The Daily Dose January 23, Tough and sad, as usual. I spend my day either locked up in my room entertaining clients inside an apartment I share with other colleagues or out on the street looking for work. Luckily that happens less often as I have regular clients who prefer to visit me, and we communicate by email.
So we trans get together in particular areas of the historical center, and clients know where to find us at night. My social life sucks. I can read disgust in their eyes. They keep me at a distance, as if they were scared I could infect them with some kind of disease.
When I go out to dinner, any clients who walk into the tavern avoid sitting at the table next to mine. I see them zigzag toward the opposite side of the room. Life as a trans in Italy is hell. Even more in Rome, home to the Vatican. Locals have a bigot mentality and are still influenced by deep Catholic roots.
When I pass by, couples giggle at me behind my back and some even shout out bad, vulgar names in a tight Roman dialect. I try to avoid taking public transports for this reason. I have a trans friend who works in the U. It might sound crazy, but I would like to be recognized as a professional worker. You know, pay taxes and have my own VAT, that sort of stuff.
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