i've struggled writing this post. i meant to write it days ago, but it's proving to be more difficult than i anticipated. i'm pretty sure i know why.
sometimes i get made fun of, looked at, whispered about, and called names. it doesn't happen a lot and, honestly, i don't usually mind all that much. the most contentious space for me seems to be washrooms. i have a lot of privilege though - i'm white, i'm able-bodied, i live in a progressive city, and i grew up middle class. equipped with all that privilege, i often walk into a washroom feeling a bit antagonistic, ready to challenge anyone who dares tell me where i do and don't belong.
this may sound strange, but i far prefer outright harassment. if someone takes issue with my gender identity or my sexuality, i want them to come out and say it to my face. when they opt instead to whisper it to their friends or communicate through caustic stares, the onus is on me to confront them if i want to have a dialogue. and this is where our story begins.
last week i went to school early to swim as i often do. typically i go with a couple of friends, but classes are over, so i went on my own. i had finished changing and was about to head to the showers before starting my swim. at this point, a couple women came into the area of the changing room that i was in. immediately upon seeing me, they shared some intense sort of reaction. it was startling. for context, it was about 7:30 in the morning. i was definitely still waking up. it took me a little bit to realize what was going on. however, from the changing rooms to the showers to the lanes to the whirlpool back to the showers and the changing rooms, they were always there. they were always looking at me and whispering and laughing with another friend. they communicated to me with a quickness and sharpness that made me feel judged, humiliated and profoundly uncomfortable.
they never spoke to me. since we never directly interacted, i began to think i was probably paranoid. chances were i was making this up, creating their hostility. but why when i finished a lap were they waiting at the end of the lane glaring at me? why, when i switched lanes, were they still keeping track of my whereabouts? i'd finish a lap and look up to see all three of them from the other end of the pool, staring at me. it was not a friendly stare.
when i finished my swim, they were in the whirlpool. i always go into the whirlpool when i finish. it's the best part! i figured i should skip it though. it would just be the four us. no, that's ridiculous. i would go in and, anyway, i was probably making this situation up. i went into the whirlpool. the energy was so remarkably hostile, that i felt honestly nervous about changing in front of them. i left quickly to get a head start.
i was changing as quickly as i could. they arrived as i was putting on my binder. they laughed at me, and i turned to face the wall. they were clearly good friends, but they kept their towels glued to their bodies and their backs to me as they changed. people were walking around naked, but these women were painstakingly meticulous about not being exposed. of course, it's totally possible that this is always how they changed and that it had nothing to do with me, but it felt very personal.
i was flustered and trying to leave as quickly as possible. i walked out the wrong way on accident and had to turn around and walk past them again. when i passed them, they were talking about me. we all caught eyes for a moment. they looked at me and looked briefly, maybe, embarrassed but it might just have been the shock of being caught in the act. they put their hands over their mouth. i kept walking, and i heard them laugh. i paused and turned to walk back and confront them.
here's the issue: they never said anything to me. they harassed me for an hour. for an entire hour they made me feel like less and less of a person, but they did it so insidiously that there was nothing i could grasp ahold of in order to confront them. i was left with 'feelings' - a sense of hostility. as i stood paused in the hall, ready to go back and start something, i realized how it would go. i would say: do you have a problem? and they would simply say: no. that would be it. what recourse did i really have? what could i really say? would i tell them that i had seen them whispering and pointing? to which i'm sure they would respond with an apology instead of an explanation for what they were 'actually' talking about. it was a no-win situation for me. confronting them would not make me feel better about what had happened, so i left.
i felt horrible though. i took me longer than usual to shake off the interaction. it certainly wasn't the first time i've been harassed. it wasn't really the worst time, either. i struggled to understand why i couldn't seem to get over it, why i felt so upset. i think i've figured it out. i think it was the insidiousness of it along with how outnumbered i felt. there were three of them and just one of me, and the way they went about it left no room for a dialogue. i felt like i was just receiving hostility for an hour and had no way to respond without coming off as a belligerent, paranoid person. i felt backed into a corner and powerless, and that's why it seemed so much worse.
i guess the point of this post is to regain a bit of that power through telling the story.
