When I first met my devotedly Christian best friends, Lizzie and Lydia, they were expert evangelists, converting me immediately. Soon, our entire friendship revolved around Jesus. We began reading the Bible every night, attending Youth Group every Monday, and we created an Instagram account, attempting to spread the word of God. As a closeted queer individual, I felt alone, unworthy, and angry due to who I was forcing myself to be, but I couldn’t destroy the relationships that I had tirelessly created. My friends and family had finally become proud of the Christian Ashley, after all. However, I eventually accepted that, from Jesus, I could never find the sense of purpose or grounding that I needed. Instead, I turned to my childhood love of nature. Mother Nature held space for me to heal, to express myself, and to find solitude in a turbulent world. I sought out religion for emotional support, and yet, Nature provided me with even more: the freedom to love whomever I choose and to exist as my natural self. Without homophobia, neglect, or social constructs, I was allowed to create the Ashley that represents who I am, and not what others expect me to be. Social constructs did not exist in the outdoors; I was simply another element in the ecosystem working through my own cycle of life. Nature is the foundation of my existence, providing me with everything from food to clothing. By fully appreciating Nature, I learned about independence and accountability. As I let go of religion, my aspirations in life became clearer than ever. With my newfound appreciation for individuality, I could create genuine connections without hopes of converting my friends. As my connection with Nature grew deeper, it became apparent that she needed my help, too. On the news appeared images of flooded cities, and my eagerness to protect the land and its inhabitants introduced a new purpose in my life. I began to focus on becoming more involved in, and enhancing my education of, environmental advocacy. I joined an environmental justice fellowship, Buddy Jones & Friends, led by the first Black ranger in Sequoia National Park. As the sole youth representative, I researched the contributions of Black contractors in California National Parks. Although it was frightening to conduct research with experienced activists, I now had the courage to explore my academic passions. Today, on social media and in seminars with environmental justice groups, I search for ways to spread awareness about Mother Nature’s mortality. As news of new pipeline projects becomes regular and my hopes and dreams seem to slowly fade away, I remind myself of the unwavering support that Nature provided to me when I, too, needed help.