Anyone who might find an frank discussion about hormones — which are, in certain cases, related to sex — is advised to stop reading this column right now, and find a nice romantic movie on Netflix instead.
Because I intend to be frank.
Starting with a confession that I once walked into the ladies restroom at an airport — by accident. When I looked up and noticed that everyone else in the room was a woman, I immediately realized my mistake, and wheeled myself and my suitcase out the door, without so much as a ‘How d’ya do’. Thank goodness it was at an airport, because I will very likely never see any of those women again. If it had happened at our local high school, during a basketball game… well, let’s not go there.
I mention this event because of the speed with which I realized that I was in the wrong restroom. Like, I didn’t have to stop and think, “Am I in the wrong restroom?” I instantly knew.
I hear there are people, nowadays, who have to think about which restroom they want to use. I would not want to be in those people’s shoes. Even at an airport.
Before the discovery of hormones, a person knew whether they were a man or a woman, from a relatively young age. All they had to do was look at the color of their bedroom walls. If the walls were pink, they were a girl; blue, a boy. As they grew older, they could pick any color they wanted for the walls, but they stayed the same gender regardless.
They might have pondered, if they were a boy, “I wonder what it’s like to be a girl?” But that was as far as the pondering went. They never thought, “I think I’ll actually find out what it’s like to be a girl.”
However, that happened to me, sort of, when I was in my early 20s. The small town I lived in was really big on Halloween, especially the adults. Downtown was always hopping, and practically everyone dressed up in a more-or-less-extravagant costume. One particular Halloween, my girlfriend Colleen and I decided to swap clothes. Years later, I can still recall what it felt like to slip into her bra (with large oranges added) and a flimsy yellow dress. I had really long hair in those days, and I did the whole make-up routine, with foundation and lipstick and rouge and eye shadow and mascara.
Colleen kept asking if I was ready yet. Which was annoying, but I tolerated it.
I ended up looking really foxy, and downright cute. Since we’re being frank. I didn’t like the high heels, but they were a necessary part of the costume.
When we headed downtown, guys started to hit on me, which was awkward at first because I was used to them hitting on Colleen. But after a while (and a couple of drinks) I got more comfortable flirting with them. (Since I obviously had a boyfriend handy, to protect me. Turns out, Colleen knew exactly how to behave like a jealous boyfriend.)
Anyway, that’s my claim to fame. I know a little bit about what it’s like to be a cute girl, on Halloween, in a small town.
Does that make me an authority on gender issues? Probably not. I’ve never tried to apply for a job, dressed as a cute girl, for instance.
Many years ago, people knew that women were women, and men were men (usually) but they didn’t know exactly why, or how.
Then two scientists, William Bayliss and Ernest Starling, discovered hormones. Actually, they discovered one specific hormone, secretin, which regulates digestion. Not too exciting, compared to, say, testosterone, but it got people interested in finding weird chemicals that made the body look and act in certain ways.
For example, estrogen causes women to apply lipstick and eye shadow. We never understood why that happened, until estrogen was discovered.
Once the pharmaceutical companies got wind of hormones, they were soon making synthetic hormones, which are similar to natural hormones but they come in a pill.
In particular, The Pill.
From that point, things got a bit crazy. Doctors, and pharmaceutical companies — and the rest of us — figured out that hormones could make a man look and act like a woman, and vice versa.
And speaking frankly, there’s a very attractive woman who lives down the street from me, with a pleasant personality, who used to be a man. In fact, we used to play poker together, before he became a she. I assume she’s taking estrogen, because she’s usually wearing lipstick and eye shadow.
She gives me a friendly wave whenever I see her walking her poodle.
Like I said, she’s very attractive.
But maybe that’s just my own hormones talking?
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.