Recently, in broad daylight on a Sydney suburban street, I was called a faggot and bashed by two young men because I was wearing women’s clothes.

I required three stitches in my lip and am still sporting a black eye and a couple of scars. Friends and comrades have wished me well – but I want to let the world know that I refuse to be a victim.

This here is a woman, beard and all, who is not fucking afraid of anyone. No one can threaten me out of who I am – no pig or prime minister or transphobe on the street can scare me out of fighting to smash transphobia and the system of capitalism that breeds it.

Bring on what you’ve got, you worthless ruling class fucks. I’ll wear every scar with pride and say, “Look how weak you are, you only leave reminders; we will erase you from history.”

If you search for “fear” in the dictionary of my soul, it says: “Entry not found. See anger, fury, militancy, self respect.”