In case you’d like to listen rather than read this post, or maybe you’d like to follow along, I’ve recorded it here.
I keep hearing that those of us who were dismayed or worse by the results of the 2024 presidential election should stop pulling our hair out and just roll with the punches.
That’s all well and good for people like me (white, het-cis, financially stable, and beyond the age of child-bearing). But as a strong ally of LGBTQ people, when I see fear in their eyes, I know why it’s there. And I lose a little more hair.
In 2016, when the state of North Carolina passed HB2 (a.k.a. “the bathroom bill), I wrote a letter to then Governor Pat McCrory hoping to reduce his apparent ignorance about gender identity and, possibly, show him the benefit of empathy. I’d like to think it worked; the law was eventually reversed. But only in North Carolina. (And, to be fair, the reversal probably came about more thanks to the amount of corporate money the state would have lost if they hadn’t changed their minds.)
The intent of HB2 was to limit the rights of everyone in the LGBTQ category, a knee-jerk reaction in response to the attempt of Charlotte, NC to extend rights to this group. HB2 went all out against trans individuals in particular, requiring everyone to use public bathrooms according to what was on their birth certificates. And although North Carolina has emerged from the dark ages, at least in terms of this type of legislation, it seems those legislators plowed the proverbial ground. And now, several other states are enjoying a harvest.
According to the Movement Advancement Project, as of 1/17/25, 16 states had some level of restriction, denying access in places ranging from K-12 public schools to all publicly-owned buildings (including schools, colleges, spaces, and more). Some assign criminal offense to “perpetrators.” Additional states have laws defining sex in ways that affect the free movement of transgender citizens. And some states, such as Ohio, have passed laws that ban the use of bathrooms by transgender individuals even in private colleges.
If I could be even remotely hopeful that my letter to McCrory could have enlightening effects on other state governors and legislators, I’d type my little fingers to the bone. But I have another idea. It’s called satire.
The idea that transpeople pose any danger to anyone when they’re taking a piss is beyond ridiculous. In fact, the people who tend to get hurt in bathrooms would seem to be the trans people themselves. And if the fear is that nefarious, ill-intentioned men would pretend to be women just so they could sneak into a bathroom... well, just think about that for a minute.
If a rapist is not caught when he sneaks into a women’s room, he won’t claim to be trans, because he wasn’t even seen.
If a rapist is caught sneaking into a women’s room, there’s no way a woman-hating man who was willing to sneak into a bathroom to rape a random woman is going to claim to be trans. (Just imagine what would happen to him in prison if he did. He knows how long he’d last.)
No rapist is going to doll himself up so he can sneak into a women’s room.
To prove that last point, here’s a fun little monologue from the point of view of a rapist planning to attack women in bathrooms and get away with it by claiming to be trans.
Hello, little girl. My name is… well, it doesn’t matter. What matters is how much trouble I'm planning to go to just to get to a place where I can attack you. Let me tell you all about it.
See, I grew up twisted. Blame it on abuse, blame it on a mother who was domineering, blame it on whatever you like. The thing is, I hate females. And something inside me tells me I’ll feel better if I beat you up, rape you, maybe even kill you. And I just came up with the best friggin' idea for how to get you alone so I can do horrible things to you. BATHROOMS!
So, here’s my plan. I’ll go someplace where I can buy a wig with long hair; gotta hide my sideburns, y’know? Trouble is I’m not real big on going into a wig shop and having anyone see me looking at women’s wigs, trying them on, or—worse—actually buying one. Maybe I’ll order online… but then I’ll start getting all kinds of spam from places where they think I’m a woman. I mean, I'm super confident. Don't get me wrong on that. It's just ... well, it’s gonna be a problem…
Never mind. Let’s say I’ve got the wig. Now I need to get hold of some makeup. Not just eye stuff and lip stuff, either. I mean, I’m a real man. Got all the parts to prove it, as well as the beard. And I ain’t takin’ no hormones, neither. So I need serious makeup. But… hmmm… gonna have the same issues with that as with the wig. Either I have to go someplace and be seen buying the stuff, or else I have to order it and have all these women’s sites sending me emails about what my skin tone is, what color lipstick is “in” this season.
Crap; nearly forgot fingernail polish. Gotta get that, too. And remover. Am I forgetting anything else?
Never mind. Let’s say I’ve got the makeup. I don’t have a clue what to do with it, so I’ll watch some online videos, and I’ll practice. Trouble is, the better I get—and the more like a woman I appear—the more my stomach turns when I see myself in the mirror. Yuck… Is that really me???
Never mind. Next is clothes. I sure can’t wear anything I’ve bought for myself as a man… Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, why is this so friggin’ hard? I’ll get clothes somehow. And shoes. And a pocketbook… Wait just a minute. I’m gonna have to carry a purse?!?!?
Yeah. Not only that, but I'm gonna have to practice. You know, walk like a girl. Hold my shoulders like a girl. Hold my hands and wrists like a girl. Move my hips (I can't believe I'm even thinking about this) like a girl. Man... how long is this gonna take?
I’m not sure “never mind” is gonna cut it at this point. Because let’s say I’ve gotten through the terror I feel shopping for girlie stuff, and I've beaten my nausea into submission enough to actually use it, I've put in hours of practice walking, talking, sashaying—all that stuff that makes me want to strike out when I see it—and I've managed to put myself together so that people will think I'm a woman.
After days and days of preparation, I’m ready: wig curled and positioned perfectly, makeup smeared all over my face and making me want to hose myself down, plus-plus-plus size jeans on under a voluminous black… [gulp]… blouse, too-tight running shoes killing my feet with every step, shoulder bag in place. Let’s say I’m ready to go out into the world, make my way to… I don’t know, a bus station, maybe? A movie theater? A gym? No, a gym won’t work; I’d have to convince someone there that I was a woman in a one-to-one encounter or they wouldn’t let me past the reception desk, and I'm not convincing enough for that. Movie theater, then.
I’m standing inside my front door. I’m ready. I’m going to do this. I’m gonna go out into the world and try to make everyone think that instead of this tough, aggressive, self-righteous, angry MAN, I’m actually just like the people I hate with an irrational passion that makes me want to damage them. I’ve got to fool everyone into seeing me as someone who should be allowed into a women’s public bathroom. I’m gonna do it.
I am.
...
I’m sure of it.
…
Crap. Bloody hell. I’m never gonna be able to do this. Excuse me a minute.
[Sounds of ripping fabric, shoes flung across a room, angry growls, the occasional wordless yell, and—finally—running water and loud, masculine sighs.]
There. I’m my true self again. Man, that feels better. Looks better, too, in that mirror that nearly made me upchuck earlier. Handsome guy, yeah? Any woman would thank her lucky stars if I pretend to make a play for her. And she’ll never suspect what I’m gonna do to her. Never in a million years.
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I’m an inveterate observer of human nature, writing novels about all kinds of people, some of whom happen to be gay or transgender or bisexual or intersex—people whose destinies are not determined solely by their sexual orientation or gender identity. Check out my work on my website.
Thanks for sharing this, Robin. Definitely illustrates how this fearmongering isn't based on real threats.
When I was a child, we (the boys) were taught not to linger in men's restrooms, because homosexuals were in there and would do unknown things to us then cut off our genitalia and leave us to die. The story has changed some, but it's essentially the same. Fear and ignorance mixed together make a horrible brew.