I think God messed up,’ I confessed to my mum Beverly. ‘He gave me a boy’s brain instead of a girl’s brain.’
Aged eight, I was starting to realise that I was different from other little girls. While my classmates liked to wear pretty pink dresses and play with dolls, I was drawn to toy cars and Lego, liked to wear T-shirts and shorts, and preferred building forts with the boys.
‘You’re perfect just the way you are,’ Mum said.
Mum and my dad, Rick, had adopted me when I was 10 days old. The home we shared with my
