Think about this for a minute. Imagine an opposite scenario. A deplorable young woman moves to San Diego, the weather is wonderful, the beaches are wonderful. She makes a friend on Meetup, who invites her to a poetry reading. She thinks, well I don’t read much poetry but warriors have been poets, and all hymns are poems, so I’ll give it a whirl. She gets there, and after a while realizes that every person there is non-binary in some way, most are vegans, posters of Castro and Che and Mao garnish the walls, and then on the video screen appears Rosa DeLauro, who is a long-time member of the national womyn poet society that this meeting is connected with. How does she react? One of two ways: either she puts down her drink, blurts BULLS##T! and leaves, or she sits there, listens to the rest of the meeting, and then writes a description of it to all of her Meetup people, instantly culling the lionesses from the hyenas. She wouldn’t break down and cry, she wouldn’t go through anxiety attacks, she wouldn’t experience weeks of depression. That is a major difference between us and them.
I could see her staying there out of curiosity. “What makes these people tick?”