October 11 is National Coming Out Day. For that reason I wrote this new "coming out" post. After all, coming out is not just a one time ordeal.
Then, Emma and I were invited to share our story by recording a video for the Voices of Hope Project.
Just before the video was launched I began this blog and wrote my coming out post and created a partner Facebook page. That was an incredibly empowering and vulnerable moment when I clicked "Publish" and then "Post" on Facebook.
Since those days I have received numerous messages of support and love. I have had people approach me in unexpected places to express their support. That was something I had never experience before in connection with my sexual orientation. Knowing that my life experience had inspired, helped, and taught others was deeply humbling and uplifting for me. It made me feel that everything I had experienced up to that point in my life pertaining to my struggles had finally been for a reason.
I haven't even mentioned how many amazing people I have come to know and love through this. I went from feeling completely alone to having a large community of friends-many of whom have become like family-in my corner. I also became more open about my being gay with members of the Church. This also resulted in so many positive experiences, new connections, teaching opportunities, and friends.
And even more amazing was when Emma and I started receiving the love and support from some of our family members. So much healing happened in 2019. I was finally experiencing a level of love and acceptance I had longed for all my life. To be me and be loved for it.
Don't get me wrong. There were still those who were unkind and insulting from all sides. Friends were lost, and family members were upset and said hurtful things. People did not think I was being authentic to myself. I received pushback from all sides who thought I was living a lie or that I wasn't a worthy member of the Church. They questioned and criticized the legitimacy of my marriage. However, the critics were a tiny fraction of the response I got compared to those who reached out in love. To me, this shows how much good there is and how people are changing. It gives me hope!
However, there is still work to be done.
A while ago I was reading through comments from a dear friend's post about their experiences being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and a gay man. It was a beautiful post that expressed both the good that is going on and the work still needing to be done in helping LGBTQ+ members and nonmembers feel welcome and loved. Again, there was vast support and love expressed.
One of those who commented expressed their frustration and annoyance about how LGBTQ+ members who come out and especially those who leave the Church and cut ties with members. They felt so hurt when one of their friends did this, because they would have been one of those who would have loved and welcomed them no matter their decision to stay in or leave the Church. She stated that is wasn't right to stereotype all members as intolerant and hateful.
I absolutely agree with her statement and understand her frustration and hurt. I also intimately understand the other side and the why of their choices.
Most LGBTQ+ members of the Church have lived lives of secrecy and suffocating fear. We live in a complex, intricately crafted web of lies and masks. Let me tell you, it is exhausting to keep up, and it takes every ounce of mental, emotional, and physical energy to keep it up. We feel we have no choice. Otherwise we feel we will lose everything-our family, our friends, our faith. We sacrifice who we are and our incredible God given attributes and talents.
For many, the exhaustion of keeping up with the web forces them to choose between finally telling the truth or ending their life.
Too many chose the latter.
For those who choose the first, we feel that to do so we must be ready and willing to lose everything and start completely over.
That's why when many LGBTQ+ Church members come out they make a clean cut of it. They cut ties with family and friends and start over completely. This results in so much pain for those left behind. They feel betrayed, abandoned, and rejected. Especially the ones who would have loved and supported them.
I believe this happens, because for the first time in life, we feel a sense of freedom and empowerment we have never before felt. We can FINALLY be ourselves. We FINALLY feel safe. We FINALLY feel in control of our lives and who we let in it. We are extremely protective of this world we have created.
So, why would we let those who we feared and who caused so much hurt into this new world? Even if it wasn't intentional and if they'd have loved and supported us?
For me, it all had to do with feeling safe and accepted. Those who were part of that world of fear and pain were all labeled as unsafe. I spent the majority of my life not trusting anyone. That isn't going to solve itself over night. It takes a very long time to trust others.
Another reason I think this is common is for the simple reason that we need the time to relearn who we are. Many of us spend years stuffing down our true selves for most of our lives and created an identity to match what society said we should have. That also takes a long time to dismantle.
Then there's the buried hurt, fear, anger, resentment, and trauma that needs to be fleshed out. There is so much healing, recovery, learning how to create & hold boundaries, self-love and acceptance, and forgiveness-for ourselves and others-that needs to be worked through.
Oh, and for those of faith, there is the whole relationship with God that needs to be reconciled. Basically, it starts at step 0. And for the record, though my testimony and faith are stronger than they have ever been, the work of reconciling my faith and my sexual orientation is a constant.
After years of work, the scaffolding is finally removed to reveal a new person. The true person.
I can't speak for others, but for me it took cutting many ties to accomplish this. It was painful, but vital. Over the past year I have started the process of inviting those people back into my life. Some have gratefully accepted the invitation, some have rejected it, and some invitations are still on hold to be sent out.
Here's my advice to those who have been extended an invitation by an LGBTQ+ family member or friend to be in their new world: Be grateful. You may not understand why they cut some people out, kept others, and brought in new people. That's not for you to understand. You're place is to be there; to love, to support, and respect their boundaries. You have been entrusted to be part of this new world they are creating. They have considered you safe to be there. They trust you.
Please don't betray that trust, because you may never get it back again.
And here's the part I think most people really don't understand. Coming out is not a one time event. It is a lifetime journey. It is living a constant balancing act between knowing when I should come out and when I shouldn't.
Every time I make a new friend I have to choose whether to come out or not.
Every time I move to a new neighborhood I have to choose whether to come out or not.
Every new ward (what we call a congregation in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints).
Every new bishop.
Every new stake president.
Every other new church leader I work with.
Every new job.
Every new work colleague.
Every new organization I become involved in.
Every new family member.
My children.
My children's friends.
My children's friends' parents.
My children's future spouses.
My children's future in-laws
My future grandchildren.
And then you have to add in the variable of my being married to Emma and our children. Every time I come out, they are coming out by default. That affects Emma in all the ways listed above. It affects our children in all the ways listed above.
I have to accept that every time I come out there's a chance it will reflect negatively on me, Emma, and our children. I have to be okay with losing a friend or family member, being unfairly labeled as a pedophile, unworthy Church member, an unsafe person in my ward and neighborhood, and whatever other labels are chosen to be used. I know that it is more likely people will react with kindness and love, but I also have to be ready for that.
Is your mind exploding yet? Do you have a better understanding of the complexity and perpetual state of vulnerability I and other LGBTQ+ individuals live in?
For those who have been cut out by a friend or loved one who has come out, be patient, empathetic, compassionate, respectful, and forgiving. Show love. Give it time. When they invite you back in, be grateful and trustworthy.
For those LGBTQ+ members and nonmembers who have cut others out, be willing and open minded to let those people back in. On your time table, of course. You will find that those you cut out were more likely to respond in love. There may be those who will not, but the rejection is worth the risk to find those who will accept your invitation. And I promise it won't be as painful as it used to be, because you are a new person, and you are strong.
To those who haven't come out yet-keep going. Choose to stay. There are so many who love you and are ready to help you. Some you already know. Others will be found. No one can tell you the right time and place to come out , but when it comes you will know. Just please choose to stay. There is so much worth living for on the other side. I promise.
So, yes, I will be flying a Pride flag outside my home this weekend ( if it arrives in the mail in time haha). I am proud of who I am, and I know God is, too. I also fly that flag so that other LGBTQ+ members and nonmembers will know that me, my family, and my home are a safe place for them and are welcome.
After all, we are ALL God's children. There is a place at His table for everyone single one of us. So there should be a place at every table of those who claim to be a disciple of Christ.
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