I got pulled over more in the first two years after my transition than I did the entire 20 years I was driving before that. Before, when I’d been stopped, even for real violations like driving 100 miles an hour, I got off.
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A couple of years after my transition, I had a grad student I’d been mentoring. She started coming on to me, stalking me, sending me emails and texts. My adviser and the dean — both women — laughed it off. It went on for the better part of a year, and that was the year that I was going up for tenure. It was a very scary time. I felt very worried that if the student felt I was not returning her attentions she would claim that I had assaulted her. I felt like as a guy, I was not taken seriously. I had experienced harassment as a female person at another university and they had reacted immediately, sending a police escort with me to and from campus.
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I am hyper-aware of making sudden or abrupt movements, especially in airports, train stations and other public places.
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“Prior to my transition, I was an outspoken radical feminist. I spoke up often, loudly and with confidence. I was encouraged to speak up. I was given awards for my efforts, literally — it was like, “Oh, yeah, speak up, speak out.” When I speak up now, I am often given the direct or indirect message that I am “mansplaining,” “taking up too much space” or “asserting my white male heterosexual privilege.” “
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My ability to empathize has grown exponentially, because I now factor men into my thinking and feeling about situations. Prior to my transition, I rarely considered how men experienced life or what they thought, wanted or liked about their lives.
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I do notice that some women do expect me to acquiesce or concede to them more now: Let them speak first, let them board the bus first, let them sit down first, and so on…
As a former lesbian feminist, I was put off by the way that some women want to be treated by me, now that I am a man, because it violates a foundational belief I carry, which is that women are fully capable human beings who do not need men to acquiesce or concede to them.
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What continues to strike me is the significant reduction in friendliness and kindness now extended to me in public spaces. It now feels as though I am on my own: No one, outside of family and close friends, is paying any attention to my well-being.
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Apparently, people were only holding the door for me because I was a woman rather than out of common courtesy as I had assumed. Not just men, women too. I learned this the first time I left the house presenting as male, when a woman entered a department store in front of me and just let the door swing shut behind her. I was so caught off guard I walked into it face first.
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People now assume I have logic, advice and seniority. They look at me and assume I know the answer, even when I don’t.
Okay but imagine months after the war, the sense of normalcy has yet to return. The mass relays are taking longer to repair than expected, rations are low and law enforcement is having a difficult time handling the growing number of civil disobedience. People are looking for someone to blame, and naturally, the blame falls on Shepard. Deseprate mobs come to her. Some begging for aid but others want Shepard to held accountable for the dramatic change of everyone’s life.
Garrus tries to shelter her from, saying she shouldn’t have to take it all on herself when she’s in recovery. But Shepard insists on helping so long as she’s out and doing something. Garrus reluctantly agrees but soon regrets it. Civil unrest starts to grow more and more out of control, and one day, while trying to maintain order, Shepard is suddenly shot by an assassin’s bullet while Garrus looks on stunned. He reacts a moment too late, only to just catch Shepard in his arms. It’s utter chaos as authorities try to control crowds while Garrus gathers up Shepard in his arms and races her to the nearest working hospital.
Shepard survives the assassination attempt, but it leaves Garrus completely rattled. Enough so that while Shepard recovers, he sends out a message to the crew requesting them to join him to track down the would-be assassins.
Last Week Tonight with John Oliver | October 7, 2018 Main Story: Brazilian Elections Jair Bolsonaro has just won 46% of the vote for President of Brazil. He will later have a run-off with Fernando Hadad who won 29.3% of the vote.
Leaving Dogmeat out because… who would insult the dog? 😦
Cait: Cait looked at them in disbelief for a minute. “Are ya fuckin’ with me?” When Sole shook their head, Cait just laughed and punched their shoulder (regardless of any injuries there). “Well, looks like the bastard got a good swing or two on you.” She didn’t seem to take it too seriously while speaking to them, but in reality it was kinda… sobering. Cait couldn’t think of another soul who’d risk their skin on her behalf, even if it was only a fistfight. Certainly, she saw Sole in a different light afterwards.
Codsworth: He made a big fuss. “Oh my… sir/mum!” Codsworth floated around them, craning his eyes to inspect wounds and promptly giving Sole medical supplies, erring on the side of excessive caution. “While it was quite generous of you to defend my honor, sir/mum,” he said, still bustling around as Sole tended to their injuries, “you mustn’t harm yourself on my behalf. And you certainly mustn’t escalate a verbal altercation like that, good lord! A few insults aren’t the end of the world. There must be other ways to resolve an argument.”
Curie: Curie was horrified. She scolded Sole while tending to their injuries, dabbing their scrapes with alcohol and putting ice on the larger bruises. Her words switched between almost inaudible, usually medical notes to herself, and louder, more pointed comments on how violent the Commonwealth was. “Mon dieu. Hurting others is never acceptable, but it seems you never learned that up here. Minor laceration… Just because this world is full of barbarians doesn’t excuse retaliation.” Fighting, even for her, would not win her approval.
Danse: Danse sighed heavily when he saw Sole’s black eye and dozens of bruises and scrapes. Other than that, though, he didn’t actually scold them too badly, besides maybe shaking his head as they told the story. Afterwards, Danse told them sternly not to put themselves in harm’s way like that- yes, even if he was being insulted- but he was internally somewhere between touched and vaguely bemused. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have done the same thing himself, honestly, so he couldn’t be too critical of Sole.
Deacon: Yeah, it was pretty funny, but it still wasn’t great to have been positively identified at a bar and then associated with Sole in the form of a fight with several witnesses. Especially if it was at, like, the Dugout Inn, where the proprietors were already suspicious of Deacon. “Well, looks like I need a new cover,” he said in resignation. “Have fun in your fistfight? Break any teeth for me?” Really, Deacon didn’t know how to feel about it. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the violence, but he also didn’t doubt Sole’s loyalty- and that was something.
Gage: After he got over his initial surprise that Sole would fight for him (it was definitely a new feeling), Gage was honestly baffled that the other guy wasn’t dead. He couldn’t believe someone had managed to give Sole a shiner without three bullets between their eyes- this was the Overboss, after all. Some folks had got shot for less. If Sole chose to keep it limited to a fistfight for some strategic reason, though, Gage would wanna know who the fuck it was. If someone that important had it out for him, he wanted to know.
Hancock: He grinned at the news, stepping back to get a big-picture view of Sole’s injuries. “Well, well. Looks like you finally paid me back for Finn. You, uh, just rough ‘em up a little? Not seeing any red stains on your get-up, there.” Whether Sole had killed the person or not, Hancock was glad to see how much Sole’s sense of loyalty lined up with his. Hell, he’d killed a man for Sole on day one, and that willingness hadn’t changed much since. He wanted to know who was bad-mouthing him, though- shut down any conspiracies before they started.
MacCready: MacCready kind of half-laughed at the sorry state Sole was in, but he was actually pleasantly surprised. He hadn’t met a lot of people who’d do anything like that for him, and though he considered Sole his best friend, it was nice to have that affirmation. “Yeesh, that’s a nasty black eye. Knowing you, though, I bet the other guy looks way worse.” That prompted Sole into a graphic description of exactly what they’d done to that idiot, which MacCready sat and listened to, growing more appreciative (and more amused) by the second.
Nick: He was firstly concerned about Sole’s injuries, but once assured they were minor and told the reason, Nick got vaguely irritated. He had several pals with a penchant for fisticuffs, Hancock included, but this was ridiculous. Nick had been insulted his whole life, faced anti-synth prejudice almost everywhere, but he’d never resorted to a fistfight without a damn good reason. He told Sole so, too, but he found he couldn’t be too hard on them. They were just trying to watch Nick’s back, after all, though their methods were less than savory.
Piper: She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Blue. Again? If you concussed everyone who’d ever criticized me, half the Commonwealth would be out cold.” In truth, Piper was more playfully irritated than actually irate. Though maybe Sole wasn’t the best role model for Nat to see fraternizing with her older sister, Sole was a real good person, with a persistent sense of humor and an undying loyalty to their friends. They weren’t too violent, either- unless Piper’s dignity was on the line, apparently. She didn’t really mind, but she couldn’t encourage it either.
Preston: Preston was disapproving, sure (especially considering his worry when Sole walked into Sanctuary looking like that), but he didn’t really get mad. Maybe it wasn’t the best for public image if the General of the Minutemen was seen getting into bar fights, but the thought behind it was sweet. It was nice to know Sole cared about him so much, actually, that Preston’s admiration was reciprocated, even if Sole’s way of showing it left something to be desired. He still suggested they avoid it in the future, though.
Strong: Strong recognized the bruises and cuts as badges of a successful hand-to-hand fight, and didn’t even need the explanation before he was expressing approval, if mixed with semi-condescending remarks on fragile human skin. He was glad to hear Sole was defending him, too. Though he insisted he would have rather snapped the offender’s neck himself, he knew other humans stared at Sole while he was with them. It was good that Sole didn’t mind their judgement, just as he didn’t mind his brothers’ disapproval.
X6-88: X6 bit the inside of his lip once he saw Sole. He’d seen this person stare down mutants, Gunners, deathclaws, and he found it very difficult to not make a sarcastic remark about how some bar fight would be their downfall. Somehow, he kept it in, though, and was surprised by Sole’s next words, glad for the sunglasses to hide his eyes widening. Obviously, he didn’t care what the wastelanders thought of him, but Sole clearly did- and their demonstrable loyalty to X6 was almost… touching. He’d never experienced anything like it.
Captain-Radioactive-Mentality 