you can’t move forward and get something called, “Error.” I say to my screen, “Yeah, no fucking kidding, error, now what?” I take a deep cleansing breathe and simply decide who I wish to be in that very moment.
Alright, we’ll take it a step deeper and talk about relationships. When women find I’m part male, even if they’re supposedly straight, they’ll automatically begin to flirt. Lesbians seem to want to convert me. Straight men are freaked out or define me as gay. Gay men aren’t usually sure what I am. Bisexual, transgender, queer seem to embrace me most, yet wouldn’t dare ask me a single question.
I had an individual who I’d become quite fond of that I warned, before things went to the next level, “There’s something you don’t know about me.” That person said, “Don’t be afraid, you can tell me anything.” They laughed to lighten the mood saying, “What’s the worst thing you could say, you’re really a man?” At that point, I assumed they had thought I was a female. “I replied, “You’re getting warmer.” It was that night the individual discovered, they were very much bisexual!