It didn't matter. By taking exception, I resisted again the intimation that I am defined by this. I'm mad at him for saddling me with this new identity that it feels sometimes as though I will never quite be able to shake. It's factual, at least, which is more than I can say about other ways I have been defined by those who don't know me. That's it, you know.
Facts make things easier.
Acknowledge the facts or you can never make any progress. Denying the facts will only postpone the inevitable. Facts make things real. Good then - we'll stick to the facts. Viewing and reading just a little bit one sees that there's something really odd going on.