“Want to trade?”
Those words still echo in my head from time to time as I try to navigate the shame of handling a situation ever so wrongly.
I was standing in line at the MOMA for an interactive photo booth exhibit, and in front of me stood a Queer person wearing a sunflower-colored dress. I was immediately in love with the dress– the bold color, the cut of it, and the flawlessness with which this person wore it.
“I love your dress!” I exclaimed exuberantly.
“Thank you.” They said shyly, adding, “I like yours too.”
Then went my so-dummy cheeky comment with just as much passion as my first exclamation:
“Want to trade?”
They laughed slightly and then moved out of the line with their friends a few moments later, abandoning the chance to snap photos in a themed photo booth.
The short conversation’s sting was fresh, but I knew I’d gone somewhere I shouldn’t have– at least, that seemed to be implied by their sudden move.
Antagonism from cis-gender females on Queer folk does not escape me, and yet in such a short interaction, I managed to make a joke of someone’s shine unwittingly. I was heartbroken but knew that it paled in comparison to them, now forced to think that their lovely sunflower dress was the butt of a joke on their expression of self.
In the heat of the moment, you don’t get the chance to explain yourself and check-in with a total stranger. You either feel the sting or don’t and if you do, don’t ignore it.
Retrospectulate, and learn from it.
Retrospeculator 