upworthy
More

How it feels to navigate a gym locker room when you're transgender.

People like me don't often feel welcomed. Let's change that.

Here's the thing about locker rooms: I avoid them whenever humanly possible.

I go out of my way to steer clear, heading into the gym wearing exactly what I plan to work out in and carrying nothing else with me. This means that, yes, there are days where the temperature is in the 20s or 30s, and I'll venture out without my coat as a way to avoid locker rooms.

On days where I absolutely have to use them, I do whatever I can to get in and out of the locker room as quickly and quietly as I can.


Here are my four stages of locker room interaction:

1. Two steps into the room, there's a coat hook. That's my go-to.

2. Immediately to the left is a row of (usually) empty lockers. That's my reluctant second.

3. If that row is full, I carry my belongings with me as I work out.

4. If that's too cumbersome, I just go home without working out.

This is my gym. As you can see, I do my best to go when I think the fewest people will be here.

It sounds bizarre, right? But ... one thing you may or may not know about me is that I'm transgender.

I'm pretty open about it, but it's not as though I wear a sign around my neck informing the general public — the vast majority of the time, strangers don't know. My life just is what it is: pretty boring.

But yes, being transgender is part of why I avoid locker rooms.

Here's me after a workout.

I've never put on or taken off an article of clothing in my gym's locker room nor do I plan on it anytime soon.

And I've never actually seen anybody else in there at the same time as me. But, I can't help it — during those few seconds I plan out so carefully, my anxiety rules over me — because I'm afraid.

Fully clothed, just two steps inside the door, I'm afraid.

I'm afraid of anybody else stepping through that door.

I'm afraid of being yelled at.

I'm afraid of being asked whether I'm in the wrong room.

I'm afraid I'll be physically harmed.

Now, it's not as though those thoughts are especially logical, but I guess it doesn't matter. Anxiety and fear don't follow rules of logic.

I know for certain that many other trans people have similar feelings about bathrooms and locker rooms. I have friends who've cancelled gym memberships out of fear. I have friends who avoid joining gyms out of fear. I have friends who simply live their lives in fear. If you're not transgender, these thoughts probably haven't occurred to you.

But for so many of us, these thoughts and fears can be all-consuming.

Sadly, trans women being attacked in public restrooms and locker rooms is a reality in our world.

People set on fighting against trans rights have made regulating bathroom access a concerning focal point of their agenda.

I've watched as city councils have debated the validity of my gender, and I've watched as cities have moved to ban people like me from locker rooms using the argument that it'd be letting "men" into women's locker rooms. The reality is that non-discrimination laws don't allow for men to enter women's locker rooms anyway. And in any case, I am not a man.

But the strategy of trying to legislate who can use which bathroom is based on misinformation about exactly who is helped by these types of ordinances and what they allow for.

For example, unlike what Mike Huckabee thinks, anti-discrimination laws allowing trans people to use bathrooms that match their gender identities would not have allowed him, a cisgender man, to enter the girls' locker room when he was in high school just for fun:


Former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee talks about how he would have tried to abuse these laws during his teen years.

One tactic anti-trans groups use to try to roll back or block non-discrimination ordinances is sending cisgender men into women's locker rooms.

Cisgender men are men whose gender identity matches the gender they were assigned at birth. This happened just a couple weeks back, actually, when a cisgender man walked into a women's locker room, took off his shirt, and stood there until somebody complained. After being kicked out, he returned hours later, again invading the locker room while young girls were changing for swim practice.

The groups behind these anti-trans efforts are pretty open about encouraging these tactics. They terrorize women and children as a way to show their supposed concern for those same people.

It's sick, but it has absolutely nothing to do with people like me.

Trans people aren't going into locker rooms, walking around naked, and leering at others. Sick men who want to "prove a point" are. They're trying to trick you into being scared of trans people. Please don't fall for it.

Deal with them, don't let them win, and don't take it out on us.

Right now, I'm afraid, but I have hope for the future.

There's currently a bit of anti-LGBTQ backlash going on in the wake of last year's marriage equality wins (and trans people are just the easiest target to take that out on, sadly), but I've seen the public fear of gay and lesbian people shift a lot just in the past few years, and I have hope that those feelings toward trans people will pass soon too.

I have hope for a more tolerant and accepting world where people don't need to feel afraid when doing something as simple as using the bathroom or changing in a locker room. I have hope that we're all going to be OK.

Gen Zer asks how people got around without GPS, Gen X responds

It's easy to forget what life was like before cell phones fit in your pocket and Google could tell you the meaning of life in less than .2 seconds. Gen Z is the first generation to be born after technology began to move faster than most people can blink. They never had to deal with the slow speeds and loud noises of dial up internet.

In fact, most people that fall in the Gen Z category have no idea that their parents burned music on a CD thinking that was peak mix tape technology. Oh, how wrong they were. Now songs live in a cloud but somehow come out of your phone without having to purchase the entire album or wait until the radio station plays the song so you can record it.

But Gen Z has never lived that struggle so the idea of things they consider to be basic parts of life not existing are baffling to them. One self professed Gen Zer, Aneisha, took to social media to ask a question that has been burning on her mind–how did people travel before GPS?

Now, if you're older than Gen Z–whose oldest members are just 27 years old–then you likely know the answer to the young whippersnapper's question. But even some Millennials had trouble answering Aneisha's question as several people matter of factly pointed to Mapquest. A service that requires–you guessed it, the internet.

Aneisha asks in her video, "Okay, serious question. How did people get around before the GPS? Like, did you guys actually pull a map and like draw lines to your destination? But then how does that work when you're driving by yourself, trying to hold up the map and drive? I know it's Gen Z of me but I kind of want to know."

@aneishaaaaaaaaaaa I hope this reaches the right people, i want to know
♬ original sound - aneishaaaaaaa

These are legitimate questions for someone who has never known life without GPS. Even when most Millennials were starting to drive, they had some form of internet to download turn-by-turn directions, so it makes sense that the cohort between Gen Z and Gen X would direct Aneisha to Mapquest. But there was a time before imaginary tiny pirates lived inside of computer screens to point you in the right direction and tales from those times are reserved for Gen X.

The generation known for practically raising themselves chimed in, not only to sarcastically tell Millennials to sit down but to set the record straight on what travel was like before the invention of the internet. Someone clearly unamused by younger folks' suggestion shares, "The people saying mapquest. There was a time before the internet kids."

Others are a little more helpful, like one person who writes, "You mentally note landmarks, intersections. Pretty easy actually," they continue. "stop at a gas station, open map in the store, ($4.99), put it back (free)."

"Believe it or not, yes we did use maps back then. We look at it before we leave, then take small glances to see what exits to take," someone says, which leaves Aneisha in disbelief, replying, "That's crazyy, I can't even read a map."

"Pulled over and asked the guy at the gas station," one person writes as another chimes in under the comment, "and then ask the guy down the street to make sure you told me right."

Imagine being a gas station attendant in the 90s while also being directionally challenged. Was that part of the hiring process, memorizing directions for when customers came in angry or crying because they were lost? Not knowing where you were going before the invention of the internet was also a bit of a brain exercise laced with exposure therapy for those with anxiety. There were no cell phones so if you were lost no one who cared about you would know until you could find a payphone to check in.

The world is so overly connected today that the idea of not being able to simply share your location with loved ones and "Ask Siri" when you've gotten turned around on your route seems dystopian. But in actuality, if you took a few teens from 1993 and plopped them into 2024 they'd think they were living inside of a sci-fi movie awaiting aliens to invade.

Technology has made our lives infinitely easier and nearly unrecognizable from the future most could've imagined before the year 2000, so it's not Gen Z's fault that they're unaware of how the "before times" were. They're simply a product of their generation.

This article originally appeared last year.

Health

Woman uses her super sense of smell to help scientists detect Parkinson's in minutes

Joy Milne first smelled the disease on her husband 10 years before his diagnosis.

There is currently no definitive test to detect Parkinson's.

We don’t always choose our gifts. Joy Milne’s superpower, one she inherited from her mother’s side of the family, was having a highly acute sense of smell. Milne might have never used her olfactory talent as a force for good had it not been for her late husband, Les Milne.

According to NPR, Les and Joy met in their teens and it was love at first sniff. "He had a lovely male musk smell. He really did," she told NPR.

After many years of a happy marriage, Joy noticed her husband, then in his 30s, had developed an “overpowering sort of nasty yeast smell.” The running joke-slash-complaint was that Les “wasn’t washing enough.”

Eventually Les’ scent wouldn’t be the only thing to change. Joy told NPR that her once funny, thoughtful husband completely transformed, becoming “moody,” irritable, and even aggressive. He wouldn’t receive a proper Parkinson’s diagnosis until the age of 45.

Joy didn’t suspect that she could somehow detect the disease until going with Les to a Parkinson’s support group and noticing that the same distinctive smell seemed to fill the room. After sharing the discovery with her husband, she knew she had to take action.

Joy began working with researchers at University of Edinburgh and through a series of experiments confirmed that she could sniff out Parkinson’s with flawless accuracy. Now scientists have created a breakthrough method of detection based on Joy’s special ability.

parkinsons

This new test works in mere minutes.

Twitter

Under the belief that Parkinson’s affects a person’s odor due to a chemical change in sebum, or skin oil, doctors simply run a cotton ball along the back of the neck, then identify specific molecules linked to the neurological condition. TheBBC reported that the skin-swab test is 95% accurate under laboratory conditions.

Though this medical advancement is still in its early stages, the discovery is promising. There is currently no definitive test to get a Parkinson’s diagnosis and, as Joy explained to Sky News, it is often not identified until patients have “over 50% of neuronal damage.”

Les died in 2015 at 65. An earlier diagnosis might have provided the opportunity to improve his lifestyle, which could possibly have offset symptoms. “It has been found that exercise and change of diet can make a phenomenal difference,” Joy told The Guardian.

She also recalled to BBC News that it would have meant having an explanation for the mood swings, not to mention traveling, spending more time with family… essentially, making the most out of what time was left. That perhaps is the biggest saving grace an early diagnosis could offer.

Les’ final wish before he passed was for Joy to continue using her gift, assuring that "it will make a difference." Joy is keeping that promise and currently extending her “super smeller” power to help smell other diseases like cancer and tuberculosis (TB).

While she notes that her superpower does make outings like shopping a “curse sometimes,” she also sees it as a “benefit” allowing her to help others.


This article originally appeared three years ago.

via JustusMoms29/TikTok (used with permission)

Justus Stroup is starting to realize her baby's name isn't that common.

One of the many surprises that come with parenthood is how the world reacts to your child’s name. It’s less of a surprise if your child has a common name like John, Mohammed, or Lisa. But if you give your child a non-traditional name that’s gender-neutral, you’re going to throw a lot of folks off-guard and mispronunciations are going to be an issue.

This exact situation happened with TikTok user Justus Stroup, who recently had her second child, but there’s a twist: she isn’t quite sure how to pronounce her child’s name either. "I may have named my daughter a name I can't even pronounce," Stroup opens the video. "Now, I think I can pronounce it, but I've told a couple of people her name and there are two people who thought I said the same exact thing. So, I don't know that I know how to [pronounce] her name correctly."


@justusmoms29

Just when you think you name your child something normal! #2under2mom #postpartum #newborn #momsoftiktok #uniquenames #babyname #babygirl #sahm #momhumor

Stroup’s daughter is named Sutton and the big problem is how people around her pronounce the Ts. Stroup tends to gloss over the Ts, so it sounds like Suh-en. However, some people go hard on the Ts and call her “Sut-ton.”

"I'm not gonna enunciate the 'Ts' like that. It drives me absolutely nuts," she noted in her TikTok video. "I told a friend her name one time, and she goes, 'Oh, that's cute.' And then she repeated the name back to me and I was like, 'No, that is not what I said.'"

Stroup also had a problem with her 2-year-old son’s speech therapist, who thought the baby’s name was Sun and that there weren’t any Ts in the name at all. "My speech therapist, when I corrected her and spelled it out, she goes, 'You know, living out in California, I have friends who named their kids River and Ocean, so I didn't think it was that far off.'"

Stroup told People that she got the name from a TV show called “The Lying Game,” which she used to watch in high school. "Truthfully, this was never a name on my list before finding out I was pregnant with a girl, but after finding out the gender, it was a name I mentioned and my husband fell in love with," says Stroup. "I still love the name. I honestly thought I was picking a strong yet still unique name. I still find it to be a pretty name, and I love that it is gender neutral as those are the type of names I love for girls."

The mother could choose the name because her husband named their son Greyson.



The commenters thought Stroup should tell people it’s Sutton, pronounced like a button. “I hear it correctly! Sutton like Button. I would pronounce it like you, too!” Amanda wrote.

“My daughter’s name is Sutton. I say it the same way as you. When people struggle with her name, I say it’s Button but with a S. That normally immediately gets them to pronounce it correctly,” Megan added.

After the video went viral, Stroup heard from people named Hunter and Peyton, who are dealing with a similar situation. “I've also noticed the two most common names who run into the same issue are Hunter (people pronouncing it as Hunner or HUNT-ER) and Payton (pronounced Pey-Ton or Pey-tin, most prefer it as Pey-tin),” she told Upworthy.

“Another person commented saying her name is Susan and people always think it is Season or Steven,” Stroup told Upworthy. After having her second child, she learned that people mix up even the simplest names. “No name is safe at this point,” she joked.

The whole situation has Stroup rethinking how she pronounces her daughter’s name. Hopefully, she got some advance on how to tell people how to pronounce it, or else she’ll have years of correcting people in front of her. "Good lord, I did not think this was going to be my issue with this name," she said.

This article originally appeared last year.

You don't have to watch hockey to enjoy Nick the Goalie's running commentary.

Goalkeepers and goaltenders in all kinds of sports play a unique role on a team. While other players have to communicate and strategize with one another as they play, a goalie just has one job—keep the ball/puck/etc. out of the goal. It's a hugely important job, but pretty straightforward.

When their team is on the other side of a field or rink, goalies watch and wait. Since their teammates know and trust that they're watching the action, they don't really have to interact with anyone most of the time. And while they can't totally zone out, they have all kinds of time to themselves while the action is happening far away.

Have you ever seen what happens when a person—especially someone who likes to talk—has a whole lot of time to themselves and no one to talk to?

Meet Nick Weston, who is giving everyone a glimpse into a world most of us only watch from afar and never get to hear. Weston is an amateur hockey player from Vancouver, Canada, who has become a TikTok sensation with his mic'd-up goalie videos under his nickname, Nick the Goalie.

Do you remember the snowboarding 4-year-old in a dinosaur costume who coined the phrase "I'm a stuck-a-saurus!" and won hearts with her adorably entertaining monologuing? Nick the Goalie is like that, only as a grown man playing a team sport.

People love Nick the Goalie's wholesome self-talk as he performs his goalie duties with gusto. (Though he often wears a Vancouver Canucks jersey, he doesn't play for a National Hockey League team. As he explained to CTV, he gets brought in to play goaltender on various local league teams.)

His videos have even been shared by ESPN and the NHL, and the comments on his videos are as fabulous as his running commentary.

Watch:

@nickthegoalie_1

Mine! #hockey #goalie #nhl #hockeyboys

"This is how I imagine a golden retriever's internal monologue. He's SO excited, I love it," wrote one commenter on Reddit.

"Only reason I gravitated towards the goalie position, other than my hatred of running, was my need to constantly sing to myself. Can relate so hard," wrote another.

A whole thread of soccer, field hockey, and lacrosse goalkeepers, as well as baseball catchers and outfielders, confirmed that this is exactly what they do—monologue, monologue, monologue.

@nickthegoalie_1

I COULD’VE DROPPED MY CROISSANT 🥐 #hockey #goalie #nhl #hockeyboys

It's hard not to smile at the the wholesomeness and hilarity of his self-talk. The singing, the squealing, the trash talk to no one in particular—it's all just so delightful.

@nickthegoalie_1

This video is a lot to take in #hockey #goalie #hockeyboys #nhl

Even people who aren't that into ice hockey are commenting with how much they enjoy his videos. As one person wrote, "Ok fine I’ll watch sports if I can get this insider commentary for every game."

So much fun. Recently, Weston has been using his social media fame to raise money for the Canucks Autism Network in addition to sharing the sport he loves. As of 2024, over 1.1 million has been raised.

Keep following Nick the Goalie on TikTok, YouTube, or Instagram.


This article originally appeared three years ago.

Pets

Man finds a mysterious egg in London, incubates it, and launches a Pixar-worthy journey of love

When Riyadh found an abandoned egg, he had no idea that it would change his life.

Courtesy of Riyadh Khalaf/Instagram (used with permission)

When Riyadh found an egg, he had no idea how much it would change his life.

The story of Riyadh and Spike starts like the opening to a children's book: "One day, a man walking through the city spotted a lone egg where an egg should not have been…" And between that beginning and the story's mostly sweet ending is a beautiful journey of curiosity, care, and connection that has captivated people all over the world.

Irish author Riyadh Khalaf was out walking in London when he came upon an egg. "We just found what we think is a duck egg," Riyadh says in a video showing the milky white egg sitting in a pile of dirt. "Just sitting here on its own. No nest. No other eggs."

Thinking there was no way it was going to survive on its own, Riyadh put the egg in a paper cup cushioned with a napkin and took it home to incubate it. He said he used to breed chickens and pigeons, so he had some experience with birds. Knowing the egg could survive for a while in a dormant state, he ordered an incubator on Amazon, and the journey to see if the egg was viable began.

Even though it was "just an egg," Riyadh quickly became attached, and once it showed signs of life he took on the role of "duck dad." Every day, the egg showed a drastic change in development, and Riyadh's giddy joy at each new discovery—movement, a discernible eye, a beak outline—was palpable. He devoured information on ducks to learn as much as he could about the baby he was (hopefully) about to hatch and care for.

Finally, 28 days later, the shell of the egg began to crack. "I could see this very clear outline of the most gorgeous little round bill," Riyadh said—confirmation that it was, indeed, a duck as he had suspected. But duckling hatching is a process, and one they have to do it on their own. Ducklings instinctively know to turn the egg as it hatches so that the umbilical cord detaches, and the whole process can take up to 48 hours. Riyadh watched and monitored until he finally fell asleep, but at 4:51am, 29 hours after the egg had started to hatch, he awakened to the sound of tweets.

"There was just this little wet alien staring back at me," he said. "It was love at first sight."

Riyadh named his rescue duckling Spike. Once Spike was ready to leave the incubator, he moved into "Duckingham Palace," a setup with all of the things he would need to grow into a healthy, self-sufficient duck—including things that contribute to his mental health. (Apparently ducklings can die from poor mental health, which can happen when they don't have other ducks to interact with—who knew?)

"My son shall not only survive, but he shall thrive!" declared the proud papa.

Riyadh knew it would be impossible for Spike to not imprint on him somewhat, but he didn't want him to see him as his mother. Riyadh set up mirrors so that Spike could see another duckling (even though it was just himself) and used a surrogate stuffed duck to teach him how to do things like eat food with his beak. He used a duck whistle and hid his face from Spike while feeding him, and he played duck sounds on his computer to accustom Spike to the sounds of his species.

"It's just such a fulfilling process to watch a small being learn," said Riyadh.

As Spike grew, Riyadh took him to the park to get him accustomed to the outdoors and gave him opportunities to swim in a small bath. He learned to forage and do all the things a duck needs to do. Throughout, Riyadh made sure that Spike was getting the proper balanced nutrition he needed as well. Check this out:


After 89 days, the day finally came for Spike to leave Riyadh's care and be integrated into a community of his kind "to learn how to properly be a duck." A rehabilitation center welcomed him in and he joined a flock in an open-air facility where he would be able to choose whether to stay or to leave once he became accustomed to flying. Within a few weeks of being at the rehabilitation center, his signature mallard colors developed, marking his transition from adolescence. Spike has been thriving with his flock, and Riyadh was even able to share video of his first flight.

This is the where "And they all lived happily ever after" would be a fitting end to the story, but unfortunately, Spike and his fowl friends are living in trying times. The rehabilitation center was notified by the U.K. government in December of 2024 that the duck flock needed to be kept indoors for the time being to protect them from a bird flu outbreak and keep it from spreading.

Building an entire building for a flock of ducks is not a simple or cheap task, so Riyadh called on his community of "daunties" and "duncles" who had been following Spike's story to help with a fundraiser to build a "Duckingham Palace" for the whole flock. Riyadh's followers quickly raised over £11,000, which made a huge difference for the center's owners to be able to protect Spike and his friends.

All in all, Riyadh and Spike's story is a testament to what can happen when people genuinely care. If Riyadh had left that egg where it was, it may not have made it. If Spike hadn't survived and been moved to the rehab center, the ducks there would be in greater danger of the bird flu due to the costs of building an indoor shelter for them. Despite the ongoing bird flu threat, the story really does have a happy ending.

Thank to Riyadh for sharing Spike's journey with us. (You can follow Riyadh on Instagram here.)