The moment the neon lights turn red, about a dozen dancers rush onto the floor in the heights of Rio. Lined up, they march in step, folding their arms to the beat of the music. Jenny, a tall 27-year-old redhead, watches the scene while leaning against a pillar. “It’s voguing. A dance typical of the transgender community, but also the gay and lesbian communities.” She discovered this movement five years ago. At the time, her birth name was masculine. Now, she is living her truth as a trans woman, and anyone can find her by searching Travestis Acompanhantes.
“I did everything to the extreme—wore heels that were too high and skirts that were too short. It was the only place where I felt free to flirt.” Since then, the young woman has switched back to jeans—which are more comfortable—and has found true love. “The result of a long quest.” Proudly, she shows a photo on her phone of Thomas, her partner of eight months.
Family Support and Friends’ Prejudices
“Born a boy, I always knew I was a woman. My parents knew too, and they supported me.” She doesn’t remember suffering because of her situation. “I was protected by those around me. When I read stories on forums, I felt like I was living in a different reality.” After earning her vocational degree in her home town, she arrived in Rio with two large duffel bags in her hands. “I had two obsessions: living authentically as a girl and earning money.”
Jenny discovered loneliness in a 100-square-foot student room in Rio. “I fantasized about a massive metropolis with thousands of strangers. Everything was smaller than I thought; I kept running into the same people.” She moved to Rio, but that feeling didn’t leave her. “I spent nights without sleeping; I felt sick to my stomach.” She was convinced she would end up alone, seen as “too abnormal” by others.
During her five years studying history in the big city, the student made several attempts at dating. “I was optimistic, but I ended up broken.” The first hurdle: the prejudices of some of her friends. “They felt like transgender people didn’t have the same sexuality or the same way of dating as everyone else.” Some asked her if there were specific apps for people in her situation. “It wasn’t done with bad intentions, but it was hurtful.”
Inappropriate questions piled up: Was she looking for another transgender person? Did she prefer men or women? Was the sex life of people “like her” normal? “At first, I tried to be a teacher and explained the situation clearly: I just wanted a normal relationship. I wanted to wake up with someone in the morning, share a coffee and breakfast, just as much as I wanted anything related to sex.”
“I got to the point where I was jealous of my girlfriends, for whom everything was simple,” she recalls. After class, the group would wander through late-night bars in the heart of Barra da Tijuca. At that time, Jenny was starting to wear feminine clothing. “They flirted lightheartedly, while I was paralyzed with anxiety. Would people notice I was a boy?” Because of this mental block, she never tried anything. Every time someone looked at her, a latent fear of being judged and mocked gave her stomach cramps. “I lived vicariously through others; I never dared to make the first move.”
One evening, she was insulted outside a bar. It took her three days to recover. Jenny started hormone replacement therapy. My body began to change, and I decided to join dating sites. Maybe the virtual world would help break the block I had.”
She faced a dilemma: should she mention she was transgender right away when flirting? “I split the difference. I joined Tinder, where I didn’t mention anything, but also OkCupid, which has a reputation for being more open. On there, I specified that I was trans.” On OkCupid, she met three people she had flings with. Her lovers had neither prejudices nor strange fantasies, “but it never turned into a serious relationship.”
“In the end, it was when I got fed up with all of it to focus on my teaching exams that things changed.” One weekend, she headed to the capital to go dancing with a friend. Thomas was there, interested in this emerging art form. The next step: gender-affirming surgery, which will allow her to transition physically—the final trace of her masculinity. It will take place in Thailand next year.