It was my last night in London before returning to Australia. I was in full makeup and a dress when my female friends took me out dancing at an alternative hub that has always prided itself on being an accepting place. We danced and drank and shouted incoherent enthusiasms to each other. But as the gin and tonics settled in my bladder, I felt my anxiety building. In 15 years of visiting Britain I have been presenting feminine in public without any problem, including using women’s bathrooms. But now I needed to piss, and I was afraid. ...And there she...