I grew up going to church. We went to two churches every Sunday. I was bored out of my mind; I specifically remember counting to 100 and past it in a small notebook waiting for the preacher to stop talking. Sunday became my least favorite day because I’d have to wear feminine formal wear. The adults would comment on my lack of feminine characteristics and the other kids found me to be an easy target. When I grew older, I began to refuse to attend.

Anytime someone would mention anything religious, I would tighten up and feel like I was being judged. Panic would fill my chest and I’d find myself looking for the closet exit. I have a confusing relationship with religion as well. I hated it all together until I met my best friend, who is the most open minded and understanding person I have ever met.