I don't have it in me to be someone's other woman
No cruzamento entre a fama efêmera da televisão e os labirintos da intimidade digital, Marcela Porto — conhecida como Mulher Abacaxi — viveu um encontro virtual com um ator casado que a procurou sob identidade falsa. O episódio, que ela narra com franqueza, não é apenas uma história de engano pessoal, mas um espelho das dinâmicas que mulheres trans enfrentam em um mundo onde o desejo masculino frequentemente opera nas sombras. Porto escolheu o silêncio não por fraqueza, mas como afirmação de sua própria dignidade.
- Um ator com passagem pelas maiores emissoras do país abordou Porto por um perfil falso no Instagram — e ela só descobriu sua identidade real depois de uma intimidade virtual já estabelecida.
- A revelação de que ele era casado e pai transformou o que parecia ser uma conexão em uma arquitetura de mentiras, colocando Porto diante de uma escolha moral que ela não esperava ter que fazer.
- Porto recusou o encontro presencial e se recusou a continuar — não por mágoa, mas por um princípio claro: ela não quer ser a 'outra', nem aceitar relações que só existem no escuro.
- O caso acende um debate mais amplo sobre como homens buscam mulheres trans em segredo, sem disposição para assumir qualquer vínculo público, perpetuando um ciclo de invisibilidade e uso.
- Mesmo tendo sido enganada, Porto optou por não expor o ator — uma decisão que ela enquadra não como proteção a ele, mas como preservação de sua própria integridade.
Marcela Porto, a performer de 49 anos conhecida como Mulher Abacaxi, recebeu uma mensagem inesperada no Instagram de um perfil que parecia falso. Desconfiada, mas curiosa, ela foi respondendo — e a conversa foi se tornando íntima. Houve sexo virtual. Só depois ela descobriu quem era o homem por trás da tela: um ator com carreira consolidada na Globo e na Record nos anos 1990. E que era casado, com filhos.
Quando ele sugeriu um encontro presencial, Porto disse não. Não por medo, mas por convicção. "Não tenho perfil para ser a outra", ela explicou, "e não me interessa ficar com alguém só por uma noite." A decisão foi clara, mas o que ficou não foi apenas a decepção com aquele homem específico.
O que Porto viu no episódio foi um padrão que ela reconhece há muito tempo: homens que desejam mulheres trans na privacidade de perfis falsos e mensagens cifradas, mas que jamais admitiriam esse desejo à luz do dia. "A gente sabe que os homens querem nos usar e não querem nos assumir", ela refletiu, com uma lucidez que vem da experiência acumulada.
Sua crítica se ampliou para além do ator. Porto falou sobre a dificuldade que mulheres trans — e mulheres em geral — têm de encontrar parceiros verdadeiramente presentes e fiéis. Pensou na esposa do ator, no que ela acredita saber sobre o marido, na distância entre a versão oficial de um relacionamento e o que acontece nas bordas dele.
Mas Porto também traçou um limite para si mesma. Apesar de ter sido enganada, ela decidiu não expor o ator publicamente. Não por clemência, mas por uma escolha sobre quem ela quer ser. A história é dela para contar — e também dela para guardar.
Marcela Porto, the 49-year-old performer known professionally as Mulher Abacaxi, found herself in an unexpected situation when a man she didn't immediately recognize reached out to her on Instagram. He was using a fake profile, and she assumed the whole thing was a hoax—the kind of thing that happens constantly in the digital noise of social media. She engaged with him anyway, and over time their conversation became intimate. They had virtual sex.
It wasn't until later that Porto discovered who he actually was: a television actor who had worked on major Brazilian networks like Globo and Record back in the 1990s, someone whose face had been on screens for years. By then, she had also learned something else that changed everything. He was married. He had children. The man she thought was a ghost from television was a real person with a real family.
When he suggested they meet in person, Porto declined. She made a decision about what she would and wouldn't do, and a relationship built on deception—even one that had only existed in the virtual space between two screens—wasn't something she was willing to continue. "I don't have it in me to be someone's other woman," she said later, "and I'm not interested in being with someone just for one night."
What struck Porto most, though, wasn't the actor's behavior alone. It was what his actions revealed about a larger pattern she sees constantly. She is a trans woman, and she has watched men approach her—and other trans women—with a specific kind of interest. They want something, but they don't want to be seen wanting it. They're willing to engage in private, in the shadows of fake profiles and encrypted messages, but they won't acknowledge the relationship in daylight. "Of course we know men want to use us and don't want to claim us," she reflected.
But Porto's frustration extended beyond the specific betrayal. She spoke about the broader difficulty that trans women and cisgender women alike face in finding partners who are actually present, actually loyal, actually faithful. The landscape of modern dating, she suggested, is littered with men who are unwilling or unable to show up as they claim they will. She thought about the actor's wife, about what that woman might believe about her husband, about the gap between what a spouse thinks is true and what actually is.
Yet Porto also made a choice about her own integrity. Despite having been deceived, despite having every reason to expose the actor publicly—to name him, to tell his wife, to let the world know what he had done—she decided against it. "I'm not going to expose him," she said. It was a boundary she set for herself, a line between revenge and dignity. The story of what happened between them would remain hers to tell, but not his to be destroyed by.
Citas Notables
I don't have it in me to be someone's other woman, nor to have someone just for one night— Marcela Porto
Of course we know men want to use us and don't want to claim us. But it's hard for trans women and cisgender women to find men who are loyal, faithful, and have character— Marcela Porto
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did you decide not to name him, even after he lied to you?
Because exposing him wouldn't change what happened to me. It would just make me the person who did the exposing. I wanted to be better than that.
Do you think his wife knows what he does online?
I doubt it. Most wives don't. That's the whole point of the fake profiles and the late-night messages. The deception is the entire structure.
You mentioned it's harder for trans women to find loyal partners. Is that specific to trans women, or is it just dating in general right now?
It's both. But for us, there's an extra layer. Men will seek us out in private, but they won't be seen with us in public. That's a specific kind of rejection.
Did you feel angry at him, or more disappointed?
Angry, yes. But also tired. This isn't new. This is the pattern I see over and over.
What would have changed your mind about meeting him in person?
If he had been honest from the start. If he had said, "I'm married, this is complicated, but I'm interested." At least then I could have made a real choice.