When I was younger, my mother for one reason or another became a Mormon, which meant my siblings and I had to join her every Sunday at church. Some of the time it was O.K. and I had fun with the other children; there were other times I was frightened as I learnt about God. I was scared to do anything in case I displeased him, so I ultimately wound up making lots of little mistakes and went to bed at night praying fervently not to be sent to hell.

The other members of the church were very pushy and tried to make my mother do things she was not comfortable with; gradually we stopped going to church - but the fear of God was still there.

As I grew into my teens I began to rebel and did everything I could to push the frightened feeling away. Then I got to a very low point in my life. I tried to kill myself, and as I did I cried out for help. God answered. Shortly after, I became pregnant and had a son, who I named Adam after the first man on earth. I was deliriously happy, but I felt that there was something missing, so I searched for what ever it was.

I started taking Adam to a local toddler group run by the Methodists at the 'Welcome' centre near to where I live. I was a little apprehensive but was made to feel loved and welcome. I got to meet a lot of new people and agreed, after a lot of persuasion, to became a volunteer helper at the 'Welcome'. I didn't know at the time that I was getting closer to finding what I was searching for. I started to listen to the teachings of the Lord again, and knew that he was with me as he had always been. I am still a volunteer and it's been a hard struggle to find the right path, but I'm HERE - and I'm not frightened anymore.