Being awoman is h-a-r-d.End Diary EntryI continued on my path searching for tgirl acceptance. I made some morefriends. I went to more parties. Boys...hit on me. I resisted. I let afew take some pictures of me. I worked on my voice, I worked on my walk,I worked on my way. I could definitely flirt, especially if I was at thebar and there were drinks to be purchased. I knew just when to smile, totouch an arm, to rest my hand on a thigh. These boys wanted to take myflower (I supposed), they. His eyes, a soft hazel, glared at her as his lip curled up in a snarl of disgust. He spoke angry, low-toned words that she might not comprehend exactly but could easily decipher the meaning of. This was another man she had fought before. And he too hated her. She was not in a good place, at all. The man with the short neatly trimmed black hair walked around behind her. She could barely stand straight at all. He had been tearing her clothing from her body while she was unconscious, the pieces. More

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