The Journal

I fed the dawn with blood, with ache, with offering—

five times the blade hummed against my skin,

whispered truths into my bones,

etched the shape I always was but never wore.

Each wound, a small death. Each scar, a hymn.

My body broke like morning breaks the dark,

shaking, tender, new—

a quiet thing still learning how to shine.

From the ruin of night, I rise, unburied,

softened into something holy.

I wear this skin the way fire wears light,

and when I breathe, the world remembers my name.

After stepping back from the bustling worlds of acting, music, and dance for almost two years, I embarked on an unexpected journey—one of self-discovery as a writer. This pause was not merely about leaving behind a familiar stage; it was a vital opportunity for reflection during my physical transition and a chance to realign my internal world. Finding my voice amidst the noise became essential as I sought to connect more deeply with who I am, both personally and artistically.

When people ask why I pressed pause on my career, I often respond, “I needed to hit the reset button.” I wanted to shed the weight of expectations—not only from the industry but also from myself. My decision to immerse myself in writing has since become a cornerstone of my identity. While my past remains a part of me, I am now shaping my narrative instead of allowing it to shape me.

In my recent work—a psychological thriller set in Brazil, along with a new play inspired by Lili Elbe’s diaries from 1933—I’m delving into themes that resonate deeply: the quest for acceptance, the struggle of being seen, and the complexities of identity in a world that tends to pigeonhole us. My play intertwines Elbe’s journey with my own, connecting my experiences during my transition in Brazil and New York, reflecting a continuous search for belonging and self-acceptance.

With four months of recovery behind me after my surgeries, I'm realizing the importance of freedom in life—the same kind I once felt while playing cherished characters. I want to be liberated in my artistic expression, embracing opportunities that allow me to explore new dimensions of myself. However, this freedom does not solely depend on me; it also hinges on the perspectives of others. I’ve grown weary of having to explain my identity, even though I am immensely proud of it. This need for explanation can sometimes feel naïve, and I firmly believe that neither my identity nor my art should be confined by the limitations imposed by others.

Exciting projects are on the horizon, and I can’t wait to share them. After a two-year hiatus from singing, I’ll be returning to the stage to perform at 54 Below in May. This moment represents a significant reconnection with the art that has always been my lifeline. I am also working on adapting and starring in one of my favorite Brazilian musicals in English—an exhilarating challenge that will allow me to share my culture with new audiences.

One of the most daunting challenges I face is opening myself up to new people and experiences. For too long, I kept my circle small, fearing the risks of misunderstanding and the unseen dangers of exposing my true self. Yet, as I’ve begun to embrace vulnerability, I’ve discovered the beauty of reaching out. This expansion of perspective has revealed both the complexities and limitations of my previous worldview.

The creative process can feel like a rollercoaster ride. In this challenging industry, finding the right collaborators is crucial. I aspire to work with individuals who understand the depth of the stories we tell—those who are willing to venture beyond the familiar and who recognize the potential of bringing fresh narratives to life.

Through this journey, I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s okay to feel uncertain and to take risks. I have learned to appreciate the importance of community and open dialogue. Vulnerability has become my bridge, allowing me to connect with others and inspire them to discover their own voices.

At this juncture in my life, I am focused on self-acceptance and personal growth. I am learning to be kinder to myself, embracing my quirks and imperfections. There is an undeniable beauty in that—an artistry in being unapologetically real.

As a woman, artist, singer, dancer, writer, and producer, my journey encompasses navigating the transitions of identity and fully embracing who I am. The “he” and the “they” that have shaped my path have guided me to the “she” that I cherish today. I strive to explore all facets of my identity and to infuse the same freedom I’ve discovered in my personal life into my art and the opportunities I pursue.

This exploration is about recognizing the complexities of life and the multifaceted nature of our identities. I hope we can celebrate not only the journey but also the vibrant tapestry of experiences that define us and the stories we create along the way. In doing so, we pave the path for others to embrace their unique identities, free from the limitations imposed by societal perspectives.

Snowflakes drift on whispers light,

Silver stars in frozen flight.

By the lake where cold winds sing,

Friends stand close in winter’s ring.

Footsteps print on icy ground,

Soft as secrets, lost then found.

Laughter rises, warm and bright,

Melting through the endless white.

Frozen glass, the lake below,

Holds our faces in its glow.

Skates carve echoes, fleeting, free—

Traces left in memory.

Fingers numb, but hearts still bold,

Stories shared in hands we hold.

Seasons shift, the cold may stay,

But friendship never fades away.

— poem by Darwin Del Fabro

This year has been filled with magic—the magic of finally finishing my surgeries, of looking in the mirror and saying with certainty, I am a woman. It’s a feeling I’ve dreamed of for so long, a moment of quiet joy and self-acceptance that I thought would never come. But as I stood in front of my reflection, feeling whole, I turned to the TV and saw something that shattered that serenity—Donald Trump, once again, dismissing the very process that allowed me to become myself.

In that moment, I thought of those who are still discovering themselves, those who have not yet found their reflection staring back at them with love and certainty. I thought of the younger generations, the ones who need help—help from doctors, from psychiatrists, from a government willing to support them rather than erase them. Transitioning is not just a personal journey; it is a societal one. It requires resources, understanding, and access to financial support, education, and opportunities in workplaces. Because for many, the path to becoming themselves is far more challenging than what is considered “normal” in this world.

Eight years ago, I moved to America with a dream—to be an artist, to be myself. I worked tirelessly to build a life where I could afford to transition on my own terms. I put my career on pause, saving every penny to ensure I could do it exactly as I envisioned. I was fortunate to have that chance. But I know not everyone is so lucky.

I may not have the historical knowledge that my Harvard- educated friends possess, the kind that allows them to name every president and analyze policies with precision. But I do have something else—something lived and felt. I know the weight of fighting for an identity that many seek to erase. I understand what is right and what is wrong, not through textbooks, but through experience.

And I know that words—especially words spoken by leaders—carry consequences far beyond their moment in the spotlight. Trump’s words cannot be dismissed as just another passing statement, something we forget after scrolling through TikTok. It cannot be like that. I’ve seen what happens when words of hate are given a stage. I experienced it in Brazil, when Bolsonaro spoke about “freeing” children from so-called harmful influences. Those words gave permission to those who already hated us. They empowered them to say, Yes, we can speak it now. We can say it to their faces because our president said it’s right.

Presidents will change, but the mentalities they unleash will not fade so easily. That is where my fear sleeps—in the lasting permission granted to those awho see us as less than human. Hate, once validated, does not go back into hiding. It lingers. It festers. It finds new ways to manifest in laws, in schools, in homes, in the quiet corners where young people struggle to exist.

Art, to me, is the most powerful thing in the world. And that is why it’s always the first thing they try to take away.

When I saw the applause for Trump’s words—his assertion that “there are only two genders”—I felt the same ache I did when I heard Bolsonaro’s rhetoric in Brazil. It reminded me of the fear of being erased, of having to fight simply to exist. But despite the fear, I know one thing for certain: we will not disappear. We will keep moving forward, even when the world tries to push us back.

This article doesn’t offer definitive answers, because life itself offers none. But I do know that I will keep writing, singing, and acting—even if only in my own living room, even if only to myself. Because in those moments, I remind myself that happiness is real. That beauty exists. And when I look in the mirror, I finally see it.

I can only hope that the beauty I’ve found—the one I fought for, the one that feels so new and yet so familiar—can be seen by others. That the world, in its own time, will catch up and learn to see it too. And for those who are still searching, still fighting, I hope they know that their reflection is waiting for them, that their moment will come.

Until then, I will continue. Not because it’s easy, but because I must. Because joy—my joy—is an act of resistance.

And with that joy comes the knowledge that there are not just two genders, but many—many more, and many more to come. If it means making a human being a better person, a happier person, a person with a fuller heart and soul, then why should we limit what we cannot fully understand?

Whatever I can do to help others on their journeys, I will. Even if it means sacrificing a little of my own. Because in the end, our journeys are not just ours alone—they are woven together, each of us carrying the weight and the beauty of those who came before us, and those who are still yet to come.

What is self-discovery? It is the act of peeling back the layers of who we are, finding the truth of ourselves beneath the expectations of society, the weight of our experiences, and the whispers of our doubts. What does it mean to truly find yourself? It is less about finding something hidden and more about creating, shaping, and embracing the person you’ve always been.

To be confident in your body and your mind, in the presence of those around you, is one of life’s profound challenges. It is to stand in the world, unafraid to take up space, and to trust the person you’ve become. Confidence is not a gift granted overnight—it is built brick by brick, through vulnerability, courage, and self-acceptance.

To be human is to feel. It is to carry empathy in your heart, to understand and connect with the lives of others. It is to realize that we are all kaleidoscopes of color—complex, vibrant, and ever-shifting. Some days those colors dim, and we may feel ghostlike, moving through life without truly living it. I have been that person.

My therapist once told me I lived with a hidden chronic depression. It had settled so deeply into the fabric of my life that I didn’t even recognize it for what it was. For years, I lived as an introverted, shy soul, internalizing my anger, my frustration, and my longing. But I found a home for all of it in art. Art was my salvation. Through it, I discovered languages, cultures, and empathy—bridges to connect with the world and, more importantly, myself.

Even now, as I write this, I am learning. Self-discovery is not a destination; it is a process. Evolution, like my own name, is constant. For so long, I thought of my life as a straight line—a progression forward. But now, I see it as something far more complex, far more beautiful. Life is a spiral, circling back to moments, emotions, and lessons we thought we had moved past but now understand differently.

After 28 years of hiding, of tucking away pieces of myself in corners where I thought they were safe, I have finally brought my body and my mind into alignment. I have become the person I always wanted to be. This is not a new beginning, though—it is a continuation. Those 28 years, filled with courageous, painful, and joyful moments, are not erased. They are not something to deny. They are my foundation, the roots of the person I am now.

Opening this new door doesn’t mean leaving the past behind. It means embracing it, carrying it with me, and allowing it to shape how I move forward. The world feels different now—its contours, its light, its sounds. Everything shifts when you are more comfortable in your body, in your skin. You no longer have to force the words, “I am strong. I am courageous. I can do this.” Those truths are no longer spoken out of need—they simply are.

This alignment brings freedom but also challenge. When you’ve fought so long to feel at home in yourself, connecting with others can feel unfamiliar, like a language you’ve forgotten but still long to speak. Yet, this journey teaches you that connection begins with you. When you are whole, when you are present in your own truth, you attract others who see that light in you and want to share theirs.

It reminds me of a rehearsal space—a place I’ve always loved more than opening nights or even performing live for an audience. In rehearsals, you are discovering, you are exploring, and you are making mistakes in a way that feels free. There is no pressure to get everything right, only the joy of trying. The hope is to carry that same freedom into the performance once the show is open. But some things are where they are. Even though theater has its art and its life of its own—where every day is different—there is something magical about the first steps in rehearsal.

Every day has been different for me too. Now, as I discover more the woman that I am, magical things arise, and so do challenging ones. But like every single first day of rehearsal, I already have everything memorized. I am prepared. I am ready. Ready for opening night, even though I’ve just stopped rehearsing.

And now, I am ready for the audience. I hope you like me. I hope you see the truth in me—not just a polished, simple performance, but the essence of what it means to be honest. What it means to live a life fully in alignment with who I am.

Because, ultimately, life itself is a rehearsal space—an ever-evolving process of discovery and exploration. Some moments feel like polished performances, while others remain messy and incomplete. And yet, it’s all part of the same beautiful journey, shaping who we are. I am here, on this stage of life, ready to embrace every line, every movement, and every color. I hope you see me. I hope you feel it too.

In the heart of Brazil, as I rest and recover from my final surgery—the reassignment surgery—I find myself reflecting on the profound lessons my dad taught me about manhood and, ultimately, about being true to myself. My name is Darwin, a nod to the scientist of evolution, and it feels fitting because my journey has been nothing less than an evolution of self.

Growing up, my dad represented a kind of masculinity that defied stereotypes. He was not just a strong figure; he was a man of compassion, respect, and acceptance. He showed me that to be a good man is to be open-minded and to embrace diversity—not just in others, but within oneself. In a world that often tries to box us in, my father taught me the value of thinking outside the box, of breaking down barriers, and challenging societal norms.

As I transitioned, some might have expected me to erase my past or adopt a new identity entirely. But for me, embracing my history was essential. I chose to keep my name, Darwin, holding on to the pride I feel about my journey. My past is not a burden; it’s a testament to my resilience and the experiences that shaped me. The process of becoming who I am today reflects the belief that authenticity is an ongoing journey, one that can and should be celebrated.

In the times leading up to my surgery, my dad was my rock. He wasn’t just there to help me heal physically; he was an unwavering source of support, reminding me of the importance of being proud of every step I took along this path. His presence showed me that true strength comes from vulnerability and unwavering love. He embodies a brand of manhood that resonates with love for all, respect for different cultures, and a commitment to equality. In a society that sometimes pushes back against these values, my dad stands firm, signaling to me that being a man means more than adhering to traditional roles; it means being genuine and open-hearted.

With each challenge I face, I am increasingly aware of how these lessons intertwine with my identity as a woman. My father’s teachings empower me to celebrate my femininity, but they also encourage me to acknowledge the complexity of my journey. Being authentic to oneself is a process that doesn’t end; it’s a daily commitment to growth, reflection, and kindness.

As I navigate this next chapter of my life, I hope to carry forward my dad’s legacy of compassion and strength.

My name, Darwin, will forever symbolize not just the transformation I’ve undergone but the evolution of how I view manhood, womanhood, and the beautiful spectrum in between. I embrace my past, understanding that it informs my future, while I strive to be the best version of myself.

In the end, I hold fast to the belief that authenticity is a journey with no finish line—a path filled with discovery, pride, and enduring hope that, just like evolution, the process of being true to oneself is a vibrant, ongoing adventure. That’s the legacy I cherish, and it’s one I hope to share with the world.

I was never much of a cartoon fan, except for one: “The Powerpuff Girls.” Those three pint-sized heroines, each armed with their distinct superpowers, battled the odds in a bustling city. Little did I know that my own journey would mirror theirs as I traveled from New York City to Blumenau, a small German city in Brazil, to undergo my gender reassignment surgery. It was here that I encountered three extraordinary women—Ashley, Claudete, and Aria—who would forever transform my understanding of strength, resilience, and community.

Ashley, a strong police officer in Santa Catarina, fought tirelessly for her rights, finally securing free access to her surgery through the local health plan—an incredible milestone that only became a reality in 2024. While I am overjoyed that Ashley received her surgery for free, it’s pivotal to recognize that in America, similar achievements took place decades ago. This stark contrast underscores the long path we still have to traverse in the quest for equality and access.

Then there’s Claudete, a remarkable 54-year-old nurse whose compassion knows no bounds. After the three days in the hospital, her home became a sanctuary for me and other trans women, offering refuge and support as we navigated our healing journeys. Claudete’s house embodies warmth and care, creating a nurturing environment where safety meets love—allowing us to feel truly at ease as we step into our authentic selves.

Finally, there’s Aria, a soulful harmonica player from the countryside. Her simple melodies captured the spirit of resilience and creativity that filled our shared spaces. Sporting a countryside hat that she often wore while performing, she represented the beauty of the land and its stories. With a grandmother who saved every coin for her happiness, Aria’s story is a moving testament to love and sacrifice. Over a jar of poetry, we shared our stories, revealing the beauty in our struggles.

As we navigated our respective paths of recovery, pain and discomfort became a common language. Yet, even amid the challenges, laughter echoed in our moments together, a reminder of the resilience we all carried. We checked in on one another, hands clasped in solidarity, transforming the ordeal into a shared experience of healing.

Ashley, Claudete, and Aria embody more than mere strength—they challenge stereotypes surrounding what it means to be a trans woman, leading with their authentic selves. In Blumenau, amidst the ordinary, they remind us that extraordinary connections can be forged through shared struggles and victories. These stories, narrated through the lens of vulnerability and courage, can illuminate the path for others like me.

As I continue my journey, I hope to share these beautiful stories through my writing, amplifying voices that deserve to be heard. The resilience and love embodied by Ashley, Claudete, and Aria inspire me to press forward and advocate for a world where every trans person can find acceptance and care. While there remains a long journey ahead, the hope flickers bright in the corners of our collective narratives, urging us all to embrace our truth. Because in the end, we are the superheroes of the real world, shaping our destinies and redefining what it means to be strong.

In a world that often pushes conformity, my journey as an artist has been a quest for self-expression and authenticity. It all began when I was just three years old, winning my first singing competition—a moment that ignited a lifelong passion for creativity. By the age of thirteen, I made a move to Rio de Janeiro, immersing myself in the rich tapestry of theater. This leap wasn’t just about geography; it was a declaration that I wanted to shape my own path, unhindered by the boxes society attempts to place us in.

Growing up, many of us are products of our surroundings—reflections of our parents, cultures, and societal expectations. I was fortunate enough to break free from those molds. The process of deconstructing and reconstructing my identity took time and patience. I faced moments of challenges in this trajectory of learning, particularly when grappling with the pressures of societal standards. Yet through it all, art served as my sanctuary—a grounding force that opened my eyes to the beauty inherent in diversity.

This past year has been transformative in ways I could never have imagined. I underwent four surgeries, each demanding a pause that forced me to confront my body in a deeply personal way. Rather than simply a physical recovery, this period became a profound journey of self-discovery. I learned to appreciate each breath I take, and, in those moments of stillness, I reflected on how I wanted to step back into the world.

In embracing vulnerability, I found remarkable strength. My recovery taught me that healing is both physical and ethereal, emphasizing the importance of nurturing our deepest desires. It solidified my understanding that every step forward is a conscious choice to live authentically.

I don’t want to merely pass through life as just another image on a screen, someone you glance at only to find yourself distracted, scrolling through your phone instead of fully engaging. Life is too precious for that. Respect and admiration must go hand in hand, and I believe we all have the opportunity to create bold professional trajectories that captivate and resonate.

As I share my story, I hope to inspire others to embark on their own journeys of self-discovery. Embracing our individuality can be daunting, yet it paves the way for richer connections and creative expression. The diverse voices we offer to the world are our greatest gifts, and I am eager to continue sharing my art and my evolving journey, fueled by the lessons learned through both challenge and triumph.

In a world full of constraints, let us celebrate the liberty to be free souls, standing firm in our unique identities while boldly challenging norms. After all, that is the heartbeat of art—a relentless pursuit of understanding, learning, and sharing our truths.

I was filled with an overwhelming sense of purpose when I stepped into the bright, welcoming home in Balneário Camboriú, Brazil. After spending almost eight years living in New York and having only seen my nieces two years prior during a visit, this trip felt like an opportunity to connect with near strangers. Yet, I was ready to reconnect with my two young nieces, who represented a vibrant future where acceptance and love reign. It felt serendipitous that our paths crossed during this pivotal time in my life.

As I embraced my ten-year-old niece and her six-year-old sister, I marveled at how much they had grown in my absence. Their excitement to see me was palpable, transforming our reunion into a cherished memory. I could see not just the family bond but a revelation of possibilities, breaking through the complexities of a world that sometimes struggles to honor its diversity. Throughout those days together, we talked, laughed, and engaged in heartfelt exchanges that taught them invaluable lessons about embracing authenticity, kindness, and acceptance.

For too long, society has boxed individuals into neatly defined categories, stifling personal truth in the name of conformity. My journey of transformation and recovery inspired me to exemplify that we are the architects of our bodies and identities. Through simple moments shared with my nieces—eating ice cream, playing games, or just hanging out—we normalized the discussion of what it means to be different. Happiness is a pursuit free of societal judgment, a lesson I wanted them to carry into their futures.

As we cuddled up on the couch, stories unfolding around us, I reminded them that uniqueness is a gift and a source of strength. They were eager to hug me, trace my colorful nails, and touch my hair as they nestled close. Even in their shyness, they sought to be as close as possible, reveling in our connection. In their simple gestures of affection, I found an admiration I had rarely experienced, filling my heart with joy. Time and again, as their eyes sparkled with curiosity and warmth, I witnessed the power of love to bridge gaps and inspire understanding.

Reflecting on our time together made me hopeful for the future. I see so much potential in my nieces; they are vibrant, compassionate beings who, as they grow, will undoubtedly contribute to shifting the narrative around identity and acceptance. I felt a sense of pride knowing that I’ve imparted lessons of empathy and appreciation for differences—not only for their benefit but also for the world around them. I believe they will become compassionate advocates for a more inclusive world.

This experience was not just about reconnecting with my family but about planting seeds of understanding within the next generation. While we didn’t delve deeply into the complexities of my journey, their admiration for my appearance—a reflection of my newfound happiness and self-love—spoke volumes. They didn’t need elaborate explanations; the image of me as a more muscular, happier woman was enough.

As I prepared to leave Balneário Camboriú, I reflected on the profound importance of these moments. My nieces have witnessed firsthand that being different is acceptable and something to be celebrated. They are loved for who they are, and that acceptance gives them the wings to navigate this complex world confidently. I left with the firm belief that they would grow into remarkable individuals who embody the values of understanding and acceptance.

The journey continues, but my influence will ripple through their lives. Together, we are emboldened by love and understanding, ready to challenge the status quo, paving the way for more compassionate interactions in the future. With every heart they touch and every boundary they transcend, they—and all young people like them—can foster a world where differences are revered rather than judged.

As I said my goodbyes, I knelt to their level, and my youngest niece looked up at me and said, “These days felt like we were with Elizabeth Taylor in the city. It was like a dream!” I chuckled, marveling at how these two young girls knew of Elizabeth Taylor, a testament to their vibrant curiosity and cultural awareness. One thing is for sure: this new generation is more substantial and more innovative than we could predict. They give me so much hope for a better future for all of us.