Remember being a child and saying bad things? Sometimes your parents would threaten to put soap in your mouth, or even hot sauce? This didn’t stop me then so I am unsure why I would think it would stop me now. As a kid I would eat the soap or swallow the hot sauce, showing my parents that there were no consequences for my words. As an adult, I am learning I haven’t changed much. Saturday night I was out and after drinking wine and pre-gaming with my girls, the night was only beginning. I was already pretty drunk, but I went overboard when a frat boy said I wouldn’t drink whiskey with him straight. He clearly didn’t know who he was talking to. After downing much of the bottle, I was Alice falling down the rabbit hole into my very own Drunkenland.

Full of liquid courage, I made eyes with one of the most beautiful guys on campus (who I had been lucky enough to be in a group project with). Instantly I flew over to him. Hugging all over him and hanging all over his perfect masculine frame. He asked how I was doing and I felt it coming up, all the words I should have kept in. I explained to him that I was great now that I was in his arms, but I had lost my friends so I needed him to help me look for them (I hadn’t really lost my girls, I abandoned them to run over to him). So after I walked him in the opposite direction my friends were in, I started spilling it all: about how perfect he is, how I wanted to kiss him, and how I wanted to—well I’m going to keep this PG, so let’s leave it at that.

Sober Gigi was in the back of my mind screaming NOOOOOOOO, but it was too late. Everything had spurted out of my mouth like a hose spraying down his perfect body on a hot day. Shortly after my run-in with him, I spotted another boy I was madly in love with. I knew he had a girlfriend, but she seemed to be MIA. So, I went up to him. He told me how glad he was to see that I came out and instantly I was a school girl alone with her crush at recess. We talked for what seemed to be forever. Everyone in the party danced around us, but we stood still, quietly trading secrets and connecting. Eventually, I spotted my girls behind him, so I knew I had to go because they have given me the look, the ‘Gigi, he has a girlfriend’ look. I wanted to make out with him so badly, and honestly if it wasn’t for my girls, my tongue would have been down his throat and probably down another place, too.

So what does drunk me do? I actually start making out with his cheek. Yes. I know. At this time, my lipstick was everywhere so I walked away with my girls to the bathroom to freshen up. I continued my night with my freshly applied lipstick. I met another guy who was hot, in the scruffy bad boy kind of way. We hit it off and he let me know right away that he would be coming home with me. I disclosed to him the fact that I am transgender, which he did not believe. But eventually, he understood that I wasn’t messing with him. He said “Well, at least you can’t get pregnant” and that was that. We hardcore made out against a fridge, very romantic. As the night went on, I met more guys and did and said more things I regretted when I woke up the next morning.

Sunday morning I got up to shower and all I could think about was the previous night and how my mouth kept running like a faucet. Everything had overflown and flooded. It was all too much. As I was washed my curly hair, I looked and saw the soap. Reflecting on my actions, I thought to myself I guess I better wash my mouth out with soap.