I am a trans woman and sex worker in Mexico City. I have been practicing sex work since I was 14 years old. The object that means a lot to me is a garment that a client gave me to cover myself. But more than that, it was the context of violence that I suffered at that time.
When this happened it was on a Saturday morning at dawn. I did a job at 6 in the morning. Unfortunately, when I said to a taxi driver “What’s up? Give me a ride” he told me “Where to? I said “Take me to Tlalpan – I was in Revolución in Mexico City. I was going to Tlalpan, Calzada de Tlalpan in Mexico City.
But I said “A ride right?” And he said “Yes.” And when I got in the taxi he said “So, not even a lick, not even a blow job?” I said “Let’s see, stop your car and let’s see, tell me, really, do you want a service or do you want to give me a ride for a service? Be clear. But honestly I haven’t earned money, I haven’t worked, and you know what? I better go “
The moment I turn around I feel him hit my back–because he attacked me from behind-. Two blows with a monkey wrench, the one you use for the gas tank. I felt the strikes, the fury of the man. I don’t know what I did to him, I don’t know what happened, I was clear headed, I was cool, but my question was why so much violence?, why hit me so much, why so much fury?
I tried to defend myself and the only thing in reach were his feet. So I grabbed his feet as if to say: Why are you hitting me? He comes at me again, but now he hits me in the ribs. Two strikes to the ribs that thank God did not break me, because I’m big boned. I’m thick and rough, so fortunately I did not have any problem, but yes, I had long-term injuries. More than anything, I was disappointed in life, totally depressed. Because I thought, Ok, what happened?, what did I do to this man that he would be so violent?
Then a very nice man- I don’t know where he came from because about 3, 4, 5 men passed by and I yelled “Help”. But when I said “help” I meant Help me get up or help me get a taxi, or something to go home. That was all I asked of them. Maybe people thought when I said “help”, that they would help me catch the the assailant.
What the man basically did was say: “Cover yourself, girl. I’ll cover you”. And he gave me this, that for me was like his arms, as if he had hugged me, because at that moment I felt very vulnerable and needed help.
I am a trans woman and sex worker in Mexico City. I have been practicing sex work since I was 14 years old. The object that means a lot to me is a garment that a client gave me to cover myself. But more than that, it was the context of violence that I suffered at that time.
When this happened it was on a Saturday morning at dawn. I did a job at 6 in the morning. Unfortunately, when I said to a taxi driver “What’s up? Give me a ride” he told me “Where to? I said “Take me to Tlalpan – I was in Revolución in Mexico City. I was going to Tlalpan, Calzada de Tlalpan in Mexico City.
But I said “A ride right?” And he said “Yes.” And when I got in the taxi he said “So, not even a lick, not even a blow job?” I said “Let’s see, stop your car and let’s see, tell me, really, do you want a service or do you want to give me a ride for a service? Be clear. But honestly I haven’t earned money, I haven’t worked, and you know what? I better go “
The moment I turn around I feel him hit my back–because he attacked me from behind-. Two blows with a monkey wrench, the one you use for the gas tank. I felt the strikes, the fury of the man. I don’t know what I did to him, I don’t know what happened, I was clear headed, I was cool, but my question was why so much violence?, why hit me so much, why so much fury?
I tried to defend myself and the only thing in reach were his feet. So I grabbed his feet as if to say: Why are you hitting me? He comes at me again, but now he hits me in the ribs. Two strikes to the ribs that thank God did not break me, because I’m big boned. I’m thick and rough, so fortunately I did not have any problem, but yes, I had long-term injuries. More than anything, I was disappointed in life, totally depressed. Because I thought, Ok, what happened?, what did I do to this man that he would be so violent?
Then a very nice man- I don’t know where he came from because about 3, 4, 5 men passed by and I yelled “Help”. But when I said “help” I meant Help me get up or help me get a taxi, or something to go home. That was all I asked of them. Maybe people thought when I said “help”, that they would help me catch the the assailant.
What the man basically did was say: “Cover yourself, girl. I’ll cover you”. And he gave me this, that for me was like his arms, as if he had hugged me, because at that moment I felt very vulnerable and needed help.
Soy una mujer trans trabajadora sexual en la Ciudad de México. Vengo ejerciendo el trabajo sexual aproximadamente desde los 14 años. En la actualidad sigo ejecutando el trabajo sexual.
El objeto que para mí significa bastante y muchísimo es una prenda que un cliente me regaló para que me cubriera. Pero más que me cubriera, era más bien el contexto de la violencia que había sufrido en ese momento.
Cuando pasó esto fue un sábado en la mañana, bueno… en la madrugada. Yo hice un trabajo a las 6 de la mañana. Desafortunadamente cuando le dije a un taxista “¿Qué onda? Dame un raite” él me dice “¿A dónde?” Le digo “Llévame a Tlalpan –me encontraba en Revolución en la Ciudad de México. Iba para Tlalpan, Calzada de Tlalpan de la Ciudad de México.
Pero le dije “Un raite ¿verdad?” Y me dice “Sí”. Y ya cuando voy en el taxi me dice “¿Qué, ni una chupadita, ni una mamadita?” Yo le dije “A ver, para tu carro y a ver, dime, la verdad ¿Quieres un servicio o quieres darme un raite por un servicio? O sea, seme claro, pero la verdad no he ganado, no he trabajado y ¿Sabes qué? Mejor me retiro.”
Al momento yo de darme la vuelta siento unos golpes en mi espalda –porque me atacó por la malagueña-. Dos golpes con perico, con el perico de gas. Y posteriormente eso me hizo… me hizo bajar la guardia y dije “¿Qué pasa?”
Yo sentí en ese momento los golpes, la furia del hombre. No sé qué le hice, no sé qué pasó, o sea, yo venía en mi juicio, venía súper padre, pero mi pregunta era ¿Por qué tanta violencia, por qué tanto golpe, por qué tanta furia? Ése fue mi, ésa fue mi pregunta, mis preguntas que en ese momento ¿Por qué tanta furia, por qué tanto coraje?
Al momento lo que hice fue quererme defender y lo único que encontré a la mano fueron sus pies. Entonces agarro los pies como diciendo ¿Por qué me pegas?
Él me vuelve a regresar otra vez, pero ahora me pega en las costillas. Entonces fueron dos golpes en las costillas que gracias a dios no me reventó, porque soy de hueso colorado, gruesa, tosca, que afortunadamente no tuve ningún problema, pero, sí tuve lesiones ya a largo tiempo. Más que nada estaba desilusionada de la vida, totalmente depresiva ¿Por qué? Porque lo que hice era… ¿qué pasa, qué le hice a este hombre para que él de esa manera tomará violencia hacia mí?
Un señor buenísima onda, no sé de dónde salió, porque pasaron como 3, 4, 5 hombres y yo les dije “Ayuda”. Pero yo cuando me refería a “ayuda” me refería a Ayúdeme a levantarme o ayúdeme a agarrar un taxi, o algo para que me fuera a mi casa. Era lo único que les pedía. A lo mejor la gente interpretaba cuando yo decía “ayuda”, que me ayudaran a agarrar al ratero, al asaltante, no sé qué, al golpeador.
El señor básicamente lo que hizo fue: “Cúbrete, muchacha. Yo te cubro”. Y me regaló esto, que para mí fueron como sus brazos, que me hayan abrazado, porque en ese momento yo me sentía muy vulnerable y necesitaba la ayuda.
