Fawn Mode: When Survival and Kindness Feel Like Failure

I want to share something that happened at a wedding last night.

Not to get sympathy, and definitely not to get told ‘welcome to womanhood’.

It was a beautiful evening, the venue was stunning, the live music was brilliant. The woman singing and playing guitar started playing: “Can’t Help Falling in Love”, winding her set down. I was standing off to the side, swaying gently, just enjoying the moment.

I politely said ‘No, I’m alright.’

He insisted. ‘Come on, it’ll be a laugh.’

I hesitated.

Partly because I didn’t want to make a scene at my friend’s wedding.

Partly because I’d never been in that particular situation before: being asked to dance by a stranger as a woman.

I thought maybe it was one of those things to try once, despite my reluctance I gave my fiancée a ‘help, what do I do?’ glance…but she didn’t quite catch it.

So I panicked. I relented.

He looked up at me and said, ‘You’re really tall,’ which sort of told me that he hadn’t clocked I’m trans. I just shrugged and tried to focus on the music.

Then, as the lyrics ‘can’t help falling in love with you’ played, he grabbed my hands and said, in a flirty way, ‘Don’t be saying that to me.’

I replied, slightly more assertively, ‘Not going to happen — I’m a lesbian.‘

He responded with, ‘Ooh, even better,’ and then put his arm around me, letting his hand brush my bum.

I pulled away and said something about my partner being over there. He put his arm around me again, and made a some sort of gross comment about ‘the three of us in the bed‘.

That was it.

I smiled thinly, made an excuse about needing to find my drink, and got out of there.

I felt sick.

Ashamed.

Like I’d betrayed myself by not making a fuss – but also glad I didn’t cause a scene at someone’s special day. It’s complicated.

Later, I found out he was an old neighbour, someone my friend knew. There was a moment later I was talking to my friend and he introduced the same guy to me (and my fiancée) and said, ‘this is ****, my old neighbour‘. I looked at the guy in the eye said coldly and flatly, ‘yeah… we’ve met‘.

Ps. Earlier in the evening, another man from that same group sat down next to my partner & asked, ‘So, do you have a husband?’ She replied, quite proudly, ‘No, I have a wife.’

To be honest, I’m still unpacking the whole thing.

The pressure to be kind.

The panic.

The feeling of being reduced to an object to be selected from a shelf, to feel ‘honoured’ if a man shows me attention.

But I’m writing this because I know I’m not alone in this. And because I don’t want to feel ashamed about something I never consented to.

I guess I handled it ok, even if I wish I’d done more.

Next time (if there is a next time) I’ll be even clearer, faster, firmer. Fuck no.