Happy birthday to me 03-13-25

This story broke my heart. Even 72 years of hardening didn’t prepare me for how I would feel about this. You see, this could have been me or any one of a multitude of “too male-looking” females.

I am 5’11’’ tall. (I used to be 6’ until intervertebral desiccation shrunk me by half an inch or so.) I have broad shoulders, long arms and legs, big hands and feet, and my voice moderates between alto and first baritone. I have a very square jaw (thanks, Dad!) and am not what you might traditionally call “pretty.” It’s okay – I don’t worry about that stuff anymore. But to think that transgender fear is so great out there that someone might call security on someone because they look “too male” or “too female” (it could happen to a guy, too, I imagine) just does me in today. I can only imagine the humiliation and denigration this woman felt.

Why can’t we stay out of each other’s hair? Why is it so important for us to try to fit every square peg into our own round hole? If there’s one thing I’ve learned at age 72, it’s that the more we try to connect with each other and understand each other, the more peace of mind we’ll have. And even if we can’t walk a mile in the other guy’s shoes, just leave each other the heck alone. Is that so hard? Really?