Having grown up fairly openly trans and with my parents toleration, then been forced in late teens into a form of reparative therapy, that was the point where I KNEW that reparative therapy wasn't ever going to work for me.
The point where I started to feel that I had become a ghost, invisible to all but myself and entirely disconnected from my physical body and experiences.
That was the point of decision, to go back to the doctor tell him that his reparative therapy stank and that it was SRS or die for me.
The rest, as they say, is history!
