'I hate that we laughed at her': The men who tried to woo a model without knowing she was transgender reveal how they REALLY feel after the death of tragic reality star

Beautiful, slim and curvaceous Miriam Rivera, star of a now infamous reality TV show in which six young men competed for her affections, was the epitome of feminine beauty.

The men, all in their early 20s, were eager to be the chosen one, the suitor the Mexican model would sail off into the sunset with — a £10,000 prize also in hand.

That was until the big, shocking, reveal at the end: Miriam was, in fact, a trans woman, complete with intact male genitalia, a detail the men were so horrified to discover they unsuccessfully sought an injunction to prevent the series airing.

They also sued the producers, claiming their lack of informed consent equated to a conspiracy to commit sexual assault, and were awarded £500,000 in compensation.

Miriam, who had sought a life of fame after feeling rejected by her religious father, cut a heartbreaking figure.

Contestants on the controversial show were eager to be the chosen one, the suitor the Mexican model would sail off into the sunset with — a £10,000 prize also in hand

Miriam Rivera was beautiful and curvaceous... with contestants having no idea that she was born a man

The moment, screened on Sky TV on 2004, that Miriam revealed that she was transgender

Standing beside the male presenter, she broke the news to the contestants: 'I'm not a woman, I was born a man.'

The words, met with awkward sniggers from the men, had been scripted for Miriam and, very much believing she now was a woman, she would no doubt have chosen different ones herself.

Outlooks on transgenderism — as well as attitudes to mental health — have, of course, changed considerably in the two decades since There's Something About Miriam was shown on Sky TV in 2004.

So much so that some of these men, now in their 40s, wish they could go back in time and show her compassion instead of laughing when Miriam, who tragically committed suicide in 2019, revealed her 'secret'.

Aron Lane, 42, now a charity worker and father of three, from Chelmsford, Essex, is one of them.

He told the Mail this week he worries that the show and its aftermath, what he calls 'the domino effect', contributed to Miriam's untimely death at 38.

'It breaks my heart that the decisions that were made may have had some effect on the way people turned on Miriam afterwards,' says Aron. 'Seeing clips of the show, the one of us laughing, haunts me. The mocking coverage afterwards and in the documentary is a hard watch.

'Reality TV was relatively new at that point and it was like the Wild West. They could make up their own rules and see what they could get away with.

'We were a little bit protected back then, because it was only reported in the UK media, rather than the sort of exposure it would get now through social media.'

With her delicate bone structure and slender frame, Miriam was much in demand in the trans sex clubs where she worked

Aron Lane, a contestant on There's Something About Miriam, fears that the shows and its aftermath contributed to Miriam's untimely death at 38

The moment when show winner Tom finds out that Miriam is, in fact, transexual

Aron is one of the two men interviewed for a documentary about her life airing on Channel 4 this week, Miriam: Death of a Reality Star.

While fellow contestant, Toby Green, who also features in the documentary, figured out early on that Miriam was trans — having shared his thoughts on camera he was the first to be eliminated — Aron disputes the idea that it was easily detectable.

'She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, every head turned when she walked into a room,' he recalls.

He also remembers feeling shocked but pretty blase after the big reveal, though perhaps he may have reacted differently had he, like series' winner Tom, an actor, been filmed kissing and caressing Miriam on a sofa.

'I think mentally it would have affected me because I had some mental health dips anyway, after the show came out,' he says.

Aron suffered with anxiety for two years afterwards, largely, he says, as a result of being recognised and judged by people who had seen the show and the ensuing coverage.

'I'd get a lot of homophobic remarks,' he says. 'We weren't talking about transgender people the way we do now, the terminology was all 'cross-dressers' and 'ladyboys'. People felt within their rights to say whatever they wanted and to laugh at that situation because that's how it had been delivered on the television, as a gimmick, a joke. And I was the butt of that joke.'

However, far from being ashamed of his involvement in the show, Aron included reference to it in his CV, where he alluded to it cryptically as a life-changing experience.

'It got me through the door for so many interviews. Bosses were more interested in what it might be than they were in my previous relevant experience,' he says.

But Aron appreciates the experience must have been much harder for Tom, who declined an invitation to appear in the documentary. 'Obviously Tom was a lot more intimate with Miriam,' he says.

'He still had feelings, I assume, for her and to adjust his thinking on hearing the news can't have been easy.' The now defunct production company, Endemol, which also created Big Brother, anticipated a fallout — hiring bouncers at the Ibiza villa where it was filmed before the big reveal.

Having initially said he was still happy to go on the prized boat trip with Miriam, a visibly shocked Tom changed his mind, referring to her as 'he' on camera.

Scott, the show's runner-up, is said in the documentary to have gone 'berserk, throwing things' and chasing director Remy Blumenfeld around the pool.

But Aron did not witness this as, instead, he spent the aftermath consoling the crew, many of whom he says were 'distraught' at the deception they had conspired in.

'I remember putting my arm around one of them, who was just sobbing, and saying: 'We're so sorry, we can't believe we've done this to you, that we've lied',' he recalls. 'I said 'It sucks. But I don't want you to feel terrible about it. I understand the position you're in.'

Their complaint was very much with the production company for putting them in that position, and the six men quickly agreed to apply for an injunction to stop it airing.

The production company, which spent £1million making the series, pushed back hard and the injunction was denied.

Upmarket law firm Schillings then represented the men in their claim for compensation on a no-win no-fee basis, taking around half the £500,000 they were awarded, the rest of which was divvied up between them.

But what of Miriam, who was just 21 years old, in all this? She and the director were quickly 'whisked away' from the villa and the men, much to Aron's regret, never got to speak to her again.

It's impossible to quantify the devastating effects the show had on her but, once back in Mexico and later the US, Miram's family and friends said she turned to prostitution, drugs and heavy drinking.

In the documentary it's revealed that, in one particularly harrowing episode in 2018, Miriam vanished for six months without explanation and later alleged she'd been kidnapped at gunpoint by occult-worshippers who sacrificed animals and forced her to work as a sex slave.

With her delicate bone structure and slender frame, she was much in demand in the trans sex clubs where she worked, and became mixed up with and exploited by some questionable characters.

It was her mother, Maria Jesus, who found Miriam hanging in the courtyard of the family home in early 2019, shortly after she had returned from the US, in a state of distress.

Maria, who also has three sons, does not believe Miriam took her own life, suspecting foul play from someone within the murky world she inhabited.

Most poignant of all are the interviews with her father, Fernando Mendoza, who struggled to accept Miriam's sexuality before her transition. After discovering girls' clothes and a wig under Miriam's bed in her early adolescence, he enlisted a pastor to perform what sounds like an exorcism.

They never spoke again after Miriam left home in her mid-teens, and Fernando refers to Miriam as 'he' and 'my son' throughout the documentary, until the closing scenes when he begins to cry, recalling how 'she looked very beautiful in her coffin'.

He blames himself, believing that, if he had been more tolerant, her life would have taken a different direction and she would still be here today.

Given another chance, he would tell Miriam: 'I love you.

Forgive me.' Aron too recalls being 'very sad' when he heard of Miriam's death. He had hoped there may be an opportunity for the six contestants to meet with her again 'as proper adults'.

'I hate the fact that we laughed and remember saying back then, on camera, I could imagine it was very difficult for Miriam to be that vulnerable in front of all of us and share her truth,' says Aron. 'But I was too immature to deal with it properly at the time.' Aron, whose father died when he was in his teens, understands how trauma can impact a person's life and the choices they make and says he wishes he could tell Miriam: 'I'm sorry.'

He was working as a chef when he appeared on the reality show. But the death of his son Evan, from Patau syndrome, a rare genetic disorder, seven years ago led him in a new direction.

Aron, who lives with his wife, Jen, 45, and three daughters Dottie, nine, Norah, three, and Audrey, four months, now works as a fundraising manager for Haven Hospices, an Essex-based charity which provided much-needed support to his family at the time of Evan's death.

He told Jen about the show soon after they met. She had never seen it and had the dubious pleasure of watching him, together with four of the other contestants, strip off in a clip used in the documentary. It was, he was relieved to find, appropriately pixelated.

Unsurprisingly, given the much-altered climate, the TV industry has been quick to distance itself from There's Something About Miriam.

Banijay, the company which acquired Endemol in 2020, says: 'Banijay does not in any way support the editorial concept or the production processes of the show. We champion inclusivity and prioritise welfare. The management responsible for this show no longer work with the company.'

Sky, for its part, says: 'The show was removed from all Sky platforms many years ago.

'The series has not been reflective of Sky's attitude towards gender identity or inclusivity for a long time and we apologise for the hurt caused by it.'

Meanwhile director Remy Blumenfeld, who now works as a creative industries coach, acknowledges 'the shock and surprise of Miriam's disclosure' and understands 'the ripple effect the series has had'.

He stands by an apology, issued in 2004, 'for any upset caused to the contestants'.

'Miriam's input in the making of the series was very important to us and we worked closely with her to support her throughout. She was a kind, brave, sensitive and intelligent woman. Thankfully there's more understanding of trans people today than when the show aired', he says.

While the trans debate may in recent years have become more polarising even than Brexit, all must surely now be relieved that this sort of exploitative show has been consigned to the TV history books.

Still, rather than feeling ashamed of his involvement, Aron says he feels 'proud' to have been part of the show.

'Because I took part, I look at so many things differently now,' he says. 'I take a step back and listen to people much more than when I was younger, so I'm grateful for that.'

Filming, and the legal battles which followed, were such a bonding experience that Aron hopes to one day have a reunion with the other contestants.

However, he feels sad that Miriam, whose struggles and traumas they can now see clearly through older, wiser eyes, will not be there.

• Miriam: Death of a Reality Star is on Channel 4 now