Stop Selling Us Pipe Dreams

Medical Transition is No Key to Happiness

I was listening to the new episode of Informed Dissent, the podcast featuring Corinna Cohn, Jamie Reed, Eliza Mondegreen, Lisa Selin Davis, and Ben Appel, when Corinna began sharing part of his origin story. His words hit me like a gut punch. Born in 1975, just six years after me, Corinna’s journey could easily have been mine if I’d been born into today’s affirmation-only climate.

At 19 years old, Corinna underwent sex reassignment surgery in Indianapolis, Indiana, convinced by promises of happiness and a sense of normalcy. Years later, he now knows those promises were empty. His story of growing up gender-nonconforming—marked by alienation, misplaced trust, and irreversible consequences—is as enraging as it is heartbreaking.

Listening to him filled me with two distinct emotions. Sadness for the life Corinna might have had if he’d been given the support to accept himself as he was. And hot, righteous anger for the young people today being sold the same false promises. Corinna’s life is proof that medical transition is not the key to happiness, no matter how loudly people like Jack Turban insist otherwise.

A Childhood Marked by Alienation

Corinna grew up in a home shaped by an unusual dynamic. His father was 59 when he was born, and his mother, just 20, was not mature enough to handle the emotional complexities of raising children, especially with a much older and emotionally unavailable husband.

Corinna describes himself as a socially delayed child who struggled to connect with boys his own age. While others played rough-and-tumble games at recess, Corinna preferred to read alone. “I constantly felt alienated from boys and alienated from maleness,” he explained. “It did not seem accessible. And I came to not want it.”

Eventually, this alienation morphed into a desperate hope: life would surely be better if he could just become a girl. “I thought that if I could become a girl, that things would be normal in my life.”

“Children are stupid,” he said. “You shouldn’t tell a child you could change your sex.”

This statement, blunt and unapologetic, cuts through the affirming narratives of today. Corinna wasn’t a “wise child” who understood his inner truth better than anyone else—he was a child grappling with feelings he didn’t understand. Today, these same feelings are medicalized, fast-tracking confused kids into irreversible decisions under the guise of compassion.

Transition as a False Salvation

Corinna’s description of transition is devastating. He doesn’t frame it as a solution or a path to self-discovery but as a ritual—a sacrifice meant to bestow the illusion of transformation. “It’s not that there’s something wrong with your body,” he said. “It’s, here’s a sacrifice to become better or to become whole.’”

At 19, Corinna believed this promise. Without a support network in Indiana, without a primary care doctor, and without a realistic understanding of what lay ahead, he underwent sex reassignment surgery.

“The surgeons were like, cool, let’s do it.”

Years later, Corinna reflects on that decision with clarity. Transition didn’t solve his problems; it created new ones. He now sees the idea of “passing” as a cruel mirage. “If you think the key to happiness is how well you’re able to persuade strangers or even your associates that you are the opposite sex, I don’t think you’re going to be able to achieve happiness,” he said.

These words are a damning indictment of the affirmation-only model. Transition doesn’t bring wholeness. It doesn’t make someone their “authentic self.” It’s a desperate, costly attempt to escape pain, and it often leaves people worse off than before.

The Irreversibility of Medical Transition

Corinna’s story highlights a truth that affirmation advocates refuse to acknowledge: the permanence of medical transition. “Once you’ve had certain types of surgeries…you can’t just get implants and be restored,” he said. “That’s impossible.”

Corinna has lived as a woman for years. His professional relationships, family dynamics, and even the way his young relatives see him as their “aunt” are all built around this identity. Detransitioning, for him, would require dismantling a decades-long life.

This is the harsh reality of transition. It’s not just a personal decision—it’s a one-way street, and turning back is almost impossible. For Corinna, the path forward lies in radical acceptance of what cannot be undone. But he knows the system that led him here is still pulling others into the same trap.

Jack Turban, You Bastard

Corinna’s anger toward the affirmation model is palpable. “What kind of worthless adult are you to tell a child they can change their sex?” he asks, “Jack Turban, you bastard.”

This anger is justified. Jack Turban and his peers have built careers on selling the idea that affirmation is synonymous with care. They tell children like Corinna that their discomfort is a sign they were “born in the wrong body” and that medical transition will fix everything.

But Corinna’s life proves otherwise. Transition didn’t solve his struggles with identity or bring him peace. It left him grappling with regret and a deep sense of betrayal by the adults who should have known better. How many more lives will be harmed before this ideological house of cards collapses?

A Call to Arms: The Courage Coalition Needs You

Corinna’s story isn’t just a personal reckoning—it’s a rallying cry. We cannot stand by while children are sacrificed on the altar of affirmation. We cannot allow figures like Jack Turban to continue peddling these lies unchecked.

The Courage Coalition exists to fight for the truth. We are here to protect children from irreversible harm, to demand ethical medical practices, and to offer support to those who have been hurt by this ideology. Corinna’s wisdom is a stark reminder that our work is urgent and essential.

Join us. Speak out. Share stories like Corinna’s. Donate your time, your money, your voice—whatever you can. Together, we can expose the lies of the affirmation-only model and build a future where children are protected from harm.

Corinna’s story cannot be undone, but it doesn’t have to be repeated. If we listen to voices like his, we can prevent the next generation from making the same mistakes.

The path to truth is clear. All it takes is courage.

Will you stand with us?