Every morning when I walk down the street in Bedford-Stuyvesant, my Brooklyn neighborhood, men try to stop me because they are attracted to my body.

“Ayo miss, you are really beautiful. Can I have a moment of your time?” “Damn, ma, you got a fat ass. What’s your name? Do you have a number?”

I usually smile respectfully and keep moving. More often than not, I hear footsteps behind me. I am flattered and terrified; I appreciate having my beauty affirmed, but I don’t know what will happen once this person comes closer.

Many women worry about being sexually harassed or assaulted by men. I also have to worry about what will happen when men find out I’m trans. The year 2016 was the deadliest on record for trans people: At least 27 were killed. To live joyfully in a trans or gender-deviant body is to flirt with danger and even death, it seems.