Today at the bar a man I’d never seen before glanced at my highly scarred arm and said:
“Oh sweetie, looks like you got an owie.”
He appeared roughly ten years older than me and quite attractive. Nice voice. Nice pheromones. I liked him immediately.
Yes the words patronized me—treated me like a child. (He would never have said it this way to a man–to an equal). But I chose to enjoy the patronization as evidence of my successful transition. Figuring this will be the norm from now on, I responded by telling him, in my sultriest feminine voice, how I got the scar.
I’m a badass.
But get really turned on when a man “puts me in my place” through (kindly expressed) sexism.