Thursday, September 20, 2018

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. 


  1. What a terrible ordeal, and then such a wonderful (and therapeutic) ending

  2. The ending is indeed wonderful. The lead-up is appalling.

  3. Such a great ending, Julie.