As a nonbinary student at St. Thomas, finding a bathroom I’m comfortable in is nearly an impossible task.

I walk into the “women’s” bathroom and I feel that I’m merely a member of the stereotypical gender binary. The sign of the woman wearing a triangle dress which marks the gender-specific bathrooms sets off an emergency siren within me.

My mind wants me to flee from the identifying women inside the bathroom that I can’t relate to. I am not like them, but I am simply perceived as one of them. The changing tables placed on the wall are a constant reminder of my motherly duties—but it only reminds me of the children I will not be having.

The men’s bathroom is no place of sanctuary either. Though I see myself in the square shaped figure plastered on the bathroom door, I do not belong.

The way I see it, I don’t have a gender—my biology does little to determine that. I am everything and nothing rolled into one.

I am an androgynous being (at least I try to be) who often feels unsafe trekking through life in my own skin, and I want nothing more than to feel safe in a space where I—and others like me—can pee comfortably or pop that Mount Vesuvius of a pimple with ease.

At St. Thomas, we have a cumulative list of all the gender neutral bathrooms on campus. I find the heart in that, but when I have to tinkle, I don’t love the thought of taking an extra few minutes to locate my safe spots on campus.

I basically live my entire life in the Anderson Student Center—I’m a tour guide and I often joke with families that I essentially live in the basement of O’Shaughnessy Educational Center, or, more affectionately known as, the TommieMedia newsroom. Really though, if I’m not in my cozy apartment, I’m venturing throughout the ASC, but I have yet to discover a gender neutral bathroom.

It’s impossible to find a bathroom that calls to me when nature calls, because there is none.

Ideally, I’d love nothing more than to find a gender neutral bathroom that mirrors what traditional bathrooms look like. Picture this: a row of stalls, a wall of sinks, a slew of urinals… a space for everyone and anyone who feels like an outcast in the movie of life.

They should be easy to find, quick to spot and everywhere.

A transformation like this would make me so incredibly free from my own self-doubts that cloud my gender identity and insecurities.

A commitment like that on campus would make me more committed to my true authentic self and to wanting people to know the real me—the true Jos—in a space where I can pee in peace, in comfortability and where I can feel the safest in my skin.

Jos Morss can be reached at mors7544@stthomas.edu.