Okay. So. I have been around several tr*ns people recently, men and women. And I have been so respectful and empathetic towards them. I even use their preferred pr*nouns in my own head, because hell, what does it matter if that's what they want, I hate the concept but it's their life and they're not hurting anyone.
Then I met this person at a party the other night, having been told beforehand that they are a man who goes by 'she/th*y'. Okay. Look. None of my business. Fine. I meet them.
They're wearing a plain clingy dress. And the outline of their penis is on full display. Like, when you're looking them in the eyes talking to them it's in your peripheral vision. The dress has nothing about it that would draw your eye away / distract you from this bulge. It juts out of their body. It's genuinely the wildest thing I've ever seen at a social gathering.
And at first I felt sorry for them. Like, oh, they must not have realised, how embarrassing. And I let that pity displace my actual first instinctive reaction, which was discomfort. And over the last few days that discomfort has grown more and more, and become, frankly, anger.
Because they must have realised. They'd have seen it if they'd just glanced down at themselves. And I refuse to believe that was the only 'girly' item of clothing they owned, if they're presenting as 'female' in life. They have a job. There's no way.
So they chose to wear that dress, knowing it put their penis on display like that.
But it's not a fetish. And it's not entitlement. And I'm not allowed to say what I saw to anyone, because they'll think I'm tr*nsphobic. I'm not allowed to express discomfort. I am, to put it bluntly, to reject the evidence of my eyes and ears. Okay. Okay. Cool cool cool.










