My name is Mauricio, I’m 23 years old and I was born in the province of Salta in northern Argentina.
I grew up watching my father hit and abuse my mother. He was an alcoholic and was extremely aggressive. He beat my mother so much that she would get on her knees and beg him not to hurt her. My childhood turned out to be filled with fears and anxiety because of this situation.

I was so disappointed with my father that I never called him for what he was: “father.” To me, he did not deserve my respect. He didn’t have a steady job and we had to live off these small one-time jobs.

I remember being just a boy and going downtown with him to rob people so that we could buy food to eat that day. We would go into a store, where I would cover him and he’d steal things to sell.

During my childhood I was treated like a girl. I would hear phrases like: “Mommy’s little girl” or something similar. These words were traumatic.

When I was a young boy, I liked to play soccer. I liked to go outside with the other boys, but at the same time, I’d think about how they treated me, which lead to do things girls liked to do: put on women’s clothes, play with dolls, etc.

My inner being was never at peace, ever! The void was immense. And this is where the confusion began. Hatred, especially for my father and brother, increased and tormented me because of how they treated me with contempt.
There was much violence because no one respected the other.

One Sunday morning, my father was drunk and hit me so hard that I reacted and hit him back. My mother always defended me, but this time she was not home.

During that violent act, I yelled out, “STOP! Get out of my house!” He ran to a nearby river and never came back. I was 14 at the time.

On Monday night, the police knocked on our door to tell us that he had committed suicide by hanging himself. It was very difficult for me to hear this because I knew it was my fault, due to the argument we had.

After this, I was still confused because of the endless traumas and insults. I delve into the homosexual world, set on learning how to transform into a woman. I started to wear a wig, makeup, extravagant clothes, high heels and going out alone at night without my family seeing me. I dropped out of school and started my “new life”. I enjoyed the way it felt.

I was in a relationship with a young man for 1 year. After a while he decided to leave me and I couldn’t accept his decision, I was blinded by my emotions. I no longer wanted to live, so I began taking pills and cutting myself.

Deeper and deeper, I sunk into this dark world and became a prostitute, working the streets for money. I smoked, partied and drank for days. I was constantly online visiting websites that offered sexual encounters. I began getting hormone shots to look more like a woman. I called myself “Jazmin” and hated when anyone called me Mauricio – he was dead to me.

Though I was constantly running away from the police, they caught me several times for working the streets and took me to jail for hours, yet I continued. Threatened at gunpoint, I was solicited to have sex for free. The life of a transvestite is the street, and he receives unimaginable abuse, besides the risk of getting a disease or being killed.

I was afraid and could not sleep. Fear came over me. I could never be alone because I was relentlessly tormented by bad thoughts.

I went to a healer to save me from death, but it did not work. Things kept getting worse every day. I also went to the Catholic Church, but I felt like it was in vain.

My void was immense, only God knows how I felt. But I knew one thing: my life was coming to an end.
For three weeks, I watched the Universal TV and could not sleep at night. I didn’t want to go to that Church, but it was my last option. I wanted to die. I couldn’t endure living that lifestyle any longer because it brought shame to everyone.

My mother encouraged me to go, so I went. When I arrived, on a Friday, everything was different. My eyes were opened to a whole other world there. Even without understanding much, I was invited to the Youth Group. The very next day, I was there, ready to participate in the meeting with the other youths. The first time I went, they asked me my name, and I said, “Mauricio”. Standing there, in women’s clothes, Mauricio woke up.

They treated me like a normal person, without any discrimination. I was just another regular guy. They were not embarrassed of me. That day, the way I was treated made me feel great. I continued attended the Youth Group meetings, and persevered.
The first change was that I began sleeping at night; my thoughts also began to change over time. I was like a woman, but I was one of them. They believed in me.

I started to do my part. No one told me to change back to my normal appearance, but a Youth Group leader once said that the Holy Spirit would transform me. He said that God had chosen me, and it wasn’t a coincidence that I had come to Church. I was chosen. Those words had a great impact on me.

Instead of putting on makeup and wearing women’s clothes, I began to see things differently. I knew I should not be so. God made me a man. Everything happened gradually, but decisively. A thought would surge, telling me to stop doing something and I would obey. After much perseverance, the time came to get a haircut.

I sold everything I had that was related to women’s fashion and cosmetics, and once that was done, it was as though a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I was happy. I felt happy. The thoughts of killing myself disappeared, and so did all of my fears. Because I decided to leave that lifestyle, I also decided to seek my deliverance and use my faith. I went back to school, and most importantly, I was born again.

My entire life changed. I forgave and forgot my past.
Today I have the Holy Spirit, I was sealed by Him. I’m sure the Lord Jesus chose me to bear witness to thousands of people who are in this lifestyle.

Today I am happy! I want to be someone in life and serve God until the last day of my life.

Mauricio Santucho