Many transgender persons regret what they did to their bodies and souls, and some are pleading that others not repeat their mistake.

Robert Wenman was four years into being a “full-time” transgender woman in Ontario, Canada, when a police officer asked him: “You got all your legal rights by now. Why don’t you just enjoy life as a woman?”

The question left the then-LGBT activist stuttering: Here he was, training a group of law enforcers on transgender rights, yet he couldn’t answer a basic question: Why? Why was he still campaigning, still fighting?

I sold my soul to “the god of this world”. He had the face of an angel. He said I could have it all. I traded the truth for lies. I followed my deceitful heart. I was crowned prince, dressed in Burberry and flown to New York, Los Angeles and Miami. The house music was spellbinding. I chatted up celebrities. I was ushered to the front of long lines and through the doors of exclusive clubs.

On September 11, 2001, I woke up out of a drunken stupor and turned on the TV. Immediately I started crying. It reminded me that the Lord is coming back in judgment (Matthew 24:37-39). Having no peace, I was terrified.

For work, I moved from Pittsburgh to Boston to Washington, DC and then back to Pittsburgh. My gay life peaked in the bigger cities and then slowed down in Pittsburgh where gay life was less distracting. I was alone with my thoughts.

Cursing and screaming at my family, I had pushed away those who would not actively endorse my lifestyle. One day on Facebook, Christians tried to tell me that I needed to repent. I viciously attacked them. I hated the church.