What you’re saying to us by refusing to acknowledge us
It would happen a lot. It would happen at least once at every event, every gathering.
I have been part of a sexpositive community for nearly four years. In general, it’s been a great experience. I had made many lasting friendships. However, inevitably, at every event — every gathering, someone would eventually misgender me.
At one point it got so bad that I stopped going to events in general. What’d be the point? I was no longer enjoying the two hour gathering, the three-hour evening; I’d be cringing, awaiting the inevitable “he” or “him.”
For a trans woman, being misgendered is not an annoyance. It is a direct blow to the heart, a jolt of negative current to the brain. Have you ever had the dream that you’re at a public event and suddenly you realize that you’re naked? That. Times one thousand.
