(I am a male transitioning to female. I go to a high school where bullying is a huge problem, and the teachers do little about it. Due to my small size, I am often a target, and have to run for my own safety. I am physically male, but can be mistaken as a girl with my long hair and waifish body type.)

Bully Leader: “Get back here twerp!”

(I run down the hall between the locker rooms and the gym.)

Bully #2: “I got him!”

(Bully #2 jumps in front of me around a corner. I duck inside the girl’s locker room and find a corner away from the door to sit and stare at. I never once look towards the girls who are changing. The gym teacher heads to the door to head off the bullies.)

Gym Teacher: “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Bully Leader: “Out of the way!”

Gym Teacher: “Sorry, but no. This is a girl’s locker room.”

Bully Leader: “There’s a boy in there right now!”

Gym Teacher: “I saw no boy, just the girl that fled in here before you showed up. Now leave before I call the cops!”

Bully Leader: “This isn’t the end twerp!” *leaves*

Gym Teacher: *walks over* “You’re lucky. Most boys who come in here I send out immediately with suspension.”

Me: “And why didn’t you?”

Gym Teacher: “Because A: the girls aren’t shrinking in terror. B: you haven’t been taking a peek at them since you got in here; you’ve been staring at the wall. Even now you don’t dare risk looking at me while I talk to you because you don’t want to accidentally look. Am I right?”

Me: “That’s correct.”

Gym Teacher: “And C: I have been noticing you around being chased by those guys. I’ve been trying to get them expelled but the rest of the faculty sadly doesn’t care.”

Me: “Yeah, I’ve learned that well enough. And so have they. I’m sorry for barging in like that.”

Gym Teacher: “Well, I protect my girls. You can consider yourself as one of us.”

Me: “Are you sure you should be making that kind of decision?”

(One of the girls in the locker room chimes in.)

Girl: “Well, considering we’re not throwing things at you, yes. You’re one of us.”

Gym Teacher: “Then it’s decided. Any time you need to get away from those bullies, or just need a place to hide, my door is always open.”

(Since then, up until the point I dropped out because I couldn’t take that school anymore, I hid in the girl’s locker room. Now that I’m older and better transitioning as a girl, I am amazed I was able to do such a thing. So to the gym teacher who protected me, I hope you’re reading this. Thank you.)

(I turn up at my boyfriend’s house. I am ignored by him as he’s gaming, so I go to wait in the other room. My boyfriend comes in and pays me some attention. I think it’s sweet of him, until I realise something.)

Me: “You came in because you died, didn’t you?”

Boyfriend: “…yes.”

(I have been working from home today. My wife has just got home from her own work.)

Wife: “So, how was your day?”

Me: *excited* “Great! I had cheese on toast for lunch with a glass of tomato juice!”

Wife: “Okay…?”

Me: “And then I had cheese and tomato flavour burps!”

Wife: “Can you just stay away from me this evening?”

Me: “My hair is getting pretty long, isn’t it?”

Fiancé: “Well of course it is, honey; you’re a girl.”

Me: “What has that got to do with anything?”

Fiancé: “Sexism. Rampant sexism.”

(It is the first day of fourth grade for me. I’m not in the best of moods, because I’m not a very social kid, and not looking forward to being forced into socializing for school. When I get to the bus stop, there is a new, cute boy animatedly talking to his brother. He stops, and looks at me up and down.)

Me: “What are you looking at?!”

Boy: “You, apparently.”

Me: “Well, don’t! It’s not my fault your mom let you out of the house looking like that.”

(He glares at me, and chases me up and down the bus stop before tackling me in a bush. He then stands up, dusts himself off, extends his hand to help me up, plucks a leaf out of my hair, and gives me a lopsided smile before extending his hand again to take mine and shake it.)

Boy: “Hi, I’m [name]! I just moved here!”

Me: *stunned*

Boy: “You got a name or what?”

Me: “Of course I do! My name is [name], and what weirdo doesn’t have a name?!”

Boy: “I don’t know; you tell me!”

(We’ve been joint at the hip ever since. His parents called it from the start, and despite taking years of trying people who didn’t quite fit us the way we fit each other, we got together. It’s probably the best decision I have ever made!)