In his biography, “The Naked Civil Servant,” Quentin Crisp describes the makeup he chooses to wear as his “war paint.” I first came across this intriguing piece of text during my junior year at Hofstra, when I decided that I absolutely needed to take another class with Dr. Sulcer, who was and always will be my favorite part of my undergraduate education.

The class he was teaching that year was titled “Gay and Lesbian Literature” and while I’m sure it seemed off-putting to some, to me, it would provide me not only with another semester of Dr. Sulcer’s mastery, but also what I now see as an invaluable wealth. Taking this course exposed me to an entirely different set of issues that millions of people face, and helped me to understand how I relate to other humans in general.

Back to Crisp. His notion struck a bell in my brain, so much so that I still remember the text more than ten years later. War paint. A type of armor. A form of protection. A show of ferocity. So many ways that showed me people liken their lives to a battle–one where they’re not only being attacked, but the attacks are inescapable.

Whenever I come across a tough spot, or an issue that sparks controversy, I like to ask myself a “what if?” What if it were me on the other side of that fence? What if I were a part of the minority?

What if identifying as gay was the “norm” and identifying as straight was seen as “unnatural?” What if I were born into a body I truly did not feel connected to? I covet my alone time and my most valuable possessions are my thoughts, so these kinds of questions paved the way for a LOT of interesting quiet time. And the conclusions I came to are conclusions that echo during times of “controversy.”

I typed that last word in quotations since I believe it is the wrong word to describe an issue that’s been popping up all over social media lately. In fact, I believe this “issue” shouldn’t be an issue at all.

I’m referring to the idea that people are finding a cause for alarm that individuals identifying as transgender may choose to use a public restroom that doesn’t align with their physical biology.

If I’m going to be flat-out honest, it kind of makes me insane with anger. This is why: One of the most valuable things I’ve learned is that only an individual can label himself or herself. No one can do it for you. We all have, of course — the guy you knew in college who made out with other guys…of course he was GAY, right? ALL girls are bisexual, right? Being into a BDSM lifestyle OBVIOUSLY means you were abused at some point in your life, right?

But when you think about it, that’s all wrong–really wrong. Who are we to stick a label onto someone who hasn’t decided for himself? And I don’t mean that everyone deserves a label or even that labels are a good thing–personally, I dislike them. I’m using it as a blanket term to describe ALL kinds of identities, not just one or two.

If we’re gonna go down the road of biology, let’s hop in and start driving. We all gotta pee. It’s inevitably going to happen when we’re outside of our homes. So, because we’re not wild animals ((at least not most of us)), we’re gonna find the closest facility, do what has to be done, wash hands, and cue credits. In fact, I’m willing to bet most of us spend the LEAST amount of time possible in a public restroom, because again, if we’re gonna be real, they’re pretty disgusting.

So let me ask you: As you’re doing your thing, are you ever wondering what kind of genitals the person has in the stall next to you? Has this thought ever really crossed your mind while you’re peeing?

If it scares you that much, do you think there might be a deeper problem there?

Let me describe a cartoon I’ve seen re-posted several times. In it, we see a mother and daughter at a restroom sink next to a row of stalls, gaping at the doorway. The door is swinging open and a very sketchtastic, creeptastic dude in a trench coat is entering, carrying a camera. “Relax lady,” he’s saying. “I’m transgendered.”

I’m not going to get into all of the ways I found this cartoon highly offensive. I’m going to address what I gathered as its point: Letting individuals who are transgender into any restroom they like gives perverts and pigs the opportunity to spy on women and/or children.

Let’s be clear about two things: 1. It’s likely that most people entering restrooms are going because, well, they have to go. 2. If his or her intent is to spy and/or be disgusting, a pervy or creepy person is going to enter whatever bathroom he or she chooses.

I mentioned earlier that I got my degree at Hofstra. I will tell you that I chose to never use the restrooms in the student center. The reason why? Public safety briefs. I cannot count how many public safety briefs I read explaining that non-matriculated men were discovered hiding in the women’s restroom and removed from campus.

Disgusting people do not need to use the issue of transgender to do what they’re going to do. The only way to keep them out is to assign public safety officers to every public restroom in the entire world.

On another note, if you think about it, the label on the restroom door is a suggestion–a heeded one, of course, but no one actually says women can’t use the men’s room or men can’t use the women’s room. I have been with my best friend on many an occasion when she’s headed straight into the men’s room after realizing there’s no damn way she’s waiting on the line at the women’s room. She’s never been arrested. Or fined. Or even reprimanded. There are no genital scanners at the entrance of each door, so really, who says you can’t?

I also get it that people are concerned about their children’s safety, and rightfully so. But how many parents of younger children do you know who let their kids go to the bathroom in public alone? You’ve probably seen it–a mom bringing her young son into the bathroom with her or maybe a dad waiting outside the door to the ladies’ room, nervously peeking inside. What about older kids or teenagers? Think about the last time you were in a restroom at a movie theater–chances are likely there’s been a gaggle of teenagers waiting on line in the bathroom together.

I’m not insinuating assaults in bathrooms don’t happen–they do, and it’s awful, and no one should condone that. But no one should use this as an excuse to bar women from the ladies’ room, or men from the men’s room. Because at that point, this person has decided on an identity, and no one has a right to tell them otherwise.

It’s likely these people–people–have spent quite some time on a personal battlefield, grappling with all kinds of “what ifs?” and wondering what kind of armor they might need. Can’t we just let them pee in peace?