With Mom It Can Be Like Bearding The Lion

| Hampshire, England, UK | Related | May 9, 2017

(I am a trans man. Since before I even admitted my gender identity to myself I knew I wanted a beard, so as soon as I could grow one that didn’t look like pathetic fluff, I did. This was a few months after I proposed to my now-husband, but a few years before we got married. We’ve gone together to meet my mother in town.)

Mother: “Eurgh, no, I don’t like your beard. Not at all.”

Me: *stomach sinking, wondering if it looks terrible* “Why not?”

Mother: “I hate beards! They’re awful! Your father grew a beard and I hated it.”

Me: “Oh. Well, you don’t have to like it. It’s my face.”

Mother: “Eurgh. I hope you’re not going to have that when you get married!”

Me: “Only two people have a say in what happens on that day, mum.”

Mother: *clearly triumphant and completely certain that he was going to back her up, she rounds on my fiancé* “Well?!”

Fiancé: *calmly* “I like it, I think it looks cool.”

Mother: “Well… Well, fine then! You always have to have your way!”

(We haven’t spoken to my mother since the day we got back from our honeymoon. Best decision I’ve ever made! And yes, I got married with a beard, and since then have grown the goatee section long enough to put beads in. I love it and it looks good on me. She would be horrified, both by the beard and by my ownership of my own body, in defiance of her wishes!)

Believes In It In Spirit

| WA, USA | Romantic | May 7, 2017

(My girlfriend and I are at the end of an evening stroll. She is pagan, which I’m curious about but not sold on, and I decide to ask about it.)

Me: “Why did you say the other day that I can be a witch? Don’t you have to believe in magic and spirits and all that to call yourself a witch?”

Girlfriend: “No.”

(The conversation turns to something else, but a few minutes later I get the feeling I’m being followed and turn around to see nobody.)

Me: “That’s weird. I could sense someone behind me.”

Girlfriend: “That was a passing spirit.”

Me: “Oh, no! They didn’t take what I said as an insult, did they?”

(A minute later we were safely home and laughing at my not wanting to offend something I don’t believe in.)

More Than One Way To Get That Problem Licked

, | Sacramento, CA, USA | Romantic | May 6, 2017

(I’m on my lunch break at work, sitting outside. A mounted police officer has approached and is on the sidewalk near us. I love horses, so I ask if I can approach the horse. The officer says yes and I pet the animal’s snout. The horse sticks out its tongue and licks my hand. Just then, my phone buzzes with an incoming text message from my ex.)

Ex: “Just wanted to tell you that the paperwork came. We’re now officially divorced.”

Me: “A horse licked me!”

(She doesn’t reply, so I continue:)

Me: “Or was that an inappropriate response?”

Ex: “LOL. Actually, no. I was feeling down about it all, and that made me crack up.”

Paying Attention… Usually

| Pasadena, MD, USA | Friendly | May 2, 2017

(I’m hanging out with my best, who I’ve known for over 15 years. She knows that I tend to get distracted, but will still reply to questions, even if I’m not paying attention. But, she knows I’m no longer listening when my answers don’t make sense.)

Friend: “What the h*** is wrong with you?”

Me: “Usually.”

Friend: *starts laughing* “D*** it, woman!”

Both Are Hard But One Is Harder

| CA, USA | Friendly | April 26, 2017

(I’m walking home when I trip and fall, the contents of my purse falling onto the sidewalk, including a couple of tampons. A man stops to help — no worries, I got the valuables up first! — and is gathering items.)

Man: *holding a tampon* “What’s this?”

Me: *a little embarrassed* “Oops! It’s a tampon.”

Man: “Huh?”

Me: “Y’know, for THAT time of the month?”

Man: “Oh… OH! Oh, sorry, I’m tired… Heh… Period, right… Can’t you just hold it? Hold the blood?”

Me: “What? That’d be awesome, but no.”

Man: *suddenly angry* “But you’ve had them for so long! Why can’t you control it by now?! Women are idiots if they can’t do that!”

Me: “Boners.”

Man: “What? What does that have to do with anything?”

Me: “You’ve had ’em since the dawn of time. Why can’t you control them?”

Man: “It… wait… ugh! F*** you, b****!”

Me: *starts to leave, having gathered contents of purse* “Ha! You wish.”

Man: “Can… can I still get your number?”

Me: “What the h*** is wrong with you?”

(I walked a little faster, and luckily, I never ran into him again. Honestly, the nerve and stupidity of some people amazes me.)

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