Nearly ten years ago, I spent a year living and studying in the USA, in a sleepy little college town nestled in the Adirondack mountains, just an hour away from the Canadian border. Take a look on the Google image search for Potsdam, NY, and you can see that this really was a quintessential slice of old-school Americana. I'd grown up loving the Back To The Future movies and The Wonder Years, so it was almost like both stepping back in time, and onto a film set, neatly aided and abetted by the fact that my English accent (at a small and semi-rural campus that didn't attract many foreign students) almost made me a celebrity.

"Oh my God," students and teachers alike would exclaim upon my making any kind of verbal assertion. "Are you from England?!" (It was actually exactly like that 'fantasy' scene in Love Actually where Kris Marshall goes into a bar and all he has to do is open his mouth and he's instantly an object of fascination.)

Although my overall 'major' (degree subject) was Professional Writing, because of the American 'Gen Ed' (general education) requirement, I had to take a wide variety of different classes to make up my credits, so that first term, I took English Composition, Community Health, Nutrition, and Human Biology. The nature of the American education system is much more demographically diverse than ours in the UK, insofar as you don't have "first year" classes, "second year" classes and so on, but rather a mixture of all different ages and stages, so it's usual for an 18-year-old in their first week of college, to be taking classes alongside twenty-somethings in the final year of their degree - along with much older people, as it's more common in the States for people to go to college at non-traditional times - and also to return to college later in life to retrain.

So, there was a wide variety of people of all ages in my classes, and, in particular, in my English class. This class, my teacher - who had been teaching since 1965, nearly 50 years - declared, was "special".

"It's lucky to get just one student per class who really stands out," she told me months later, when we had become friends. "But in this class, there are three. That's something special."

The three, she told me, were me (aw, shucks...), a guy named Joe* who had returned to college in his forties (and had a dorm room in the week whilst his wife stayed home with the kids!), and a student I will call Matthew, who resided in the local area - and whose parents our teacher had taught at the same university, decades before. (It was that kind of place - close community and tight-knit, where lives were intermingled over many generations. I liked this enormously.)

I had noticed Matthew straight away for two reasons: 1) he was extremely tall (at least 6'4"), and 2) he was - as our teacher had correctly recognised - extremely bright. He was one of the few who would speak up in class without being asked, and was obviously very thoughtful and well-read. Once, when we had to do a 'cultural journal' and write about a film or a book that had really impacted us, I wrote about the film 'Margaret' that I had just seen and been mesmerised by. The teacher asked me to read aloud my journal to the class, which I did, and encouraged everyone to watch the film. Matthew was the only one who did, and told me his (as always, well and carefully constructed) thoughts the following week. Another time, we had to write a poem in the style of the book we were reading - Spoon River - and aim to have an enigmatic 'twist' at the end. Mine was obviously a bit too esoteric, as once I'd read it out, everyone just looked baffled... except Matthew. "They're her grandparents," he twigged, with a smile (everyone else continued to look baffled, and alas, so will you, dear reader, as I've long since lost the poem - but he was right).

I therefore assumed that someone this on the ball (and this tall!) must be one of the older students, so it was an unbelievable shock when I learned that, not only was he not in his mid-twenties, he was actually not even 18. He was instead a final-year high-school student who was so advanced, they had run out of things for him to do, so had sent him up to the college instead. He intended on going away to a different institution the following year, but was just making a head-start on his degree credits now.

This was clarified to me by Matthew's mother, who, by coincidence, I had also got to know, as she worked as an advisor in the college's international office s. She was an Anglophile so we had immediately hit it off, and she soon realised I must be in a class with her son.

"He says there's an English girl in his class who always wears a hat," she told me. "This is you!"

As term progressed, I got to know Matthew and his mother, Jennifer, pretty well, as Jennifer coordinated a lot of the student events I was involved in, and Matthew and I were in the same class three or four days a week. I also got to know Jennifer's husband, Steve, and their teenage daughter, as they would often attend various college events arranged by Jennifer, and soon I started being invited round to their house. I thought what a thoroughly great family they were - together since their teens (having met as students at the university their son was now attending), Jennifer and Steve had a fantastic "cabin the woods" type home where they chopped their own firewood, whilst Steve ran his own company and Jennifer was very involved in all sorts of community initiatives. The whole family was successful, talented, popular - real 'pillar of the community' types.

So Matthew really did seem to "have it all" - the great family, the integrated community, plenty of friends and a brilliant intellect, already outshining 20-something college students whilst still a high-school senior. Frankly, his future looked so bright it was nearly blinding.

The next year, I returned to the UK, but remained in loose contact with the family over the usual platforms, and saw that Matthew had gone off to college in a big city the following year. His mother enjoyed using Facebook to update her friends on family news, and every year, on their respective birthdays, would do a nice little write-up on her children, along with a sweet childhood picture. The write-up would be along the lines of, "happy birthday to my amazing son Matthew. You're imaginative, kind, quirky, and talented. I'm so lucky to be your mom". Nice, right? And she'd do that every year, for each of them, without fail, and had done for the nearly ten years of our Facebook friendship.

So, when she stopped, I naturally wondered why. I am, sadly, very sensitised to sudden silences from people in that community, because what I have learned since I left shows the community is being systematically decimated by what is quite obviously vaccine injury. One guy I was friends with, who would only be around 30 now, posted an utterly desolate update regarding the sudden spate of unexpected deaths in the community, which he could not understand and was heartbroken by (the more than fifty comments under the post reported similar, "inexplicable" surges in sudden death in their home towns).

Moreover, I was horrified to discover how draconian my old college was being about vaccines, and had threatened that, if all students were not fully vaccinated within weeks of term commencing, they would be immediately expelled with no refund of tuition fees. Within weeks of issuing this hideous ultimatum, the new college president, aged just 56, "died suddenly" for unexplained reasons.

So, when I noticed my old friend Jennifer had abruptly stopped posting on FB, you can understand why I feared the worst. However, upon investigating her profile and the last thing she posted, I was quickly able to ascertain her silence and the cessation of children's birthday announcements was not attributable to illness or death, but to the fact that her son Matthew - the very tall, all-American, blue-eyed boy - now "identifies" as a woman named Maci.

I wish I was joking but I'm not. Matthew - who, when I knew him, had always looked, dressed, and behaved in an entirely "manly" manner - has changed his pronouns to she/them, changed both his first name and his last (the latter I suspect, very sadly, signalling family estrangement), and seems to have surrendered all his early promise in favour of "gender activism".

Unfortunately, this is the risk parents take if they send their children to the sinister indoctrination centres that are big city liberal universities, which exist only to programme and brainwash and - ultimately - to destroy. Matthew entered that institution brimming with promise, but as that most evil of all evil things (a 'cis' white male), every ideologue and agenda in that university would have been hellbent on undermining, inverting, and utterly destroying him. Demonic forces are real and nowhere do they flourish more extensively, and with more devastating success, than at US big city university campuses (please note that fully 36% of white female college grads in the US agree with the statement that "men can get pregnant").

Nominally, Matthew's own parents were liberals, but there is an enormous chasm of difference between 50-something liberals in small-town, semi-rural America, and big-city liberals in their 20s. Matthew's parents may have voted Democrat and made all the right, fashionable noises about social issues, but in reality, they were quite traditional and small 'c' conservative. They were married, they valued the family unit, they were quite strict with their children, and even, indeed, with me (I once went round to their house and was not allowed a glass of wine with my meal unless I could produce ID to prove I was over 21).

Jennifer, also, was a proud feminist and very involved in women's issues, such as helping out at the local domestic violence shelter. She certainly could have answered the question "what is a woman" and would probably have been the type of woman likely to get described with that absurdist acronym, 'TERF' (I find it quite mind-boggling to state that believing in biological sex makes you a 'radical feminist', as this would necessarily suggest that extremist groups that adhere to strict gender roles, such as ISIS and the Taliban, are in fact "radical feminists").

So I know for a certain fact that her tall, deep-voiced son coming home from college one day and announcing, "mom, I'm now a woman. My name is Maci and my pronouns are she/them" would have been an awful, incomprehensible, heart-breaking shock. As it would have been for Matthew's dad - whom Matthew was the spitting image of - and probably his sister, too (at least until she herself went to university and encountered the same brainwashing).

The fact that Matthew has changed not just his first name, but his surname, too, is a smarting slap in the face to the family that raised him and strongly suggests estrangement. That they will not accept his "new identity" so he has severed the binding family tie completely by sacrificing the family name.

That is why Jennifer has stopped doing her touching annual tributes to her children on their birthdays. It is because she cannot bring herself to call her beloved son "my daughter", and who the hell can blame her - it's just such a hideous, awful thing, a terrible bomb to explode in the middle of a once-happy family. All of it entirely unnecessary and all the result of sinister social contagion and military-level brainwashing as exists in the Marxist indoctrination camps known as universities.

To make the whole thing even more bizarre and ludicrous, Matthew has not actually made any attempts to adjust his appearance to make him look more female. He hasn't grown his hair or started wearing women's clothes. He looks exactly the same as when I knew him (just even taller). But we are now to, nevertheless, agree that this 6'5", broad-shouldered, very male-looking man, is a woman and call him Maci.

Enemy forces have always targeted fighting-age men for destruction, as these are the forces that keep a society safe. Men 18-50 have died in their millions fighting off invaders and trying to preserve their cultures over the centuries, and that's why sinister social engineers keep staging events to try and get rid of them. Historically, these events have been more 'traditional' - round them up and shoot them (e.g., the Katyn massacre), but warfare has since advanced and become far more psychological and sophisticated.

There's no need to shoot a nation's strong young men these days, when you can just turn them into women instead. Matthew - and millions like him - has been neutralised. He has been thoroughly inverted and brainwashed so that his natural tendencies as a man (to fight off social threats and to protect the more vulnerable) are suppressed and now he is subsumed by what can frankly only be described as profound mental illness. He was not "genetically predisposed" to get this illness. It isn't a result of terrible childhood trauma. It was strategically installed into him by the enemy forces that have infiltrated every dominant social institution in the Western world.

A cursory glance at Matthew's social media confirms how completely subsumed in all the cultural madness he is, as he dutifully wore the mask and took all the injections. It's all so utterly tragic and such a terrible, unnecessary waste. And the final insult is that the fortune his parents spent on sending him to the institution that destroyed him, has not even translated into any kind of professional success. He is stuck stacking shelves in a supermarket - the exact same job he had been doing part-time as a high-school student.

So what can we do about these kinds of awful stories? All we can do is share them and shine light onto the terrible darkness behind all this, in the hope it reaches people in time that they make different decisions. Please remember that evil is real and that the most diabolical forces are not after well-established adults who know their own minds - they are after the young, the unformed, and the impressionable - because they are the future. So we must do all we can to sound the alarm that this future is dangerously imperilled - and to protect it at all costs.

(*All names changed.)