
Right after I finished high school, I needed money, so I thought, "I'll cut hair," because my mom was already in the field. Then, at 16 or 17, I started working. I took a barber course and never stopped. I like it because I work with people; they’re all very different. Before, I didn’t like it, you know? Until I understood that you have to give yourself, be patient, and recognize that everyone has their own experiences. And yeah, it’s manageable.
Some people treat me like a therapist. There are all kinds of stories—people literally telling me their life story even though we just met. I listen. I also worked in malls for a long time, which was... a very normative crowd. Traditional families... It was very different from where I work now, which is more chill.
I thought a lot about changing jobs because when I started my transition, I wanted to be in a comfortable place. So, I left my old job, where I had been for years. I liked it, but I didn’t feel comfortable enough. I looked for this new place because it was more open, you know?
And now, I don’t know, I’m really scared to say I’m trans at the new job... It’s not fear, it’s... I’m just a really insecure person. But I don’t even know, I’ll say it. Like, if they don’t want me there, I’ll pack my things and leave. But it’s more about... not knowing how it will go. Like I said: just do it and see what happens. But I think it’ll be fine. A lot of it depends on me, you know? I have to go there and say it... So it’s more about me than anything else. I think I’ll just go ahead and not stop, because if I stop to think about it, it affects me. Not just this, but everything in my life. It’s automatic.

It took a long time. Even now, I keep to myself a lot. My Instagram doesn’t have anything. I haven’t posted a single picture since my transition. I don’t do any of that. In every aspect—work, friends—I’ve managed to create a safe space where I feel comfortable and respected. But since I started transitioning, with my family, it’s still not fully open.
Even as a kid, I never saw myself as a girl. I used to think... like I was being punished for something in a past life, and I was born a girl to pay for it. When I was little, I always said I was a boy and acted like one. My mom would always say, “No, you’re not a boy.” I remember so many moments when I knew I was a boy, but I was just... shut down, forced to behave a certain way. Like, "This is who you’re going to be," "Who you’re going to marry," all that. So much is imposed on such a small person, you know? And I have a twin sister, which made comparisons so easy. We’re opposites.

On my dad’s side, I’m not very close. But with my mom, it’s really hard. Really hard. She doesn’t accept it, doesn’t support me. There’s no space for a conversation where she listens to me explain things. That doesn’t exist. Our conversations stay on the surface. And that sucks. I wish it wasn’t like that, it could be so much better, but she won’t open up.
I don’t feel at home, even though that house has always been my home. So I don’t feel at home in my own home. It’s uncomfortable, but I think I’ve managed to filter it—like, “This bothers me, but I won’t let it get to me.” Otherwise, it would be like this all the time. But I feel like she’s still holding on to something I don’t see myself as anymore. I think only time will help her understand, process, and respect it. But I think that’s far from happening. Very far. Her mindset is so binary...
That’s what we were talking about—childhood, right? How things are taken away from a child before they even understand, “Oh, this is for boys, this is for girls.” A child doesn’t fully get that. And so much was cut off from me. I remember one birthday, I asked for something super “masculine,” and I got it. But then my mom made me give it back to my aunt. Meanwhile, my sister asked for something totally feminine, and she got to keep hers. Why could my sister have that, but I couldn’t have mine? How does that make sense? I asked for a toy, she asked for a completely different one, and I had to return mine while she kept hers. Why? That’s how it always was—I was always shut down.
So much is denied to a child, and they don’t even understand why. I just wanted that thing because it made me feel comfortable. They take away things that are really important. And then, when you realize, "Wow, I’m trans," so many childhood memories come back, things you remember—even though I don’t remember a lot from my childhood.


I never questioned myself. I thought, “I’m a cis lesbian woman. That’s it.” And I never opened my mind to really understand that being trans, transitioning, goes so much further—it’s such a vast thing to study, gender itself is such a deep topic. That was it for me: when I started looking into it. Because I thought, “Oh, there’s hormones,” but I had no idea how much of a change they make over time. And then I was like, "Oh my God, this is what I want." I wanted body hair, a deeper voice—things I dreamed of having as a kid. But I used to think, "No, I dream of being a boy, but only in another life. In this one, it’s not possible." Then I realized, "Wait, it is possible! And I can do it!" That’s when I started to understand myself and research more. I had a lot of dysphoria as a child, so I started remembering, remembering... and I thought, "Wow, I’m trans."
That said, I didn’t fully identify with masculinity either—it’s not where I want to be, nor with femininity. So I was like, "Okay, then I’m non-binary..." That question you asked about transmasculinity—it’s a lot about how society perceives you. I want to be addressed with masculine pronouns, and in the society we live in, I’m a transmasculine person. Because everything is so binary, you know? But to me, it’s a concept that embraces many genders, and at the same time, I want to abolish gender categories entirely. So for me, it doesn’t work as an umbrella term. Masculinity is just as binary. And fitting all these identities, pronouns, and everything we dream of into language is really hard. It would take years and years to change. So it doesn’t make much sense to me.

I feel like this is just getting started. The information is reaching people faster now. If I had access to this information earlier, I would have realized much sooner. So it’s not that "suddenly everyone is trans"—it’s just that people finally have access. But also, who gets access? Many people don’t identify with their assigned gender but don’t know they’re trans. So it takes time.

I think a lot more minors will be looking for information. When I was 15, I didn’t even think about this stuff. Now I see many trans men starting hormones early or discovering themselves at 16, 14, starting at 18. Back then, I never even questioned who I was in the world.
I think I really started questioning myself when I moved to São Paulo. I was there, alone, with nothing—no friends, no one. Here, I was doing fine, living my life, thinking everything was okay, so I didn’t stop to think about it. I was just working, paying my rent, and living. But then, in São Paulo, I stopped and freaked out, like, “Who am I? What am I doing? What do I want from life?” That’s when I started questioning. Before, I was so busy with everything else that I didn’t even stop to look at myself. And when I finally did, everything came rushing in.
That’s when I decided, “I’m going back to Porto Alegre because I can’t stay alone in this city.” It wasn’t going to work. “Not now, maybe in the future.” And I think going back was the right decision. Even though it was really hard when I got back, I fell into a terrible slump.
That’s when I decided, “I’m going back to Porto Alegre because I can’t stay alone in this city.” It wasn’t going to work. “Not now, maybe in the future.” And I think going back was the right decision. Even though it was really hard when I got back, I fell into a terrible slump.
I also came back because, here, I knew where to go. I felt more at home, you know? I could feel better here. It was more about survival—otherwise, I would’ve lost it in São Paulo. It was better to stay in Porto Alegre, feel okay, and then figure out my life later. And it was good because, once I got back, I confirmed that I was trans. I spent a year in therapy, went back on medication, and started taking care of myself. Before, I was just taking care of other people and not even looking at myself. That’s when I finally said, “I am trans.” Now, I’m prioritizing myself, and that’s really important.
I think being in São Paulo helped me a little. I’d walk down the street and think, “Nobody here knows me, I don’t know anyone.” In Porto Alegre, you walk out, and you see a bunch of people you know. But in São Paulo, I could talk to strangers and say whatever I wanted, you know? They didn’t know me, didn’t know my life. So that helped too. I thought, “I can create a... not a character, but something else, something I feel more comfortable with, and it’s okay because nobody knows me.” It was like, “Now I can start over.” Then I realized I could do the same in Porto Alegre, and it was fine. That helped me a lot. Especially since I was unemployed, without a place to live... I was just like, whatever. But it helped me figure out, “What can I be? What can I show the world?”
I realized, damn, I don’t want to be seen as a girl. It was messing with me... Sure, 90% of the time, people still see me as a cis woman, but I didn’t want to introduce myself in the feminine, didn’t want to say my name... That’s when I thought, “Maybe I want this always.” At first, I regretted moving to São Paulo and coming back, but now I see it as a good thing.
It was really hard when I got back. I asked for my old job back, and I returned. At first, it felt like I had taken this big step by moving away, and then I came back to the same old things—it felt like two steps back. It took me a long time to accept that, no, that time was for me to take care of myself. It wasn’t a mistake. I needed that. And honestly, it was good to have such a rough time because, eventually, it passed. That’s when I started looking for help and starting over.
Now, telling this story, it sounds like it was easy, but it wasn’t.

A while ago, I would’ve been freaking out about certain things. But now? It’s like everything is calmer. Now, I can do things without carrying that weight. Before, all I could think about was, “I’m not on T, I’m not on T, I’m not on T…” and it was holding me back so much. Not in terms of daily life, but mentally—it was messing with me a lot. But now, I don’t have to think about it anymore. I’m on T. Now, I have room to grow in other areas. And I think the future will be even better.
Before, I couldn’t think about anything else. I’d just keep researching, scrolling, obsessing. I spent a whole year just consuming information about this, looking at results, watching tons of content. Now? Now, I have time to explore other things. And that feels really good.

I’m just focused on the present. That’s it. Before, I was always thinking about the future, future, future. Now, I’m like… whatever. I don’t make a lot of plans because I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment. I’m just focusing on now. Maybe when I feel more stable, I’ll start thinking about the future again. But for now, I just want to be okay with myself. Otherwise, I can’t do anything.
Before, I was so unhappy, didn’t feel whole... I felt like trash. So how was I supposed to think about anything else if I wasn’t even comfortable with myself? It doesn’t work like that. Right now, my only goal is to be okay with myself. Because if I’m okay, I’ll have the energy and strength to do other things, to achieve things, to go after what I want.

I see more people coming out as trans, but at the same time, it still feels like a closed-off thing. But I think every city is like that. It’s getting better. Here, people are very ignorant, very binary, and sometimes just straight-up rude. It’s pretty dangerous. People aren’t as open.

Sometimes you think you’re in a safe space, but you’re not. You’re really not.

I haven’t experienced transphobia, but lesbophobia? For sure. Not physical aggression, more verbal. Sometimes it’s so subtle you almost don’t notice it, but then you catch it... Like getting called names on the street. But honestly, I just let it go. It happens.
One time, a guy said something to me—I don’t even remember what, it was a long time ago. And I cursed him out, told him to fuck off, to shut up, whatever. Kept walking. I was with some friends, we were going home. Turns out, he followed us for a long time, and we didn’t notice. Then, at some point, he broke a bottle and came at me, saying he was going to cut my throat. He was completely out of his mind, super high. And I still talked back to him, which made him even angrier. Then my brother-in-law stepped in, told me to shut up, and apologized to the guy, trying to calm him down. And the guy just kept yelling... My brother-in-law kept saying, “Calm down, it was a misunderstanding.” At the time, everyone was pissed at me, like, “You don’t do that.” And yeah, they were right. But I didn’t know he was going to follow us just because I told him to shut up. What if I had been alone? Now, I know not to do that when I’m with other people because it puts them at risk too. But I never expected that to happen.
Here, anything can set someone off.
I don’t care.
I don’t care.

Sometimes people don’t even try to understand. They don’t research, they don’t try to learn—they just start talking nonsense. When I first told my sister, she was like, “No, I don’t get it. To me, if you’re born a woman, you’re a woman; if you’re born a man, you’re a man.” Yesterday, we were talking, and she had a completely different perspective. And I thought, “She must have looked it up,” because she was actually making sense, defending me.
She knows I’m on testosterone. My whole family knows. But they still don’t fully believe it, you know? I think once they start seeing physical changes, it’ll click. People’s minds are so binary. They can understand that I’m trans, but they don’t really process it yet.
She knows I’m on testosterone. My whole family knows, but they still don’t fully believe it, you know? I think only when I start having physical changes, then things will begin to shift. People’s minds are so binary, so binary. They can understand that I’m trans, they even accept it, but they don’t really make an effort… Like, do you see me as masculine, or just because I’m saying it? But I think it takes time, you know? Just like my sister needed her own time to research, to learn, to understand, I think that will happen with my mom, and eventually, with the rest of the people around me.
I use he/him pronouns and identify as a non-binary person. I really questioned whether I was a trans man, but I don’t want to leave one box—especially one that caused so much suffering, and will continue to, because our lives are like that—just to step into another box that I also don’t fully agree with. And I don’t see myself as 100% a man, you know? Maybe in the future, that could change, but right now, I can’t. I’m not completely a man, nor completely a woman, but I feel much more masculine. For me, “woman” is… ugh, even just the word gives me a feeling… I don’t want it. I don’t want it, you know? I’m not.
Even with my sister, my mom—because they have such a binary view—I don’t say I’m non-binary trans. I can’t even have a conversation to explain that gender is imposed by society, you know? I see myself as a boy, I really do, and I think in their minds, I’m a trans man. In everyone’s mind, really... But no. I also couldn’t be a non-binary trans person while using and feeling comfortable with feminine terms, because that never felt right.
It’s much easier to talk to people in a binary way because that’s how they understand things in their heads.

In the future, I think there will be more trans people occupying more spaces, you know? Because right now, there aren’t many here. You barely see us. In the places we go—not counting nightlife, because obviously, you’ll find trans people in those spaces—but at work and in other areas, it’s rare. And that’s really sad because if we’re not here, then where are we? There are a lot of trans people in this city. I think that will change a lot. I hope so.
Tales Ferre, 1997
Non-binary transmasculine, he/him
2 months on HRT
@talesferre
February 2020, Porto Alegre (RS), Brazil
Non-binary transmasculine, he/him
2 months on HRT
@talesferre
February 2020, Porto Alegre (RS), Brazil
ser trans portrays and creates space for trans, travesti, and non-binary people to be the protagonists of their own stories, rethinking a Brazilian trans archive.
A project conceived by Gabz 404.
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