A friend invited me over to watch a movie with some of his friends. He was the only one that I knew.  I was excited to get out, and meet some new people in an effort to get my life up and rolling post-divorce.  After the movie we sat around talking.  Eventually the conversation fell on the topic of trans-inclusive bathroom policies.  Did I mention it was three o’clock in the morning?  Maybe not the best time of day to alight on such a controversial subject.  However, it was likely broached because all the other individuals in the room were on the same page.  But, to me their view seemed a little too narrow; I took it upon myself to point out the errors in their thinking.  I pointed out that perhaps they were taking things to the extreme, that maybe allowing a trans-gender individual to use the bathroom that they feel comfortable in, doesn’t necessarily mean that their wives and daughters are going to be raped. 

My friend, of all people, just kept getting more and more agitated – trying to make me see things his way.  A girl in the room, kept rolling her eyes, and looking at me like I was stupid. And, another guy decided to mediate – but really, in the end, just wanted me to see things the way the rest of them did.

I think the thing that bothered me most was that girl.  Why was she looking at me like that?  Isn’t it okay to have a different opinion?  Isn’t it okay to encourage people to look at both sides of a story?  But, she just kept looking at me like I was a moron.  Maybe it was just because I was the stranger in the room, and she couldn’t believe that I was so obtuse – but part of me felt like she was disappointed with my lack of femininity.  She herself had been an active participant in the conversation while it had been all jokes and laughs. She was funny, and full of banter, but it all had an underlying damsel in distress sort of quality.  She had played the roll of naïve female who couldn’t possibly understand the definition of a Western film, getting the men all worked up by asking if “Rango” could be considered a Western.  However, as the conversation turned to more serious subjects – she grew more quiet – retiring, in a way, to the drawing room and leaving the men to their cigars and politics.  But I did the opposite, and became more passionate and conversant, seemingly make a nuisance of myself left right and center.

I felt sorry for myself as I drove home. Why couldn’t I be accepted for trying to point out how another person might feel, or for encouraging a conversation to visit more sides than just one? Why was I to blame for my friend getting all worked up?  I wasn’t agitated or annoyed.  Yet, I was the person getting the judgmental looks and mediation efforts.  I realize that I was the odd man out – but still….  Why does like attract like?  Some say that opposites attract, but in my experience people tend to shun those who are different from themselves.  I’m not in the mood to be shunned.  I’ve spent the past three years being a complete disappointment to a man who claimed to love me. Right now, I really just want someone to appreciate me for who I am. Appreciate that I see things differently and that I’m willing to put myself in someone else’s shoes.  But, I’m lodged in this culture of uniformity - where different is bad, and expressing acceptance of differences is downright immoral – and I hate it.

The crazy thing was, they had spent a significant amount of time discussing a friend who makes shamefully racist comments in an effort to get a rise out of people.  They laughed about how people just don’t understand him – how he doesn’t really hate Jews and Blacks, and that his comments are really just funny once you get to know him. 

So that guy’s okay?!  That guy you can accept?  But, the person who tries to bring a little rationality and acceptance into your lives is obtuse, obnoxious, and too opinionated?  It just doesn’t make any damn sense.

I give up.