“Darthés is our abusive father, our brother, our abusive friend”

Darthés is our abusive father, our abusive brother, our abusive friend. That's why we feel he didn't just abuse Thelma, that's why he has such a profound impact on us as a society.

December 14, 2018

By Say Sacayán*

Illustrations: Charo Roque

Darthés is our abusive father, our abusive brother, our abusive friend. That's why we feel he didn't just abuse Thelma, that's why it has such a profound impact on us as a society.

I suffered several instances of abuse and rape: forced penetration. My first abuse was at age 8 and was within my family, although I still haven't been able to identify my abuser. It took many years of therapy. The other one was at age 12. It was also within my family: abuse by an uncle. In this instance, I defended myself and told my mother, who said that perhaps I was mistaken.

In my case, I'm sharing this because I also connect it to the transphobia I experience when someone denies my identity as a trans man or directly calls me a sexist pig. It's the same transphobia that killed my sister Diana, and these insults put me in the same category as those who abused and violated me throughout my life. They're judging all transmasculinities by the same standard.

At 12 years old, due to depression, I started using drugs and began hanging out in different circles where there were many boys who were always trying to take advantage of everyone. We did drugs and many unknown "friends" would come around. I was always strong, but even so, a guy raped me when we were hanging out at the jukebox in a pool hall on Rafaela Street in Laferrere (Buenos Aires Province).

We'd hang out there with the trans women, and sometimes they'd leave with a client, and I'd be left alone. Once, one of the clients offered to take me home because the girls were taking a while, and I agreed. I got in his car, and maybe that's why I kept quiet.

When I wanted to recover from drugs and no longer lived at home, I received lodging from a woman who was super loving and wanted to take care of me.

This friend's brother started abusing me in varying degrees. First, he forcibly kissed me. One night, I was sleeping in the girls' room and woke up to find him inserting his fingers into me. I still remember an indescribable level of pain and not understanding what was happening. I tried to stop him and tell him what he was doing, explaining that his sister was giving me shelter and that I could cause her more problems.

He forced me out of the room and started groping me and sucking on me. I couldn't stop him. Outside the room was the kitchen, where the other brother lived. Amidst silent struggles, the brother woke up and left.

A few days later, we were at home and had already eaten dinner. I went to the bathroom—back in the suburbs, bathrooms used to be outside the house and far away—and when I came out, he came rushing in. He covered my mouth and dragged me to the back. Not into the bathroom, but to the side. We struggled, and with one hand he covered my mouth and with the other he pulled down my shorts and forced himself on me. I remember feeling a strange pain against a wall.

Everything was a jumbled mess, and it was hard to get out of that situation. I defended myself and managed to get him to let go by biting him. I left that house that same night. When I told my friend what her brother had done to me, she said he'd done it to other girls, but she didn't see it as something innocent.

There were always instances of abuse in my family. They were always kept silent, and I respected that because I understand that I would be revictimizing other abused people who can't speak about it yet.

Trans people have historically suffered all kinds of violence, abuse, and rape throughout our lives. To that, we must add social abandonment, which ultimately destroys us. We come from these places and we are resilient. Some of us, despite everything, survive, empower ourselves, and want to occupy political spaces. And that's when the aggression and attempts at discipline begin. As Diana and Lohana Berkins said: the arguments they use to remove us from these spaces are tied to our identity.

Trans activist. Coordinator of the Anti-Discrimination Liberation Movement (MAL)

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