You've been in your career for decades. You've escaped the lean graduate years, clawed your way into earning some measure of respect in the workplace and though you still earn less than your male colleagues, you are at least accepted for who you are. You've built a social life both with out of work friends and colleagues, many of whom you have known for years by this point. They're a nice bunch - bit of a latent transphobia problem, but it never gets directed at you thankfully. The events of your childhood are a distant memory that rarely feels relevant. You made it. You're free. All that nightmarish awfulness is over, and you can put it all behind you.
You come into work one day and are told that from now on you must only use the male facilities.
You've never used them. Why would you? That would be ridiculous and nonsensical. Your colleagues would ask if you're having a laugh.
Wait, you...aren't? Seriously?
Wait, does that mean...you're one of them?
The temperature at work changes overnight. Your social life detonates. Everyone seems guarded around you. Tensions are suddenly running high. Nobody jokes anymore. Everyone is always whispering whenever you are just out of earshot. There is an unspoken 'but...' at the end of so many sentences. Everyone is waiting for you to say something. You have no choice - you have to eventually. It isn't how you'd have wanted to do this, but you might as well try and regain the initiative. You talk about your experiences; about what it's been like all these years.
You notice the little comments. The microagressions, now everpresently needling. You don't get invited to socials anymore - not in any glaring way, but over time it's starkly obvious.
You try and talk to people. It gets weird. You ask why you never get invited to socials anymore.
"Oh no, nobody has a problem. We just don't feel like it anymore."
"Oh I don't have a problem with any of that but it's just...you know. Different. Sorry."
One day, you're on a call-out. Some drunk dickhead tries to grope you. Your team would normally have your back, but nobody moves to stop him.
You try to bring it up later. Nobody wants to talk about it.
You start getting passed over for promotions. Eh it's fine, you have a job at least.
Of course you're the person picked for redundancy.
You apply for new position after new position.
You mysteriously never seem to get hired, despite being perfectly qualified and with plenty of experience. Weird - you were straight in the door for your last job a decade ago.
But that was before your life was detonated by an arbitrary court ruling funded by a multi-millionaire and an army of lawyers.