Thirty years ago to the day, my mother received her confirmation that God exists: me. That’s not as vain as it reads, I promise. Being handed her baby for the first time, while lying in a hospital bed after a complicated labour, it was the moment “she just knew there was something bigger up there”.

Theism is an intensely personal thing. You can’t teach belief nor can you accurately measure it. People, especially us reserved Brits, usually keep such things private – unless bitten by the baffling evangelism bug. We’ll never know how many people believe in God. Sure, the census reveals which religion people associate themselves with, but many of them could actually be atheists. When it comes to assessing the number with real faith in the man upstairs, we don’t have a clue.

However, the silence of believers is no longer their choice – it’s a requirement, because admitting belief has become socially taboo, especially in younger circles. This is a group which has been fizzing with excitement lately over a video of Stephen Fry denouncing God , should he exist, as “utterly evil, capricious and monstrous”.

Mr Fry’s articulate sensationalism , clipped from an Irish religious affairs programme, is now enjoying viral status, clocking up millions of views. All week it’s made countless appearances in my Facebook and Twitter timelines – breathlessly endorsed by passionate atheists with an almost religious zeal. Fervent atheism is achingly cool, you see.

But this isn’t an article tearing apart Mr Fry’s simplistic understanding of a magical interventionist God.

Nor is it a defence of God. Instead I write in defence of believers and their right not to be treated like they are deranged should they dare speak of their conviction. Madeleine Davies, a 32-year-old reporter at the Church Times who also happens to believe in God (handy for her job), spends entire evenings guzzling wine and trying to convince people she’s “normal” whenever she takes the leap and tells peers of her faith.

Like her I wish people were more tolerant – tolerant enough to at least debate the issues – as opposed to creating awkward environments that shut down discussion and make participants feel ashamed. Too many wrongly assume that those who believe in God do not have doubts or wish openly to ponder their thinking. Instead atheists and agnostics alike tend to opt for a reaction of pity and disbelief.

Underlying these patronising reactions is the supposition that believers are opposed to science, or in some way anti-Enlightenment. Again this is utter tosh. There are plenty of religious scientists around the world; good religion uses science well.

That’s why so many were dismayed at the Church of England’s weak and quite frankly abysmal refusal to support the three-parent baby law, passed by MPs earlier this week. This incredible scientific development alleviates pain and suffering – surely the mandate of the Church or any faith?

Talking and writing about belief in God is considered such a difficult subject that one relative warned me off it entirely: “Emma, just leave God alone and write about something else this week – like the Magna Carta anniversary.”

Never easily dissuaded, I thought I’d go the whole hog instead, seeing as it’s my 30th birthday and all. So here goes: I believe in God. And no, I’m not weird or particularly religious. Nor do I reject reason or scientific progress. I just happen to think that there is an ineffable force at play that accounts for all the things we can, and crucially can’t, explain.

Stephen Fry may feel that “the moment you banish him [God], life becomes simpler, purer, cleaner, more worth living” – but for millions of silent others, the polar opposite is true.