Yes, cautiously

You want to make sure the man is telling the truth before you just open the door. "Tell me the full name on my photo ID."

The man groans but plays along. "Linnea Larsson. Blond hair, blue eyes. Age 21. Height 170 centimeters. Open the door."

You suppose any number of people could know that much about you, but it's unlikely any random person would just come by to claim to have been you. Still, you want to be at least fairly sure.

"When the Great Shift happened, which room were you in?"

The man let out a sound that sounded almost like a growl. "I was still in bed. Wearing the pink nightdress. God, woman you are beginning to annoy me. I've come to claim something of mine, so let me in. Now."

The man's tone offered no room for negotiation. And you have to admit: if he used to live here then he should be allowed to access his things. Right?

Releasing the lock, you pull open the door to meet the man who used to be the woman you are now. You have no idea what to expect, but for some reason you're anxiously excited as the man turns to regard you.

He takes a long lingering look at you from head to foot and it takes a lot of effort to avoid squirming under his focused gaze.

What must he be thinking, seeing you in his old body? Living in his house as if it's your own. Pleasuring yourself with his toys.

Acutely aware of the fact that he used to inhabit your body, you can't help but feel like his eyes can see everything about you. He knows every inch of your body, more intimately even than you do.

"Hmph," he says simply, and pushes past you into the house, already ignoring you.