I remember receiving the Holy Spirit at around 6 years old. I was obsessed with God and would often fall asleep praying at night. He was my best friend, which was a good thing because I was often bullied at school. By age 12 my parents had split up and the church I’d grown up in had all but ceased to exist. The pastor had left and the congregation gradually separated and found new churches. In the midst of all this, I decided that I didn’t believe in organised church but couldn’t deny the God I knew. It was around this time that I started experiencing intense gender dysphoria. I’d always felt rather uncomfortable in my body and being called a girl but through puberty, this dissociation was becoming more and more intense. Most of my friends were guys and I felt that I couldn’t relate to the girls around me. I thought that my body looked attractive but I just couldn’t make myself feel that it was my own body. After some frantic internet research, I discovered the term ‘transgender’ and my heart sank. I didn’t want a life filled with major surgeries and artificial hormone injections but all the resources I could find assured me that if I were transgender then that would be the best and fullest kind of life I could hope to lead.