‘I discovered myself as a man, as a father and as a trans’, says entrepreneur – 08/11/2023 – Equilíbrio

Leonardo Medeiros has a 20-year-old daughter, but will celebrate only his fifth Father’s Day this Sunday (13). He came out as a trans man in May 2018, when he started to be called a father by his daughter, Camila, also trans.

Medeiros, 39, lives in Palhoça, in the metropolitan region of Florianópolis, where he owns a print shop. His mother Elisa (“an entrepreneur in the cooking business”) and his daughter (“battling to be an artist”) live with him.

In this statement, he recalls the sexual violence he suffered at age 18, talks about the difficulty in assimilating his daughter’s decision to transition gender and tells what he has done to become a good father.

I felt different from girls during childhood, my way was completely masculine. I was born in Bagé (RS) in 1984, so my adolescence took place in the 1990s. I suffered a lot of bullying because I didn’t behave the way society wanted a girl to behave.

By the end of elementary school, I realized that I liked girls, but I didn’t know why and nobody talked about it. When adolescence came, I discovered a group of girls who liked girls. There was a farce [risos].

At that time, I had a very prejudiced stepfather. There were many conflicts, and he ended up kicking me out of the house. I was 16 years old. About that, I want to emphasize that my relationship with my mother —now a widow— is wonderful, we managed to reconcile.

After leaving home, my life became troubled. I went crazy, drank a lot, used marijuana. When I was 18 years old, a guy, who already pursued me at clubs, raped me more than once. As he threatened me, I was afraid to report him. I got pregnant.

At that time, I knew trans women, but not transmasculinity, I didn’t know it existed. I felt different, but I didn’t know I was a trans man. I identified as a lesbian.

I didn’t want to take medicine to abort, but I also didn’t want to show the pregnancy, so, in addition to tying up my belly, I wore a sweatshirt to hide it — this was in the middle of summer, it was very hot in those days in Bagé.

In March 2003, my sister took me to the hospital, where I suffered obstetric violence: the nurse cursed me because I didn’t want the child — I had decided, together with my family, to give her up for adoption. I rejected all that and today I don’t blame myself for it: I had been raped and I was in a panic. Camila has absolutely nothing to do with all this pain, does she? Oh obviously the name wasn’t Camila [tinha um nome masculino àquela altura].

My birthday is March 12th, the day she was born. Two days later, when I was already home, my breasts started pouring out during the shower. I went to sleep and dreamed of Camila. Then we returned to the hospital and brought her back. At home, my whole family helped to take care of the child, she was very well received.

I was 19 years old and, upon assuming motherhood, my adult phase began. I had a very difficult period during Camila’s childhood. She said “Mom, Mom”, and that hurt me. I never asked him not to manifest himself that way, but it bothered me and I didn’t understand why.

I tried to attend church because I thought there was something wrong with me. I was always tough on the way I walked, and the pastor at Universal used to tell me: “You can’t walk like that, you have to be more feminine”.

In 2010, I had depression, I felt very strong anxiety and I stayed in bed for three months. After a conversation with a psychiatrist, I decided that I would never again let anyone have an opinion about my sexuality because I was trying to date someone and there was prejudice.

Besides, I decided to leave my city. I left Bagé and went to Rio Grande, also in Rio Grande do Sul. It’s hard to make a decision when you have a high degree of anxiety, but I was determined to change my life. Previously, he worked as a graphic designer. In the new city, I took a plumbing course, was hired at a shipyard and began to prosper.

One day in Rio Grande, in 2013, when Camila was 10 years old, she was in her living room watching a documentary about Jazz Jenning, an American transgender girl. She called me and said: “I don’t like the clothes I wear, I don’t like to cut my hair like a boy, that’s who I am [apontando para Jazz]”.

I did not know what to do. “We live in a state where you’re already bullied by being completely effeminate, how would that be?”, I said. I confess that I should have been a little stronger, to have sought more knowledge to welcome her. On the other hand, I don’t blame myself, I had no information. The fact is that Camila threw out her identity.

Years later, in May 2018, when we lived in Pelotas, a city close to Rio Grande, a friend came to visit me and we spent hours talking. At a certain point, she asked me: “Don’t you think you’re a man?” That moved me a lot, I kept asking questions and didn’t let her sleep.

The next day, I spoke to several people in town to find out how I could start the process. When I assumed my transsexuality, at the age of 34, Camila stopped seeing me as a mother and started to call me “father” naturally. I felt like she was carrying rocks on her back and then all of a sudden it came loose, it was one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever heard.

But there was complexity, of course. My daughter came out as trans and, shortly afterwards, I discovered myself as a man, as a father and as a trans. We have our difficulties.

In 2019, when we —me, Camila and my mother, Elisa— were already living in Palhoça (SC), another type of conflict arose: what is it like to be a father? I never had a paternity reference, my father didn’t assume me. It was at that time that I met Tiago Koch, from the Homem Paterno channel, and other fathers and I was able to better understand topics such as masculinity.

The conversations in these parent groups have always brought me clarity. Until then, I was a bit macho. Today, I reject this assumption that the man should always be in charge and I have become a better father.

I like to talk about my life, but I’ve been criticized for it, someone said I was victimizing myself. It’s really a fine line, but that’s not my intention. Remembering my story is a way to address issues like sexual abuse and transsexuality. There are people who look for me, fathers and mothers, for example, and I feel I can help them, it’s a matter of conscience.

Testimony to Naief Haddad