From Saint
to “Sinner”: Brig Bagley’s Story of Coming Out in a Mormon Culture
27 May 2012
1 The Good Little Boy
I was always
different. I liked school. I didn’t like
sports. Homework was fun. Baseball was
boring. I played with legos and barbies
(when at my gal friend’s house). I was
teased through all grades, even up through some high school. But I thought it was all normal for various
reasons. I was Mormon. I was smarter
than most kids (at least mom said I was).
Starting about fifth grade, I was aware of some new feelings. I had a few guy friends, and I was fascinated
by them. I sometimes made up the
craziest fantasies about them that I held on to for over 10 years. Even sexual ones. From as early as I could remember, I wanted
to be around boys much more than girls.
For a while, I chalked it up as fear of cooties. But the cooties never went away like adults
said they would.
When the
school classes and ‘birds and bees’ lessons of sexuality came up about fifth
grade, I was often confused why I didn’t have the feelings I was told I
would. They were always applied
differently—towards other boys. But for
some reason, it didn’t really bother me.
I didn’t think I was broken. I
thought it would either correct itself, or go away. I didn’t know any better. Sexual things were bad to talk about as a
Mormon. So I didn’t talk about them. My parents were very involved in my life and
made sure I had the proper training and thoughts on sexual things, but it was
left as something “bad” until married in the temple. Even then it was only ok to a certain
level. My family was one where you don’t
dare talk sexual things. We were
supposed to know it was bad. So I just compromised
by fostering my fantasies and never experimenting. I wanted to make my parents and friends happy
by doing what I was told. I wanted to be
an example to other people by making none of the mistakes my friends or other ‘bad
people’ did. And I was. I was one of the more perfect kids you would
ever find. My parents were proud and
happy, and everyone else told their kids to be like me. It never got to my head, though. I was and still am a perfectionist, and
absorbing praise was imperfect. So I got
used to shrugging it off.
2 Something
was Wrong
There came a
point that blissfully living in my fantasies was not going to save me. Time eventually unfolded to a point where
levels of sexuality were expected to be manifested. Mormons go to youth dances starting at 14
years old. My parents wouldn’t let me
skip them… it was in our culture to go and dance with girls. It was normal to be scared or awkward—but the
cooties were all gone—so this was where Mormon boys could appropriately show a
liking towards girls. But the cooties
weren’t gone. Awkward never became
adept, and scared never became satisfying.
I was still expected to go to the dances and be really close to a
girl. I had to pretend to like some of
them. Since it never came naturally, I
was labeled as shy or quiet. So I became
the shy kid. All my friends around me
either embraced the opportunity to hold a girl, or actually WERE shy. So I stayed where I ‘fit’ best, with the shy
people.
At this
point, I knew I had feelings for boys, and not girls. I don’t think I called them gay feelings, but
I was certainly aware of gay people and gay actions. I avoided them like the plague, fearful of
being discovered of having these feelings.
I wouldn’t even say the word “gay”, since it was only associated with
bad things. I remember my parents
specifically once telling me that a host of a TV show had a lisp because it was
God’s curse to gay people for their lifestyle.
I didn’t have that lisp, so I wasn’t gay, right?
I also
remember a couple instances when quite young (about 14) that my dad thought I
liked a girl. This girl was an older
sister of a guy friend that I liked. I
wanted to go to his house to play with him a lot, and my parents thought I
wanted to see this girl. Since I was
eager to seem normal, I agreed with them that I had a crush on this girl. I even convinced myself that I did. But it was really the younger brother that
was about my age that I liked.
At age 16,
Mormons are finally allowed to date. Of
course, not every family follows that rule, but mine did. As my sweet 16 approached, my parents were
very interested in learning about which girls I was going to take out
first. “I don’t know,” I would say. I honestly had no interest in going on dates
with girls. Why would I spend money and
time on someone or something I didn’t care about? It was my lack of desire and interest that
set my parents off. They were very
concerned, and, I’m sure, looked up everything in the book that could attribute
to this unusual behavior in their son. I
wouldn’t be surprised if they spoke to church leaders and friends to get
ideas.
One
afternoon when my dad was home from work, he and my mom took me into the guest
room downstairs and closed the door. I
knew something serious was up—since the only times my parents kept my younger
brother out of a conversation were when I was in some sort of trouble, which of
course was rare. “Brigham, your mother
and I have been praying about you. We
have been concerned about some things, and feel inspired by the Holy Ghost that
you are struggling with same-gender attractions. Is this true?” I was shocked. How did they know? I’ve never said
anything. I haven’t had a problem with
any pornography at all, and even had masturbation under control. Over time, I came to believe that they made a
lucky, educated guess. I used to believe
in true revelation and inspiration, but I never had an experience that I can
rationally call legitimate or super-terrestrial. I would convince myself I did, just like the
crush on that one girl. The conversation
with my parents included things like “you know that two men can’t reproduce,”
and “you can’t have a family with two male parents,” and “we are going to talk
to some professionals with LDS family services to see what help we can get
you.” All the things that gay Mormons fear most from their parents if they were
to be discovered or come out: rejection, reparative therapy, and
condescension.
The
“therapy” was actually short lived. I
hated going, and resented my parents for taking me. From this point on, I irreparably emotionally
disconnected from my parents. My
relationship with them has never been the same.
I felt betrayed that they thought I was broken and needed fixing of some
sort. I was a good kid and rarely did
anything most kids were expected to do in the growing and learning years. The therapy stopped for some reason. I’m not sure why. I might have said I was cured or getting
better, or begged it to stop. I just
can’t remember. I only remember one or
two times where I talked with the therapist.
The others times we went to see him I remember my mom going in to talk
to him while I waited in the lobby. But
the sessions ended, and we never spoke of any of it again for about 8 years.
I remember
the therapist mentioning another kid in my stake seeing him for the same reason
I was seeing him. I was bound and
determined figure out whom this kid was. I even asked a friend of mine that I
liked (and thought might have feelings like mine) if he knew the doctor I was
seeing. He didn’t. Darn it. This same kid that I liked continued
to be an interesting story. There was a
high adventure trip and campout coming up in the near future where both I and
this kid I liked would be going. My dad
approached me in the guest room and closed the door (uh-oh). He told me he was worried there would be a
boy I was attracted to going on these trips and wanted to know if he should
come along to make sure I didn’t get into trouble. It shocked me first that he knew of this, and
I accused him of reading my journal. He
denied this, but I still believed he might have. If it wasn’t my journal, he was just getting
really good at guessing. My parents
were, of course, extremely protective, involved, and hands-on in my life. So I think someone that knew me as well as my
parents could have guessed the same things. To avoid me “getting into trouble,”
my dad arranged work so he could come on these trips. Although nothing weird came out of it, I
still felt betrayed by my dad for not trusting me. Along these same lines, my parents never
allowed my brother or me to go to any sleepovers. “Nothing good ever happens at sleepovers,”
they would say.
3 Living
the Cookie-Cutter Young Adult Life
Four years
later, I applied for and was called on a mission for the LDS church. I made up these reasons for going like, “I
wanted to learn how to be a good father,” and “I want to help others find the
happiness I found in the church.” But it was all made up. I didn’t do it maliciously; I just did it
because I knew it would give me approving nods and help me along the
cookie-cutter life that was already defined for me as a Mormon. But, despite the brainwashed reasons for
going, I did make a good time of the two years I had in Arkansas. I made great friends, learned invaluable
things, and—I believe—grew up and matured dramatically. I was a good missionary and served
honorably. I didn’t mess around with
other missionaries; I didn’t do anything dishonorable. I had to kick masturbation just before
leaving (my stake president wouldn’t let me go unless I was 4 months free of
it). I slipped up a couple times on the
mission, but my mission president was compassionate and encouraging about
it. I didn’t EVER, though, say a word
about liking guys.
How did I
deal with living with guys next to me for 24 hours a day for 2 years while
having gay feelings? The same way I had as a teenager. I held on to my fantasies and never acted on
them. Somehow, it worked. I was distracted enough as a kid with school,
swimming, and band to get over it. As a
missionary, you are always busy and distracted from your personal life, so it
really wasn’t that hard. But, what is
the expectation of a returned missionary once home? Guess…
Every
returned missionary is expected to attend a singles ward, search for, and date
a young daughter of God to take to the temple for a worthy marriage for time
and all eternity. So, as usual, I did what
I could to follow expectations and please those around me. I went on dates, just like as a
teenager. This time, I didn’t have my
parents to pay for food and gas to make as pleasurable an event as
possible. I swear they always had in
mind that if I had good experiences dating girls, I would eventually like
them. That didn’t quite work out as
planned. Now that I had to date girls
all on my own dime, the experience spurned more second thoughts about it
all. Although there is nothing wrong
with having a good time with girls (meaning clean Mormon fun), I never saw the
reason for me to be fiscally responsible for it, or for it to go any further
that clean fun. You would think that
pretty girls fighting over you would make you reconsider, but it never
did. It only pushed me farther from it,
although it felt good to think that I was attractive to people. Even married male adults would comment that I
was good-looking and would be married in no time. But that was the farthest thing from my
desires—marriage with a girl that is.
But I had no choice but to think about it daily. Every church lesson in a singles ward is
about marriage or finding someone to marry.
It’s like a factory trying to produce married couples. I was forced to do everything I could date
and look towards marriage. I was in
marriage prep classes, went to the temple monthly, and took girls on dates as
much as I could stomach.
Along with
this struggle to fit into the Mormon marriage scheme, I was struggling inside
to find out why I had these feelings and what I was supposed to do with
them. I was on my own for most of the
time. Other than the 3-6 months that I
was forced to go to therapy with my parents, I dealt with this issue completely
on my own to this point. No church
leaders knew, at least not from my lips.
No one would really guess, since I come off mostly masculine. My most feminine qualities are cleanliness
and aversion of sporting events. But
being alone in Mormon world doesn’t exist.
We ‘always have God and Christ with us, who know what we are going
through. We are never alone’. I held on to this. That Christ knows what I am going through, and
that if I am righteous enough, all will be well. I prayed frequently every day, nearly always
saying something like, “God, please take these feelings away from me.” I would try to pray the gay away, as I call
it now. I was a frequent temple
patron. I held numerous callings, often
running the singles ward all three hours long.
I played the organ and piano, served as Elder’s Quorum first counselor,
was a ward missionary, did my home teaching, taught Gospel Principles, went on
countless splits with the missionaries in our ward and fed them dinner twice a
month, read scriptures daily, kept a daily journal… the list goes on. No matter how righteous I was, my life became
more and more meaningless.
4 Thinking
Outside of the Mormon Box
All this
time, I would wonder… why go to school, work so hard, and work to make money
every day to spend it on a woman I didn’t love, and endure “appropriate sex”
with her to have the children that I would be lying to all my life? What was the point to go on? I saw nothing
exciting in front of me. Sure, I liked
my schooling… but to what end? Would I always be in this single state, wanting
to get married so I could be normal, but not wanting to because I wasn’t? Where were the answers? Who could I really
turn to? For two long years, I turned to Christ, but His end was silent. The church had nothing new to offer me. It was all the same, useless
information. I tried it all. Although I was not about to try the whole
marriage thing—I knew enough about marriage that I could not go in to it
without feeling something similar to the love everyone was talking about. And what was love? Is it just as fake as the
“warm fuzzies” that come along with the Holy Ghost that is supposed to “always
be with me”?
The same
year I returned home from my mission was the year of Proposition 8. If anything could make it more confusing to
me at this point, it was this Prop 8 business.
At this point in my life, I regret to admit that because of my
intentions to be a “good Mormon,” I did what I was told and supported the proposition. But I read the resources from both
sides. I knew what was exaggerated and
what was totally false. I understood
both sides of the issue. But I let the
prophet make the decision for me. I
didn’t think for myself. I did what my
peers in the ward were doing because I was expected to. But this entire event began a new thinking
process inside of me. I didn’t know it
at the time, but it did. The uproar and
distaste with Mormons after the successful passing of the proposition didn’t
quite hit me until years later, though.
It took me a while to REALLY understand.
I was blinded like so many Mormons.
The harder I
worked to be the Mormon I wasn’t, the more miserable I became. I even went to the point of getting a girlfriend. That lasted all of 3 weeks. One of those weeks I was out of town. She expected way too much of me, especially
for a first relationship. Holding her
hand was uncomfortable. I didn’t get why
people did it. I refused to kiss her. Bleh.
I even ended it over email because I cared so little about the
relationship.
That
Christmas break I admitted to my mom that I wasn’t happy with my life. I felt lost, confused, and unhappy. She told my dad—which I should have expected,
even though I had thought it was in confidence that I told her. They lived in a new house at this point, so
there was no guest room. Before I left
to drive back to school, they came in my room and closed the door. This was the first time in 8 years that the
topic of my attractions came up. They
asked if that was why I was so unhappy.
I said it was. They thought it
was their fault for not taking care of this more fully when I was younger, so
they went on a mad hunt to find every resource they could to pass on to
me.
For about three
weeks, they sent me website after website of church documents and interviews
about people with so-called same-sex attraction. They all said the same unhelpful things. They were all based on the same principles I
had tried to live my whole life up to this point. It surrounded me with anger and
depression. I couldn’t focus on
school. I was losing my sanity. I asked them to stop sending me material and
to let me figure it out on my own. They
honored my request. I finally was
respected by them to take care of it on my own.
5 I’m
Not the Only One
Once I
started taking things into my own hands, everything changed. I began thinking for myself and doubting
things. I told my bishop that I liked
guys. His reaction surprised me. He had tons of compassion, since his own son
had feelings just like me. He said he
was fully supportive and knew that if anyone could figure it out, I would. He didn’t know what to do for me, but told me
I had his full support and love.
Although he didn’t offer much practical help, he provided emotional
support that I felt was more sincere than my own parents. It was a huge relief to have open
conversation with someone other than my parents about my feelings that I felt
actually listened. But he still didn’t
have the answers, so I kept looking.
The first
thing I did on my own was get online and search. I typed “gay Mormon” and “gay LDS” into
Facebook, Google, and Craigslist. I
didn’t know where else to go. I found 3
things that accelerated my thinking process.
There was a Facebook group for gay Mormons that a guy started. I was absolutely shocked that something like
this existed. There are really so many
of us that there is a Facebook group???
This is back in Early 2010 too. I
sent the group creator a message, but didn’t dare join the group in fear of
anyone finding out. This guy was very
nice, and I was just really relieved and even surprised that I wasn’t the only
Mormon with these feelings. He was busy
at that time with his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, so I didn’t hear from him much.
So I kept looking.
I joined a
group called North Star. This is a
church-approved group that recruits people experiencing Same-Sex Attraction (SSA)
to engage in uplifting and positive discussion about feelings with others
experiencing the same feelings. At
first, I loved this group. Mainly, of
course, because I could hear the dozens of other stories of people just like
me. And to feel accepted by a group of
people that understood me exactly. But
over time, I realized that this was just a cause for more suppression. “Now that you recognize you have these
feelings, you can overcome them through Christ”—the same dead rhetoric that I
had been following for years. They
didn’t have the answers just like my Bishop didn’t. They were just blind leading the blind. They didn’t really know what they were
doing. Eventually I left the group. It began to feel like a ‘Rameumptom’, where
useless rhetoric was repeated by all for the approval of all others. “I was tempted to look at this other boy on
the bus, but I prayed in my head and felt the spirit.” Stupid stories like that came up over and
over again, and everyone would comment how proud they were. And when someone “messed up” they posted
their guilt and the group would comment on that. It was ridiculous.
I also read
a book called “In Quiet Desperation,” by Fred and Marilyn Matis and Ty
Mansfield. I liked the first part of the
book, which was Marilyn’s story of her gay son working through his attractions
his whole life. However, her son Stewart
committed suicide at a church building when he could no longer live the hellish
lie. The comment that bothered me most
was when Marilyn said something to the effect of “Although we mourn the loss
and don’t know how Stewart will be judged for this crime he committed against
his life, we can rest assured and be more at peace knowing he kept his temple
covenants and never acted out on his homosexual feelings.” That set me off. How dare anyone say it’s better to kill
yourself then break your church’s rules?
The second half of the book was pretty much a sermon by Ty, a gay guy
that has convinced himself that he can live a Mormon life as a non-practicing
homosexual. It was again the same
useless information the church shoved down me all my life. So I didn’t like it. Ty is now married to a woman with a child. He claims to be happy, and although I doubt
he is as happy as he claims, I’ll claim to be happy for him.
In
conjunction with North Star and Ty Mansfield is a camp called “Journey into
Manhood,” or JiM. This is a secret camp
in the woods where a group of SSA (same-sex attracted) guys get together to
build their manhood and receive “appropriate male affection” to help overcome
their attractions. At one point, I
considered going to this, but it was ridiculously expensive and somewhere
pretty far from me. I’m forever grateful
I never went, because the camp is infested with affection-hungry men, mostly
over 30—and including Ty Mansfield. I
would have hated it. It was a mix of
completely awkward situations and the horrid EFY (Especially for Youth) I went
to as a youth, where you had endless lectures on church topics and were forced
to participate in ridiculous activities with girls. North Star is the biggest recruiter for JiM,
and Ty is a counselor there regularly.
That is enough information to know it’s not for me.
The last bit
of research I did was a posting on Craigslist. I posted that I wanted to have a
non-sexual intimate relationship with another guy. I posted in Provo, UT, Salt Lake, UT, and
where I was at the time in San Luis Obispo, CA.
I received countless responses from overly sexualized Utah guys. Not many hits in CA, but the ones that did
come were much more sincere. However, I
did find 2 or 3 guys in Utah that responded that I have kept in touch with to
this day. I exchanged emails and texts
with them and talked about their experiences and feelings—how they were dealing
with it all as a gay Mormon. It was very
educational.
One person I
talked to referred me to a gay social network. Once I got on that, I was
hooked. I was talking to guys that told
me I was cute—that were adorable themselves.
I felt special and I felt giddy.
Feelings I never felt before. I
was actually liked by people I liked.
And it was OK. I finally felt
normal. I spent way too much time on
this website, but it was all worth it.
It built my confidence and gave me experience that I had never had
before. I became really good at
filtering out people that wanted only a hook-up. I only met a couple people on the website
while in CA. The first introduced me to
a group of gays at the college I went to, mostly engineers like me. It was extremely satisfying to know that
there were countless gay engineers too, even if not Mormon. These became my closest friends until
graduation a year later. I even went out
with one of them for a little while. My
life in college was forever changed once I found the people I could be myself
around. These guys weren’t Mormon, so I
didn’t relate perfectly with them, but it was refreshing to see this very
different perspective of being gay. It
was just as legitimate as my perspective, and I cherished the diversity.
6 My
First Experiences Dating Guys
The guy that
created the Facebook group randomly returned my messages in about March of
2010. Since I was going to Utah to
General Conference with my family (a big Mormon gathering that happens twice a
year), I planned on meeting this guy for dinner just before my mission
reunion. I flew up early and separately
from my parents, so I had a day and a half to plan as I pleased. My friend at BYU picked me up and had me stay
with him that day. I actually decided to
come out to him that first night. He had
no idea I was gay, but was very supportive and interested. He did, however, express his hope that I stay
true to our beliefs. The next day I met
with a gay couple for lunch and talked with them for a few hours. One of them I had met either via the Facebook
group or Craigslist. They were cute together
and had very fascinating stories of coming out as Mormons. They admitted that life wasn’t easy, but that
they were infinitely happier now than before coming out. They experienced depression that I never
had.
After our
visit, I met with the FB group creator.
We met at Costa Vida in Sandy, UT.
I was there first, and when he walked into the doors, I swear I had a
love at first sight experience. I
thought at the time that he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. I tried my best to hide my infatuation, but
he told me later that it was obvious. I
bought him dinner, since it was his birthday.
I asked him countless questions about his beliefs. He said that he believed he could reach the
Celestial Kingdom—the highest level of heaven for Mormons—being a gay
person. He didn’t really know how
exactly, but he said he knew. I ended up
adopting this belief system myself, in a way.
After my mission reunion, he texted me and asked if I wanted to meet up
again. I eagerly agreed. He drove back down from SLC to Provo and
picked me up. We ended up parking by the
mall for about two hours. This was the
most intense two hours of my life. I was
debating in my head at this point what direction I was going to go: stay in the
Mormon cookie-cutter life, or try something new with this really cute boy next
to me. I eventually chose the boy. Although I put it to him kind of weird: “I
think I want affection from you.” He waited patiently for me to make this
decision, and gladly responded to my request.
Starting with a hand massage, this boy eventually admitted his hope that
we could kiss. This was my first
experience doing anything with another boy—at least since puberty. There were a couple things I did with a
couple other kids when I was really young, but I know they didn’t affect my
feelings. They were pretty innocent
anyway. But this was for real. We were both adults and both liked each
other. I had never kissed anyone before.
Not even girls. He came in to
kiss me and I hesitated. Not because I
didn’t want to—I did. I just didn’t have
a clue what to do. He came in again and
was successful this time. It was
fantastic. At this very moment, I knew I
was gay, and I knew that this was the direction I wanted to go. This felt right. I was goo-goo gah-gah the rest of my
trip. Although I didn’t see him again
after that late night, we talked and texted constantly.
The next
morning I drove with my brother to General Conference. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I turned down the radio and told my brother I
had my first kiss the night before. He
lit up. He had been seeing a girl for a while and had kissed girls long
ago. It was a big deal that his big
brother had finally kissed someone. “Really? How did you meet her? What’s her
name?” I told him we had met online, and his name was Jared. He giggled and shrugged it off as a
joke. “Ha ha, no, really, tell me!” I
told him I was dead serious and that I had liked boys from the beginning. It took my brother about 10 minutes before he
would believe me. Even then he still had
to process it all. He was absolutely
shocked. The big brother he had looked
up to for so many years was gay. He had
no idea. He was cute about it initially—trying
to think of solutions to fix me—but I guaranteed him that there was nothing
that could be done. Although he would
prefer I wasn’t gay, he never gave me any grief or treated me differently. Our relationship actually improved from this
point.
My mother on
the other hand, was not so easy to work with.
I told my brother not to tell my parents, but he must have, since my mom
called me a couple weeks later to ask me if I had a boyfriend. When I said I did, she started crying on the
phone. These weren’t tears of joy, but
of despair. It was pretty sad that the
first time I felt real happiness in my life my parents were disappointed and
upset. Although their reactions to my
decision to date guys were not positive, it could have been much worse.
After I
returned home from Utah, Jared and I kept talking. I was falling hard for this boy. I felt this thing called ‘love’ that everyone
was talking about. Life finally made
sense. Everything finally made sense. I knew what I wanted and I was determined
that someday I would get it. Just like
everyone else around me. A week or two
after we met, Jared and I decided to be official boyfriends. He was hesitant—breaking all his rules:
dating a guy long distance, a dating guy just coming out, and being a guy’s
first relationship. But he still did
it. That whole month we were together
was bliss. I had a boy I could call my
own. Life was good.
A month
later, Jared convinced me to visit him in SLC.
When I told my mom, she asked where I would be staying. I told her I would be staying with him. She was very upset and said in sarcasm, “Well
happy Mother’s Day to me!” It was Mother’s Day weekend that I would be flying
up to see him. Going up to see him was a
poor move of mine, but I learned from it.
He was gone working most of the time I stayed with him. It was really awkward for some reason
too. Come to find out later, he was
breaking up with me. It was a bad
situation for both of us. He broke up
with me the day before I flew home, and I had nowhere to go. So I had to process it all with him around me
for a whole day. It was the hardest I
had ever cried that night in his bathroom while he slept.
It was a
hard month getting over my relationship with Jared, but I did. This was when I started meeting gay guys at
my school in CA. That summer, I was
determined to get up to Utah to meet and date more gay Mormons. I was with my parents for a little while in
San Diego, and it was awful. I couldn’t
live under their roof anymore. I needed
to get out. I spent most of my time with
my two best gal friends. I came out to
both of them while I was there. They were
both so happy and supportive. They were
ecstatic to have a gay best friend. It
surprised me since they were both stalwart Mormon girls. I think that society has definitely helped in
opening the minds of the younger generations, even Mormons. I ended up moving to Utah in July. I did it all of a sudden, with no work or
place to live. My parents were not
pleased, but I’d rather be out of the house than to try to appease them. I ended up finding a place to live with other
gay guys. I didn’t find work on
purpose. I had enough money to support
me for the summer. So I played. And met
a lot of guys. I was introduced to a
whole new world.
This was a
summer of change. I stopped wearing
garments. I only rarely went to
church. I went on dates with dozens of
guys. I made a ton of new friends and
had a blast. Quite a few times I would
be interested in a couple people at the same time, both would progress, and
then both would fall through. The last
time I was interested in someone in the summer was only with one person. And we hit it off. After meeting him, we took about a week to
become official. He was recently coming
out and a BYU student, almost graduated.
I was with him in Provo for about a month. We were really good together. This time I had a boyfriend around me a
lot. I did have to return to school,
though, so I did the long distance again.
Ultimately, that’s what ended our relationship 4 months later. Long distance just doesn’t work. It was hard, but I got over this relationship
too. After him was when I started going out with a couple of guys in CA.
7 From
Saint to ‘Sinner’
I graduated
from my school in Computer Engineering in June 2011. A few months before, I decided to apply to
graduate school in Utah. I wanted to go
back. The summer I had there was
amazing. I was accepted to the
University of Utah. I knew it was
approval from God that Utah and meeting guys there was what he wanted for me at
that time. Everything fell into
place. I got into school, found places
to live and roommates. I had another
blast of a summer in Utah. I didn’t
work. I scraped by again. I met and dated more guys. It was very different in Salt Lake. The guys there were gayer and less
Mormon. It seemed like the Provo gays
were still closeted and trying to be Mormon, and when they finally couldn’t
take it anymore, they moved to Salt Lake to really come out and give up all the
Mormon stuff.
My
perspective on the church changed a lot since moving to Salt Lake. Once I graduated, I never went back to
church, except with my parents at home or for special events. I became more agitated with the church’s
anti-gay policies. I became more
critical of the doctrines and history of the church. Although I wasn’t combative or hateful
towards the church, I was upset with leaders and members. I still consider myself Mormon, since I love
the irony of being a gay Mormon. But
realistically, I’m a reformed Mormon. I
support a few of the conservative values from my Mormon history, but I have
become more open minded towards a lot of things. I still want a family, but with a husband and
kids. I still want to be healthy in
mind, spirit, and body, but I do it without prayer, scriptures, and orthodox
chastity.
I’m saving
some of the most intimate things for a husband, but I’m not guilty when I am
intimate at other levels with guys.
After a long time, I decided to try drinking alcohol. It took me a while to appreciate it, but
trying it has also completely changed my perspective. I used to look down on those that drank. I used to be really judgmental. It was causing a lot of personal grief to
have such negative feelings about so many people, so I gave it a shot. Once I did, I could no longer judge someone
else for doing it. It even helped me be
less judgmental about other things in life.
I could look past things to really know someone’s heart and soul,
instead of passing them off as a ‘bad person’ for doing things I didn’t
do.
Since moving
to Utah, I have dated a lot. I had one other boyfriend for a very short period
of time. I learned a lot from it. I get closer to what it is I’m looking for in
a husband every boyfriend I have.
Although I would really like to have a strong, long term boyfriend right
now, I have come to appreciate being who I am by myself. It took a long time to come to that, and I
doubted it could happen. But it
has. I know I can’t live alone forever,
but right now, I’m content with it.
School has been great—compared to undergrad stress. I have good work. I have great friends. I love where I live and I’m happy with
myself. These are feelings I never had
before. I was constantly put under grief
in the church for not being perfect.
My family
has improved, as far as their understanding and acceptance of the
situation. My parents were initially
very upset with my actions. They would
make me feel terrible. I drove home for
my birthday one time and they started telling me their disappointment and
brought me to tears the evening of my birthday.
They apologized for that. My dad
accepted that it wasn’t my choice to be gay and struggled with God wondering
why his son had to have these feelings.
I think he still struggles, but he has found a level of peace. He still will not accept my lifestyle as good
as long as the prophet of God says so, but he hasn’t treated me any differently
that I can tell over the last couple years.
My mom has had a harder time because she was depending on me for
grandchildren. My brother is adopted due
to fertility complications after I was born. The two of us were told constantly that we
needed to have lots of kids for them.
Once I chose to come out, she was devastated that her chances for
grandkids were cut in half and delayed at least 5 years. She knows I can still adopt, but she would
prefer I have kids the normal way from a temple marriage. She has, however, improved quite a bit since
then. We can talk about some things
without it being awkward. She even
listened to my relationship struggles and gave me un-biased advice. Still, both my parents have a long time to go
before I would consider things to be normal.
My brother
is currently on his mission, so I haven’t had much chance to interact with him
since coming out. Most all of my
extended family knows that I am gay. My
parents told most of them. The reactions
are surprisingly mild. I had a few aunts
and uncles that called me personally to tell me that me being gay doesn’t
change a thing. Some haven’t really
talked to me since they found out. But
since being in Utah, I’ve interacted with most of them more than I ever had before,
having been so far from them growing up in CA.
Although I’m not best friends with any cousins, or even really talk to
them much, I feel like things are in a good place for now.
In the last
two and a half years, a lot has changed.
I’m no longer the pious Mormon I once was. I’m no longer brainwashed, closed-minded, or
blinded—not to say that all Mormons are. A number of Mormons I know
are very open-minded and progressive. I’m open to change and trying new
things. I’m more relaxed and
positive. I won’t be marrying in a
temple, but I know that God has a plan for me to be happy with my husband and
kids forever. I don’t know how, but I
know it’s true. You could call it my
testimony. No one can say I’m
wrong. How is a pious Mormon’s testimony
any more valid than mine?
Coming out
was a long process for me. It wasn’t an
overnight thing where I made a decision and told the world. The world doesn’t react well to things like
that. It’s progressive, but only
slowly. I tell people when they need to
know. Or they can just find out on their
own. Being gay is not what I’m all
about, but being gay is an important part of who I am. It wasn’t an easy thing to come out, and I don’t
expect being gay will ever be easy. But
it’s worth it, and it will get better, however cliché that sounds. I’m happy.
I have purpose in life. Being
Mormon in the past gave me one perspective. Being who I really am has opened my
eyes to so many other perspectives.
Most Mormons
would look at me and call me a sinner.
Homosexuality is, as a matter of fact, on the list of sins next to
murder, rape, and incest in some LDS church leadership and membership
handbooks. But I don’t care. I know that what I am doing is part of
me. It’s the fear of the unknown and
tradition that keeps so many Mormons in the dark and prevents them
from progressing.
8 Mormons
and Gays
My story,
although very eventful, is not the most common story among Mormon gays. Most of the guys I meet that come from Mormon
roots have a much heavier and more serious experience. My second boyfriend almost committed
suicide. The story of Stewart Matis is
the story of far too many others. Gays
have always been a taboo in the church.
Boyd Packer, a Mormon apostle, even said that the biggest enemies of the
church are the “feminists, homosexuals, and so-called intellectuals.” This
particular apostle has never failed to emphasize his distaste for homosexuality
in almost every address he has made for the church. Leaders like Packer instill fear,
misunderstanding, and hate among church members.
Because of
leaders like this, young men and women are experiencing depression and suicidal
thoughts trying to make sense of the feelings they have that they are told are
so monstrous. Kids, especially at BYU,
are forced to live double lives, hooking up secretly and having secret
relationships behind closed doors since it isn’t allowed to act on gay feelings
there. It’s terrible how the church
forces good kids to lie—for their schooling and to their leaders and
parents. They wouldn’t do it if they
didn’t have to. They want to meet the
expectations of everyone else, but have to lie to do it. Some are compelled to marry, and often have
unstable marriages that often lead to divorce, tearing their family apart. Some are successful at suicide. Some become homeless, having been kicked out
by their ‘righteous’ parents. Surveys
revealed that over 40% of the homeless teens in Salt Lake are gay. Mormon parents and Mormon culture is forcing
some kids to go out and prostitute themselves to survive.
My best
friend was just recently married to his husband in New York. I was absolutely ecstatic to hear about it,
and love everything about him and his husband.
I was around when they got back together and got engaged to each
other. My friend told me the
difficulties within his family with the situation. Although his fiancée’s family loved my friend
and had no problems with him, my friend’s family wanted nothing to do with his
boyfriend. His dad is a Mormon bishop,
and very closed minded. He even went out
of his way to tell him not to bring his boyfriend to any family functions
because he didn’t want his grandchildren to see my friend and his boyfriend and
think that that was ok. My friend’s mom
was very cool with it, but because her husband was so against it, she was
afraid to be happy for her son in fear of damaging her marriage. In fact, she decided not to go to her own
son’s wedding because her husband would have been too upset. My friend didn’t even invite his father to
his wedding.
I have
countless other friends that have had similar rejections and absolutely
terrible things said to them when they came out to their friends or
families. Most of my friends went through
serious and even chronic depression trying to reconcile their feelings with
their religion. These are the reasons I
have separated myself from Mormonism the way I have. The church should not be separating children
from their parents. Families and lives
are being ruined by the policies the church claims to be God-inspired. Because leaders of the church encourage
parents to reject children for homosexual ‘misbehavior’, I reject their cause. I believe that eventually social pressure
will change policies in the church. But
it is unlikely that I will ‘return to the fold’ if they do.
