The Great Shift

 

Jason had thought being a woman would be easier than being a man. "I just want it simpler", he'd told himself. He was beginning to wish he'd thought about it a little longer. He hadn't counted on cramps that arrived like a warning siren, or on how much he would spend on hair products, makeup, clothes, shoes, and underwear. At the register, he'd stared at the total and thought, "Oh, that's not a luxury budget anymore, that's groceries." Then there were the toilets. He'd spent twenty minutes in a line that barely moved, shifting from foot to foot, telling himself not to panic. Inside, the lock was broken, the seat was wet, the toilet-roll holder was empty. He'd laughed under his breath because the alternative was crying. "Alright. This counts too." By the time he left the club, his feet throbbed. The shoes had looked lovely in the shop. Three hours later, every step rubbed the same blister. His dress offered little warmth. He kept tugging at the hem as he hurried along the pavement.

A man outside the club called after him. "Leaving already, gorgeous? Come back to mine." Jason said, "No, thank you," and kept his eyes forward. Earlier, another man had taken his polite smile as permission to grab his waist. When Jason moved away, the man had demanded to know what his problem was. Now footsteps sounded behind him. He told himself not to jump to conclusions, but his throat tightened anyway. He crossed toward a bright petrol station, thinking light was as good as armour, and waited until the footsteps faded past. Only then did he let his hands shake enough to summon a taxi.

The driver, an older woman, glanced at his shoes and said, "Long night? I've got plasters if you need one." Jason blinked. "Yeah, please." At home, he locked the door, peeled off the shoes and pressed the plaster over the blister. He still liked the face in the mirror, still wanted parts of this life. He also remembered teasing a female colleague for taking taxis home. "I get it now," he said to the empty room. He picked up his phone. He owed an apology, and maybe a few more things he needed to learn out loud.