My Struggle

Sort of an anti-Knausgårdian exercise.  Or not...

Last weekend I went to Provincetown, which is a town on Cape Cod, MA, to play flag football in a women's tournament.  I got hurt by the mostly lesbian players -- at a tournament I have played in for years. The refs let me get beat up, never threw a flag, so much so that I limped off the field after getting hammered into the ground and just left because no one cared if I got hurt. It was incredibly lonely and sad to be in the middle of what was supposed to be a safe place with such palpable trans hate -- including from my own team.

After an afternoon and night of ice, I went into town, which really is pretty.  

I ended up shopping, retail therapy in a jewelry store right? and overheard an (older) man and his sister looking for presents for the man's "friend". The conversation had a certain rhythm which I knew well and finally I broke in and said "Hey excuse me, I'm trans and it's ok if you are buying some nice things for yourself. You don't need a friend." ("friend" in airquotes) 

The "sister" (wife?) looked a little surprised. He looked stunningly relieved. We chatted for a minute, nothing too heavy, they turned to finish their purchases and I looked around.

They left and I went up to the salesperson with my earrings. She was smiling. "They were paid for," she said and nodded out the door. The man had paid for my earrings.