Sick of Being Sad: No Longer a Prisoner of the Past

 

That's it. I need to lighten up. I need to take a different approach. I need to smile a lot more.

Here's the thing:

Anyone close to me knows me to be funny, upbeat, outgoing and inclusive (at least I hope they do). But those who know me best have seen a continual grey cloud hanging over my head throughout the years. As much as I strive to be a supportive friend and family member who delights in lifting other people up, it's begun to feel like I project an undertone of melancholic sadness. I get to work on that.

To be fair, being a gay Mormon sucks in a lot of ways, especially when you are gay and you still want to be a Mormon. Sometimes, I manage it really well. Sometimes, I don't. Since starting this blog over a year ago, I've shared some heartbreaks and disappointments that include the following:

• Growing up in the LDS church, knowing I was gay and constantly feeling like I was an evil person because of what I was taught.
• Trying to compensate by being an overachiever who put intense pressure on myself as a teenager in an effort to hide who I really was.
• Securing a four-year full ride scholarship and walking away from it halfway through because I couldn't cope with life.
• Going on my mission late because I did mild stuff with another guy. Having to say goodbye to this friend was hard enough, but what followed was much worse.
• This delay resulted in a dark period of depression that was mostly brought on my rumors and speculation about my worthiness to serve.
• Trying to date girls and be open to marrying a woman someday, feeling like I was faking it the whole time.
• Expressing how it feels to be a spectator instead of a participant in the church because of my sexual orientation.
• My continual struggle with weight gain and weight loss, turning to and abusing food to cope, and the ongoing process of self-acceptance despite my weight.
• Deciding not to date guys until I was 36 years old, and even then, being hung up on a guy I couldn't have for nearly two years of that time. I feel like a 16 year old who is just getting started.
• Rejection in dating that comes from not being good enough, thin enough, Mormon enough, gay enough, etc.
• Turning down more than one job offer that would've paid me six figures, all because I didn't believe at the time that I could effectively balance that and the gay Mormon thing.
• Being absolutely devastated by the policy changes in the LDS church that came to light almost a year ago.

As I look through this list, I have no regrets by sharing what I've shared. I don't think that reviewing these items is me being negative, but this list is heartbreaking and overwhelming. As I consider what has taken place over the last twenty years, there is much to smile about, but I'm more aware of the darker stuff. Going forward, I want this list to turn into a list of accomplishing, accepting, overcoming, conquering, etc.

Anyone reading this has their own list. I'm not here to say that my list is more difficult. I'm aware of loved ones going through the loss of a spouse, a child, a job, a house or other devastating losses. Some are dealing with addictions or medical issues that I've been spared from. Others are in financial ruin or struggle to move on after the end of a relationship. The list goes on.

As I've shared my experiences that express how lonely my personal journey has been, I'm mindful of many of my friends who deal with their own debilitating loneliness, sometimes even within a marriage. It's not just the gay Mormons who feel sadness and loneliness. I totally get that.

I feel a sense of pride (the good kind) as I consider my willingness to speak up and speak out about the experiences I've had. From the beginning, my intention has been to let others in my boat know that they can be gay and still love God and have His love in return. The response I've received has mostly been positive and supportive. I think that sharing each entry has served a purpose and my intention has been to uplift, inspire and educate. When it comes to what I've shared on this blog, I feel good.

That said, I've had three experiences lately where I've been a bit of a Debbie Downer. Sometimes, I play that “gay Mormon card” in an attempt to get sympathy or even make excuses. I'll explain what I mean by sharing these three recent experiences. Each one will be followed with two things:

1. How I chose to respond in an ineffective way.
2. How I will choose to respond more effectively in the future if presented with a similar experience.

Experience 1: Musical number in my mom's ward

My mom recently moved from Utah to Arizona. In an attempt to be proactive and to serve, I scheduled a musical number in her Utah ward for the last Sunday she was in town. Playing piano in church is one of the things I miss the most. I thought my mom would enjoy it and feel comforted, I'd ensure that she had a family member sitting next to her on a Sunday where she was saying goodbye to dear friends, and I felt good about contributing to the meeting through music.

Just before my piano solo of “Our Savior's Love”, a woman spoke passionately about the Family Proclamation and how we must do everything possible to protect the family. She went on to say that marriage is between a man and a woman. Ok, nothing new there. But then this: “We must fight with all of our might against anything or anyone who seeks to destroy the family as outlined in this sacred document.”

I was rattled as I sat there and listened. So, am I part of that “anything or anyone” who seeks to destroy traditional families just because I'd like to get married one day and have kids? And what exactly does “fight with all of our might” consist of? Is she prepared to take up weapons against me and people like me? Am I really sitting here, ready to offer a worshipful piano solo and then made to feel like the enemy moments before I play?

I held it together and followed her talk with my piano solo. I gave it every ounce of feeling I had. I heard the words in my mind as I played each verse with varying dynamics. I felt great about how my song went and was flooded with kind messages afterward from members of my mom's ward. They specifically talked about the way I played with feeling and sensitivity. My ego loved the response, but honestly, I was just glad to have contributed to the meeting in a way where people were touched. Whether it was by the Spirit or just the beauty of the music, I felt useful. I haven't felt that way in some time.

What I did in response:

My mom was as gracious and appreciative as ever. We shared a hug and a chat in the parking lot afterward. I felt the need to bring up what the lady had said in her talk. Then, I added something like, “You know, it sure was nice for all of those people to approach me afterward and say nice things, but would they feel the same if they knew I was gay? Would they have been so kind and welcoming and appreciative if they knew I didn't attend church a lot and that I was attracted to men?”

My mom sympathized with me and I felt supported. She's an incredible listener. On my drive home, I began to think that I'd possibly ruined an otherwise lovely afternoon. That day was about my mom and how she was feeling on her last day in a ward she'd come to love. Instead, what I was feeling at the moment seemed more important.

What I will do differently in the future:

I'll try to consider the needs of others above my own. Sure, there will be times where I feel offense and might feel the need to speak up or express it. But I'd like to think that this experience taught me to consider what everyone is in need of with any given experience.

The better thing to do would've been to focus on my mom and what she was feeling that day as she was preparing to make a big life change. I know we are all capable of “making it about us” at times. But this was bad timing. The whole point of me going to my mom's ward was to comfort her on an emotional day. I might have come through in some ways, but I failed in my mission when I felt the need to get immediate justice in response to what that lady said in her talk. Next time, I'm prepared to put my needs and feelings aside and use better timing.

Experience 2: A follow-up conversation to being called to repentance

Several months ago, someone I love and look up to very much (let's refer to him as Gary) sent me an email that called me to repentance. I won't go into what the email said as I've previously written about it. But Gary's email devastated me.

What I did right early on was suggesting to Gary that we park the conversation until it could continue in person. That way, we could communicate openly, face to face and make sure that the conversation was free of any misunderstanding. I went months with a heavy heart, but I took comfort in knowing that we'd eventually get to work things out and come to a better understanding of where each of us stood.

I recently had that face to face conversation with Gary and it just added to my heartbreak. At the beginning of the conversation, I pleaded with him, “Gary, I've waited to have this conversation and I need to walk away feeling better about things.” He would probably tell you that it went great. That we met in the middle, hugged it out and came to a mutual understanding. He would admit that on some things, we just have to agree to disagree. Meanwhile, here I am, a month later, and I'm still processing some of the comments Gary made.

To paraphrase a few:

“Gay Mormon? I just don't get that term at all. It's such an oxymoron.”

“If you marry a man, you will be excommunicated and you are not going to the Celestial Kingdom. We already know that. The Brethren have already spoken on that.”

“Gay pride parades? I don't need that lifestyle shoved in my face. If gay people are mistreated, I'm sorry, but I get mistreated too.”

I tried to respond to each comment with thoughtful reasoning and scenarios just so that Gary could better understand why I'm where I'm at with the church. Ultimately, I just felt that Gary was very uninterested in trying to consider things from my perspective. Perhaps he feels the same thing about some of my responses to his comments, but I was the defendant here, after all. I'm not the one who called him to repentance or told him that he was leading many people astray.

There were several things that were said out of love and support as well. At times, we cried, and at the end of it, we hugged it out. But I honestly sat there in disbelief and awe. Gary was not going to budge in his stance. That's fine, I didn't expect him to change his stance. But the tone that was used, the raised voice, the unwillingness to question or consider that we don't know everything. It was exhausting, for both of us. The conversation lasted at least three hours.

What I did in response:

I talked to five different friends or family members about how deeply hurt I was by my conversation with Gary. Five people, folks. Not because I'm petty, but because I was really bruised by the conversation. I chose people who I knew would side with me to some degree. That said, I don't surround myself with people who always tell me what I want to hear. They'll sock it to me if they think I'm being stupid or too sensitive.

I allowed myself to be distraught about this conversation for weeks. I let some of the past negative thoughts I've had about myself creep back into my psyche. I let what Gary thought of me and my life and my decisions matter more to me than what I feel. His opinion of me mattered more than my own opinion. I even let Gary's beliefs and opinions hold more weight than what I believe God thinks of me.

What I will do differently in the future:

As good as I feel about parking the conversation with Gary until we could have it in person, the more effective thing to do would have been to offer a polite thank you for his concern in response to his email and leave it at that. Instead, I opened myself up to get hurt even more than I initially was.

Gary's intentions were good and I recognize that he has nothing but love and concern for me and my well-being (read: eternal well-being), so I can't fault him for that. I will continue to love him and look up to him. But I will no longer place myself in situations or conversations where I get beat up or judged or condemned. I will never let someone tell me to my face that I'm not going to the Celestial Kingdom again. Ever.

As soon as I sensed that this conversation wasn't going anywhere, I should have ended it, put a smile on my face and moved on. Instead, I sat through a lengthy chat that was filled with hurtful take-aways that I can't shake off. I've cried about that conversation many times since and I regret opening myself up in that way. I honestly thought it would be a healing conversation, but it just made the wound deeper. Lesson learned.

Experience 3: General Conference blues

It happens every 6 months. As GC approaches, I have many lovely Facebook friends who express their excitement. Consider what this awesome lady wrote the day before:

“I'm so excited for General Conference this weekend! It's always uplifting and gives me so much peace, hope and spiritual guidance. I'm so thankful for the guidance and direction of church leaders, most importantly a living Prophet and those called as Special Witnesses of Jesus Christ. I invite you to listen, even if you're not a member of the LDS faith. You will find personal inspiration, hope and peace within the talks that are given. Love, love, LOVE General Conference weekend!!!”

I feel joy for these friends who don't face the same kinds of conflicts I feel before and after GC. I'm glad that they feel peace and comfort. I see a number of these kinds of posts. Not only that, I see a ton of post GC messages like this one:

“I loved every minute of General Conference! So many insights and personal witnesses obtained through truths spoken and examples given. I'm really looking forward to reading and reviewing some of these talks again!”

If I were a straight member of the church who dated whomever I wanted without condemnation, got married to this person and had a family with this person, and on top of that, I had a promise that I'd be with them in the hereafter, I would be just as vocal and passionate and excited about GC every single time. After all, everything that is said across the GC pulpit is in support of what I would want out of life.

But guess what? I want the exact same things this enthusiastic lady wants in life, with one detail that's different. That one detail makes her a saint and me a sinner. It makes her a disciple with righteous desires and me an apostate (according to the church handbook) with sinful tendencies that need to be overcome.

I won't take time to go over specific things that were said over the last two conferences or in the women's session last week. I'll simply say this: If you are a gay member of the LDS church who truly strives to still make the church a part of his life, GC can be an incredibly painful experience. How can one member of the church feel such a strong personal witness through the Spirit that everything that is shared is true while I feel an overwhelming amount of conflict and sorrow about the very same things?

Well, that's easy, right? I'm just less valiant, less worthy, more sinful and more susceptible to the devil. Honestly, that's what a lot of people believe. And, just like that, I'm taken back to my childhood and teenage years where I constantly felt like shit.

What I did in response:

I watched GC and I sulked. Some of it was lovely and uplifting. But, as usual, there were messages that caused my soul significant torment. Then, I went to Facebook to share the following thought: “Time to shut the world out and collect my thoughts, check my bearings and make some tough decisions. How I long for a time when conference weekend isn't so painful.”

A flood of messages from friends and family followed. Some of them were public and others were private. To be honest, it felt really good to feel of the support and love. How easy! You just express that you're sad about something by typing out your feelings and then, voila!, a flurry of comments magically appear.

The problem is that reading through many of them just made me feel even more conflicted. While some people gave me the simple solution of just not watching anymore and running away from the church as fast as I could, other people gave me the simple solution of going to church, reading my scriptures, saying my prayers and returning to the temple. Most of the comments didn't give any direction, they just expressed love.

I'm pretty good about taking it all in, keeping what's useful and then disregarding the rest. But where I failed here is that I turned to social media at a time when I was feeling incredibly low and vulnerable. I opened myself up to what everyone else thought I should do.

Don't get me wrong. If we are down about something, we can Facebook about it. In addition, I was grateful for each and every comment. Some of these comments came from men who had walked my path. I tend to appreciate those comments a little more even while others in the chain quickly dismiss their input. The fact that anyone took a second to express support of any kind was very much appreciated. I'm just suggesting that for ME, I don't need to be so public and vulnerable in a way that opens me up to everyone's opinion on what I should do.

What I will do differently in the future:

I've made a decision that I can't let GC weekend kick my butt anymore. It's just too much of a roller coaster for me. I will have trusted friends and family members watch it before I watch and I'll have them suggest specific talks. That way, I can still consume something that means a lot to me, but I can avoid the hurtful stuff.

Someday, I might come back fully to the church, or I might leave it behind completely. But it will be a decision that is made by me, with my experiences, thoughts and beliefs serving as my guide. It's gotten me this far. I'm open to what other people have to say, but I don't respond to simplistic messages. If you're telling me to read, pray, and go to church, you don't get it. I did exactly that for 36 years. If you're telling me that the leaders of the church are evil and to ignore them, I can't readily agree to that even though you've been able to move on.

Instead of going to social media, I'll just express my sorrow to a few trusted friends or family members. I will continue to post thoughtful blog posts about what it is to be gay and Mormon and I will do so in an effort to uplift and inform. But I won't express my sorrow through social media if it invites divisive comments that just end up making me feel more conflicted than I already was.

Summary:

• I have recognized in recent years that I'm not as happy as I could be and I feel like I've taken active steps to see to my happiness, independent of what other people need or expect from me.
• A significant part of that journey was the decision to date men when I was 36. I am now 39 and it really only feels like I've been dating for a little over a year (being hung up on that guy and all).
• I get that I'm not the only one with sadness and trials. I consider what other people go through all of the time. But the purpose of this blog is to share my story (triumphs and failures) in a way that brings hope, light, and love to others. While my main audience is other LGBT members of the church, particularly the youth, I love the idea that what I have to share is getting through to friends and family as well.
• I've recognized that I have said “no” to many things in life as a result of being a “sad, gay Mormon”. I've lost scholarships, job opportunities, friends and chances of finding love because I have given in far too often to this dark cloud I allow to hang over my head.
• I don't want to be seen as a “sad, gay Mormon” anymore. By myself or by others. I frequently lead with this narrative when there are far more interesting things about me.
• I will continue to talk about the gay Mormon experience. I will not ask for permission to be gay and be Mormon. I will not be dismissed as an oxymoron, feeling like I have to choose one or the other. You CAN be both.
• I think I'm doing a pretty good job at navigating this tricky balance. It may not please my Mormon friends or my gay friends. Just try to accept that what worked for you may not work for me. Or, maybe it will work for me, I just need more time than you needed.
• I will strive to be a source of unity, light, compassion, open dialogue, and most importantly, love.

If, like me, you are feeling that you tend to focus on the negative, or you have a way of making your trials the center point of your lives, accept my challenge to take control and change course as needed. You are so much more than your trials, labels, roles, successes, and failures.

You don't like the way the story of your life is being told? You don't feel like the lead character is being portrayed fairly or completely? Decide now to switch up the plot and examine new sides of your protagonist (you) in future chapters. My story had a pretty dark beginning, but man, it's starting to be a real page-turner.

I'm Nate Benincosa. I'm gay. I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Sometimes, that is tricky to manage. Sometimes, I like to share those experiences in an effort to help other people. But there is so much more to me than that. I'm excited to share that going forward.

My Suicide Note: How I Almost Became a Statistic

This is NOT a “poor me” post. I'm not looking for sympathy and I don't want my friends and family to think I'm ending my life. I am not here to point fingers or to place blame. I do, however, want to be a little more open than usual about a topic that I have never discussed with anyone:

I have contemplated ending my life a number of times throughout the last 25 years.

News of a few suicides last week among our gay LDS youth racked my soul with grief. I continue to be disturbed, enraged, and compelled to take action as I see this number increase ever since the November 5^th policy changes in the LDS church came to light. I have been hesitant to open up to anyone about my suicidal thoughts. Once people know that about you, there's a stigma attached that can be tricky to shake off. There's so much more to me than my sexuality and there's so much more to me than what I'm sharing today.

I am sharing my journey openly with the hope that others can draw strength from it. I dedicate this post to Stockton Powers and Wyatt Bateman and the others who saw no other option last week than to take their own lives. One only needs to read through their obituaries (hyper-linked here, just click on their names) to see how much they had to live for and what a gift they both were to the world.

Because this is a very long post, I split it up into three areas (color-coded for easy reference):

1. For the LGBT teenagers out there, I'll begin by sharing my struggle to overcome suicidal thoughts and feelings of hopelessness and self-hatred.
2. For my LDS friends and family, I will provide a few thoughts and insights on how we can do away with fear and ignorance while improving attitudes and judgments towards the LGBT community.
3. For my LGBT friends and family, I will provide some ideas on how we can “meet in the middle” a little more effectively with our Mormon friends and acquaintances who hold so valiantly to what they believe, even when it causes us extreme pain.

As usual, I will try to use an accessible, palatable approach. I will share thoughts that won't be accepted by everyone, but my intention is ALWAYS to bring people together and challenge others to look at things from another perspective.

Let's go back to high school.

This section will sound like I'm bragging, but I'm not. I just need to illustrate an important point by setting things up:

The picture above was taken when I was attending Roy High School as a 16 year old. I was elected as Sophomore Class President, won the title of Mr. Royal, earned straight A's, had the lead in the school play, and felt I could accomplish just about anything I set my mind to. But guess what? I hated myself. I'll talk about why in a second.

I would go on to become elected as a Junior Class Senator and Prom Royalty the following year, and as Royal Choir President and a Student Body Officer my senior year. I graduated in the top 5% of my class and secured full-ride scholarships to three different universities. I applied for the President's Leadership Council scholarship at USU. Out of 300+ applicants, I locked one of the prestigious 20 spots.

I tackled difficult piano accompaniments for the Royal Choir, sang and choreographed for the Chamber Choir and won Superior ratings at Vocal & Ensemble, Debate and Drama competitions. I belonged to at least 10 different clubs, planned and hosted school-wide assemblies, and won an all-expense paid trip across the United States for an essay and speech I prepared.

Here's the point: I didn't appear to be isolated, withdrawn and “at risk” to other classmates and teachers. I had every reason to be confident, self-assured, and love myself. Outwardly, I presented an image that could be admired and even envied. But I was just trying to cover up. To fake it. To trick people. Years before I ever stepped foot through the doors of Roy High, I knew I was gay. I knew I was evil. I knew I wasn't worthy. I knew that I deserved to die.

Why did I feel this way? The biggest factor, quite simply, was because of what I was taught as a child and as a teenager in the LDS church. This statement may be difficult for some to read. But it's my truth. While there was much I loved about growing up as a Mormon (and still love), the reality is that my experience looked a lot different than your experience.

From an early age, I was made to feel gross, unnatural, broken, an enemy to God, and a sinner who stood next to killers and murderers in the chain of command. I constantly had these thoughts on my mind in church, in school, and at family gatherings. It was all I could do to act the part, to never give anyone a reason to suspect what I was. I played the part so well for so long, but it took an incredible amount of effort. Anxiety, fear, depression, and self-loathing were emotions I felt every single day.

Sure, all of the accomplishments felt great. I delighted in pleasing my parents and I truly wanted to make them proud. But in all honestly, most of my achievements were just a desperate attempt to overcompensate for the badness and the evil within. Maybe Heavenly Father wouldn't hate me so much if I just did good things to make up for the secret, sinful tendencies I was cursed with.

Near the end of my senior year, I was extremely worn out from all the work of doing, accomplishing, faking, covering up. Our family went through a pretty significant challenge around this time and I let down my guard and turned to a dear friend for comfort during the summer before my freshman year at Utah State. I've written about that in past entries, so I won't share much here except to say that he and I did things that were seen as extremely grievous and sinful. It resulted in me not being able to serve a mission until I was 22. Had I done the same things with a girl, I would've received a slap on the wrist and there would not have been any kind of delay with my mission.

Those four years, from 18-22, were among the darkest of my life. I had to end things with my friend even though he was the biggest source of joy in my life at that time. In addition, I had never faced such extreme judgment and speculation from my LDS peers. I made up stories and excuses as to why I was not yet on a mission because even though I was willing to tell my priesthood leaders the truth behind closed doors, I couldn't be as transparent to friends and family.

Before I turned 18, I had fantasized about how nice it would be to not have to live anymore, to not have to keep up the production. But during this four-year period, these feelings progressed to something much darker. I began to think about how I would end it. Could I find a gun? Did I dare to hang myself? Would I just sit in an idle car running in the garage? If I drowned myself, could I make it look like an accident? Would I get someone to help me? To keep it a secret? No, I had to do it alone or else they'd try to stop me.

I wrote a suicide note that I intended to leave to my brother Neil. I don't have a copy of it anymore, but the main message was that I couldn't feel joy or peace about either decision. The decision to be lonely, celibate and faithful for the rest of my entire life seemed too overwhelming. I made it to age 36 before I waved my white flag, by the way. The other alternative was to be authentic to myself, to come out, to just be gay and embrace that part of myself. Even though I have arrived at that place now, there was simply no way I could have felt peace with that decision all those years ago.

Neither option sounded worthwhile. Both decisions would cause people that I loved a great deal of pain. As I've discussed in past entries, my whole purpose was to please others and to come through for them. Forget what I needed or wanted, I was motivated to meet the expectations many others had of me.

Clearly, I never went through with it, and I never presented that suicide note to my brother, but I thought about killing myself all the time. I remember when Brother Kendrick, the principal of the seminary program, asked me to come up and bear my testimony at my high school seminary graduation. There I was, in front of most of my graduating class at the old Ogden tabernacle, sharing what I “knew” to be true. I did what I had to do, I said what I had to say. It was all about survival mode. In contrast, I remember the relief I felt when I played a song I wrote at my main high school graduation later that week. I sat at the piano and sang an ode I wrote to my graduating class, backed by the Royal Choir. My entire class gave my song a standing ovation and I remember thinking, “Whew, I've got 'em fooled.” I just ended my high school career on a good note. What a relief. That struggle, that production, that exhaustion was coming to an end.

I went to USU a few months later and as I met the other members of the President's Leadership Council, I realized that I was surrounded by other over-achievers. They were such amazing people who could match me and even top my list of accomplishments. They just weren't carrying around a secret like I was. I had just ended things with my summer boyfriend and felt a tremendous sense of guilt over that. What should have been beautiful and regarded as my first shot at love became tainted and something I was taught to feel shame for. I would later pledge to FIVE different priesthood leaders about how sorry I was that I had made such grievous mistakes with that boy.

None of the other members of the Council knew what had just happened over that summer, they just assumed I was a good Mormon boy. For the most part, I was. I just felt a scarlet “G” on my chest all the time. Of course, the other members of this Council weren't perfect. I'm still lucky enough to be in touch with a few of them and it's been eye-opening to see that each of them has had their own struggles. But as a freshman at USU, I felt so lost and hopeless. I'd wander around campus not wanting to be there. All of the other guys on the Council put in their mission papers and got their calls and everyone was just kind of wondering about my mission call. I got so worked up about it that I left USU earlier than everyone else that year.

We had a Council meeting halfway through the school year where our director did a workshop on tolerance. He started the meeting with an experiment by saying, “Someone in this room is gay.” I remember how everyone looked around with wide eyes and how quiet and tense it felt in that room. I felt that my facial expression and physical reaction would give me away. So what did I do? Covered my ass with some comedy. My roommate also happened to be a member of this council and I shouted across the room in a playful singing tone, “Roomie!” Everyone laughed and it became a running joke. Even now, this roommate and I greet each other that way. Our director didn't really know anyone was gay, he just wanted to see how we'd all react. I remember how ashamed I felt that I was the gay one in the room and that I felt I needed to put out that fire stat. To everyone else on the Council, it's a funny memory. To me, it was a painful moment because it reminds me how scared I was and how I wasn't allowed to even consider being gay at that time. I was 19 and could not live my life in a way that would make me or anyone else happy.

I finally got to put in my mission papers at the age of 21 after getting approval from the First Presidency and then I flew to the UK when I was 22. I'd always had a desire to serve a mission, but I'll admit, having to get authorization from that level of leadership in the church just made me feel awful. I had to endure several counseling sessions with LDS Family Services and countless evaluations and meetings with bishops and stake presidents. Meanwhile, all of my friends had served their missions and returned home to move on with their lives. I could not have felt more alone and wounded by those years of preparing to be “good enough” to serve a mission.

The over-achiever complex continued during my LDS mission to England and Wales. To this day, I loved the experience and I am still in touch with several people who have become lifelong friends. But I conducted myself in such a way that would not allow any of my peers to suspect that I was gay. I served as a Zone Leader for 6 months, the Financial Secretary of the mission for 6 months, three times as a District Leader and three times as a Trainer. I can't say that I aspired to these positions, but I was definitely relieved when they came because it added to my “narrative”. In addition, I believed that my willingness to work hard in these capacities would cure me of my base, evil tendencies after my mission was completed. After all, I'd had a bishop and stake president who assured me of this.

I've never shared this with either mission president I had, but one of the most heartbreaking memories I have from my mission is that during my time as an office Elder, President Taggart and his wife were on their way home and President Whitehead and his wife were on their way in. What a great opportunity to be in the mission office during this transition. Well, I knew that my missionary file had a “mark”, and I had to do something about it.

There was paperwork in my file from LDS Family Services. As I mentioned above, I had to be evaluated by trained therapists to make sure that I was fit and safe to serve a mission, despite being a homosexual. President Taggart knew about me and we actually had some wonderful conversations about it. He was loving and supportive. But I always wondered what he really thought of me. Because I know him to be a compassionate, loving person, I assumed the best. However, there was no way that I was going to let my new, incoming mission president see that paperwork. It was too damning and I didn't want that “mark” to affect how he saw me. I just wanted to be Elder Benincosa, not “the gay one that we need to keep an eye on”.

I remember how much relief I felt when I took the key to the filing cabinet from my companion's desk, accessed my missionary file, pulled the gay papers from it and shredded the damning evidence. It made me feel so free and relieved. In the years that followed my return home, I regularly took measures to try to “shred the evidence”. I was really good at it, too. Sure, there were some people who probably knew or did the math, but I spent my twenties living in fear of being found out. That the terrible person I was would be revealed and that the lynch mob would come find me with their shouts and pitchforks.

Remember that closing line from “Phantom of the Opera”? Christine runs off with Raoul and the Phantom is miserably sad. The music box starts to play and he sings the last line: “Masquerade, paper faces on parade. Hide your face so the world will never find you.” I've seen the show a few times, but that part gets me every time because of my own experiences. My secret was just as ghastly as the Phantom's hideous face. I crafted an effective mask over the years that shielded me from the disgust and disdain of others.

I hated feeling that way. What if I actually managed to enjoy the admiration I secured and inspired others to do the same? What if I had fully embraced every part of who I was and had others in my life who did the same? How differently would my adult life have played out as a result of not growing up in the LDS church? I think about it all the time. By the way, I'm about 85% sure that a “mark” continues to exist on my church membership record. This mark will prevent me from ever having a calling to serve with the youth because apparently, if you're gay, you're also a pedophile.

I don't blame anyone but me. My membership in the LDS church has not been bad news completely. I have written many times on this blog of my love of the church and how I still value my membership in it. I learned a lot, I developed a love of the Lord and even now, I have a faith in Him that is sure and constant. No one forced me to be active in the church. No one forced me to make the decision to not date guys until I was 36 years old. No one forced me to serve a mission, to earn the grades, to become obsessed with securing the most votes, to put so much pressure on myself. I did it all. My choices. But these choices were heavily influenced time and time again by what others needed or expected from me. These choices were deeply rooted by what church leaders taught me, by what society demanded of me, and by what I believed God required of me.

Suicide is similar in a way. No one but Stockton himself made the decision to take his own life and no one but Wyatt made the decision to take his own life. It's impossible to place all of the blame on another person, to place all of the blame on another group of people, or in these two cases, to place all of the blame on the LDS church. HOWEVER, we get to have conversations about what is leading our gay and lesbian youngsters in this church to take their own lives.

The blame game doesn't accomplish much. I hold the LDS church somewhat responsible in my own experience, but I don't blame the church completely. To me, there's a difference. We don't need to be defensive as a church and we don't need to pretend that there isn't a problem. It's okay to acknowledge that the church is experiencing a suicide crisis. It's not an attack, it's just a true statement backed by some pretty damning statistics. I'll get to this in the next section.

For now, to my fellow LGBT brothers and sisters in the LDS church, regardless of age: I love you. I pray for you. I understand you. I stand with you. If you are currently feeling some of the same things I experienced, please reach out and get the help you need. I am relieved that things aren't as forbidden as they were when I was a teenager. But let's not pretend that it isn't still extremely unsafe for young people to come out, let alone to come out in the LDS church. Please read some of my other entries to see how I was able to get to a better, healthier place. This entry is already long enough as it is, but I hope that some of my previous entries will bring you hope, options, understanding, reassurance, and most importantly, a reminder that you are loved.

I will end this section by saying that the struggle continues. It wasn't just during that four-year stretch that I felt suicidal. I remember feeling at risk upon my return from my mission, upon aging out of the young single adult program in the church, and upon coming to terms with how miserable I was two years ago. The past three weeks have also been especially dark for me, only to end with news of more LGBT suicides. I had a breakthrough this weekend that seems to be helping me climb back out. I suspect that the suicidal feelings I've experienced at various times will continue to resurface in the future as well.

Sure, there are things I can do. Steps that I can take. Resources that I can utilize. A support system that I can lean on when needed. But consider this: I will always be affected by the damaging messages I was bombarded with as a young, gay member of the church. I will need to monitor how I'm really doing on a consistent basis.

I'll confess that the first half of 2016 has been another especially dark season for me. But I'm not as scared as I used to be. I love myself and I finally feel worthy of love from God and from others as well. I'm no longer putting so much energy into disguising who I am. I don't view being gay as sinful or wrong. I am grateful to be gay and to serve as a shining light in a new way. I may no longer be that 18 year old go-getter-extrovert who could accomplish anything he set his mind to, but I am more loving, more accepting, and most importantly, more Christ-like than ever before (or at least trying to be).

I have expressed so many ideas to my LDS and LGBT friends and family over the past year that I will try to keep these next two sections down to a few thoughts. But if you've made it this far, may I suggest that you check out some of my past entries on this blog?

A Few Thoughts For My LDS Brothers and Sisters

• We often take this approach: The church is perfect but the people aren't. I don't agree with this statement. I believe that God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ are perfect. The church does a lot of good, but it is far from perfect. If we truly subscribe to the Gospel of Jesus Christ as taught within the LDS church, we also accept the teaching that Christ leads this church through imperfect people. The church is made up of its leadership and its members. The church IS people. Because people are imperfect, the church is imperfect. It's okay to say that. It doesn't mean anyone is trying to take anything away from you. When gay members of the church are given this adage as an explanation for some of the awful things that have been said, it is of little comfort.
• Gay people are not having the same experience that straight people are having in the church. To me, it continues to be a spectator sport for the gays while their straight counterparts are given full participation rights. “But Nate, didn't you read the message from church leadership about how they love the gays?” Yes, I have, but it's a pretty empty statement: The church has repeatedly stated that those who feel same-sex attraction and yet choose to live the commandments of God can live fulfilling lives as worthy members of the church. Well, what this really means is “If a gay man chooses to be celibate and lonely or to marry a woman even though that would bring him intense loneliness, he can be a worthy member of the church and live a fulfilling life.” Really? Those are my options? So, my straight friends get to date and marry who they want while remaining worthy, but dating who I want makes me unworthy. Put simply, I just think active LDS members of the church truly need to consider the options that are presented to LGBT members. It's pretty bleak. I made it to 36, would you have made it longer than me? If so, more power to you. Yes, there are some who are doing well in mixed-orientation marriages and I wish them nothing but happiness. But I have too many friends who tried that to the best of their abilities only to have it fall apart.
• While the church has attempted to explain the reason for the November 5^th policy changes, LGBT members of the church are still devastated, scratching their heads. The church has not done much to comfort the LGBT community about these changes. Instead, the approach seems to be unapologetic. After all, who are we to change God's laws? When an apostle states that it was direct revelation from God to refer to gays as “apostates” in the church handbook, it's just a hard pill to swallow. When another apostle states “There are no homosexual members in this church,” it just makes LGBT members feel that much more marginalized. We can sustain our leaders and heed their counsel, but if something doesn't feel right, we can ask questions. We can have conversations. We can speak up without attacking. We can comfort our LGBT members without making them feel like we are choosing the church over them. But statements like “doubt your doubts” are of little to no value to LGBT members who are on the brink of suicide.
• The church's official stance, according to mormonsandgays.org: The experience of same-sex attraction is a complex reality for many people. The attraction itself is not a sin, but acting on it is. Even though individuals do not choose to have such attractions, they do choose how to respond to them. With love and understanding, the Church reaches out to all God’s children, including our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters. If you were a gay member of the church, would this be of any comfort to you? It is rare that I personally feel love and understanding from church leadership, I have to be honest. If your research about the gay Mormon experience is limited to a review of this website, it doesn't tell the full story. The website does not seek input of gay couples who are making the church a part of their lives. It features only those who are in a mixed-orientation marriage or who have chosen to remain celibate, single, and lonely. The website is a step in the right direction, but I'm Mormon and I'm gay and I don't feel that this website represents me at all. At some point, members of the church have got to be willing to learn about the real experiences that LGBT members of the church are having. The whole notion of “It's okay that you're gay, as long as you don't act on it” is damaging and dangerous. When I started coming out to my closest friends after my mission, I reassured them that, at all costs, I would NOT act on it. Some friends and family needed this reassurance while others assured me that they'd love me no matter what path I chose.
• To the LGBT community, talk is cheap. When they see members of the church offering lip service or hollow exclamations of sadness, and then those same church members continue to perpetuate harmful messages that result in self-loathing and self-hate among our LGBT members, it's empty. Taking action does not mean that the gay community is asking you to abandon your beliefs. Sometimes, the action needed is just a willingness to sit down and have a conversation with LGBT members about what their experience is really like. Other suggestions for action: If your gospel doctrine teacher says something hateful in his lesson, speak up. If you see a gay deacon passing you the sacrament, accept it gladly without condemning him. If you want to know if your bishop or high council is doing anything to deal with the increase in LGBT suicides in your area, ask them. So many ways to get involved and take action that is not antagonistic. Contact me directly if you'd like more ideas.
• One source of anger and pain for the LGBT community is that the LDS church has attempted to tell non-members how to live their lives. If you support traditional marriage, that is your right. But when you support a religious organization of any kind that seeks to stop non-members from enjoying basic civil rights, it's at least worth a conversation. It doesn't mean you have to support gay marriage. But at least have an awareness of how your religious views can block others from pursuing a life of liberty and happiness and how many would see that as bigoted behavior. One of the most disheartening things I see is when the members of the church justify their homophobia or discrimination of others in the name of religious freedom.
• I'm very sympathetic to what African-Americans in this country go through. I have done my homework when it comes to the #BlackLivesMatter movement. I believe that things like Black History Month and the BET tv station are good things although others would respond with “Do you know how much black people would freak out if we had White History Month?!" Statements like that disgust me. Such individuals who makes these kinds of statements are simply unwilling to admit that Black History was not taught in schools as it should've been and that every other channel on tv is a White channel. A careful study of how black men and women are treated in the workplace, in the educational system, and by law enforcement compared to how their white counterparts are treated is staggering. I can't believe some of the racist or ignorant comments I've heard on these topics. So when I see someone plead “ALL lives matter”, I roll my eyes. I mean, it's true. All lives DO matter. But the #AllLivesMatter movement is insensitive. It just takes away from the painful, real experiences our African-American brothers and sisters have had to endure in the past and will continue to endure. I could go on, but there is an interesting comparison happening among LGBT people in the LDS church. Some members find it necessary to defend the church and plead that suicide isn't just limited to the LGBT community and that the church is not responsible. They go a step further sometimes and state that if gay people are going to “live that lifestyle”, they should just build their own church and leave this church behind. I have addressed these kinds of attitudes in past entries. Put simply, it's okay for active, devoted members of the church to admit that we have a really big problem with the increase in LGBT suicides as of late. One can still have a testimony, serve in a calling, attend the temple, and take the sacrament while having an awareness that something needs to change. My attempt is never to get a member of the church to leave the church. Who am I to take away from the peace and assurance that living by LDS standards brings to others? But, at the same time, we can't be in denial. We can't just close our eyes and plug our ears.
• I've said it before and I'll say it again. Words like “lifestyle” and “agenda” are just fear-based hate speak. The gay people I associate with want a lifestyle that looks remarkably like your lifestyle. The agenda that I see gay people pushing is simple: Equality. If you have something against gay people, look within and try to determine if what you're feeling is fear-based or just borne out of ignorance. If you feel that the LGBT community is aggressive and scary, please be willing to do some research to better understand how the church first hurt them. Most of the things I've seen and heard from the LGBT community regarding the church is reactionary. It's in response to something the church did or said.
• LDS people can't assume that all gay people are miserable and devoid of the Spirit. The gay people I know are among some of the happiest I've ever met. Their relationships are solid and rewarding. “Yeah, but Nate, that happiness won't last. We can't give up what we really want for what we want right now.” I don't buy that. I think that I've experienced untold amounts of sadness, despair, and depression over the years. It has only been since I stopped agreeing to a life of celibacy and loneliness that I've begun to reclaim hope and happiness. And guess what? I don't feel a complete absence of the Spirit in my life. I continue to feel God's love for me.
• I can readily see why any straight, married couple in the church wants to attend church, go to the temple and serve. What is promised to such a couple is simply amazing. There is nothing in the church that is taught over the pulpit that is in conflict with a temple-married couple's union. On the other hand, I've had friends and family say to me “Nate, you just have to make the same choices I've made and you can have every blessing I have.” This simply isn't true. I'd encourage members of the church to truly consider that LGBT members aren't just lacking in faith. I've had faith in spades, I've prayed the gay away for years. And I'm still in the same situation I was in 20 years ago. Maybe it's not the Lord's will for me to be “cured” of my homosexuality. It's actually quite beautiful to consider how the LGBT community fits into God's plan. After all, the LGBT people I have in my life are some of the loveliest, kindest, warmest and most positive people I know.
• Church leadership has presented many teachings that have later been updated or corrected. For instance, contraception of any kind used to be regarded as a “gross wickedness”, African-Americans used to be dismissed as the seed of Cain and regarded as an inferior race, and sexual orientation was something that was chosen. Since then, the Brethren have had to apologize and acknowledge that they were working with a limited knowledge. I'm not suggesting that the Brethren are going to suddenly announce that gay marriage is okay, but sometimes as members of the church, we become so fiercely defensive of church leaders, that we can't admit that, at times, they got it wrong. It doesn't mean they're bad people, it doesn't mean they're not inspired. It just means that they are human and they make mistakes too. It also means that, at times, personal beliefs, prejudices, biases and traditions were presented as doctrine that came directly from God. Most LDS members I know accept every word that comes out of the mouths from the First Presidency and the Twelve as solid truth without questioning it. I don't have that luxury because sometimes, what is presented puts me at complete odds with God. Sure, we all have General Conference talks that “kick our butts”. I need to keep the Sabbath day more holy, I need to do better about paying a full tithing, I should read my scriptures more consistently. Compare those kinds of take-aways to mine: Who I am and what I want in life makes me an enemy to God. I challenge each of you to listen to the October conference with an LDS-LGBT set of ears and just try to imagine what that experience actually feels like.
• I could go on. I'm just asking my active LDS brothers and sisters to approach this topic with sensitivity and an open mind. I don't think my sister will mind me sharing this: She has always been supportive of me. She is one of the most loving people I know. We had a conversation earlier today that meant the world to me. She was asking a lot of questions in an effort to understand me better. There were several moments where tears filled her eyes and she just apologized for the things I've had to go through as a gay member of the church who is still trying to stay involved. She was truly open and teachable and willing to mourn with me and just as willing to get excited with me as we talked about what my life could be. That is what LGBT members of the church need, someone like my sister. Not only that, talking with her helped my attitude change a little. I learned a lot from her perspective as an active member of the church, which leads us to...

A Few Thoughts For My LGBT Brothers and Sisters

• Could it be that the way we choose to communicate with the LDS church could also use some work? Can our approach be more effective as well?
• I have LDS family and friends who are some of the best people I know. They are kind, compassionate, willing to have conversations, open to diversity. And yet, they've been dismissed as bigots and hate-mongers. I get it. If these faithful members of the LDS church are simply trying their hardest to live by the doctrines and teachings taught to them, and on top of that, they exercise their faith in a way that is hurtful and damaging to the LGBT community, it's very tricky. But I have seen the hurt go both ways. Not only have I seen LDS attack LGBT, I've also seen some of my LGBT friends and acquaintances spew out some of the most vitriolic words possible. I'm willing to readily understand the source of such rage, pain, devastation. I know it all too well. But can we possibly have more thoughtful conversations leading to change if our approach changes as well?
• Some of my very own LGBT brothers and sisters have attacked me and made me feel small because I still want some kind of involvement with the church. So, not only am I made to feel unwelcome in the LDS church at times, I am also made to feel unwelcome in my own community. I get it. If the LDS church as an organization has done things that hurt my gay brothers and sisters and then I express that I still have a love of the church, that is problematic. It makes some of you feel like I'm being insensitive to your plight or the experiences you've had. This has been a tricky area for me to manage. I wish I could readily rid myself of any affiliation with the church, but I'm not you and you are not me. I am just navigating my life in the best way I can and trying my best to allow others to do the same. I hope my LGBT friends will do their best to be as open-minded and understanding as my sister was during our recent conversation. Could it be that some of our beautiful LGBT teenagers took their lives because they felt pressure from both sides? We want to point the finger at religion, but we're not as willing to consider how that level of hate toward the church can also have a negative effect on our impressionable youth.
• I love each of you so much. I see your beauty, bravery, vulnerability, pride, tenacity, and love. I strive to take the best parts of Mormonism and the best parts that I've picked up from my LGBT friends and roll it all up to the best version of myself I can produce. As much as I'm asking the LDS community to allow me to embrace my sexuality, I'm asking you to allow me to continue embracing my spirituality. I get that not everyone feels the way I do, but to me, my spirituality is just as important to me as my sexuality. They are both parts of me that I need to be free to discover and develop. If you block those efforts, you're no different than the LDS community you condemn.

In closing, I hope that sharing my own experience not only helps my LGBT friends and family who have experienced some of the same challenges, but that it gives my LDS friends and family my truest version of what it's really like to grow up gay in the LDS church. I can't speak for other LGBT members or ex-members of the church, but this has been my experience.

We must mourn for our LGBT members who take their own lives. But then we must act, affect change, raise awareness, have difficult conversations, and let everyone worship and love as they choose.

I have every reason to hate the LDS church because of my own experiences. But I don't. I love many things about the church. I love my friends and family members who have testimonies of many things that they regard as sacred truths. I see eye to eye on many of these doctrines. I ache and feel intense pain for some of the other doctrines and policies. But I will respect the journey my LDS friends are having. I will celebrate their right to believe what they believe. I will continue to speak up when I see harm. At the same time, I will continue to be outspoken as a gay member of this church. I will walk with my LGBT brothers and sisters. I will continue to understand their heartache, their anger, their despair, and their need to live lives that are meaningful, authentic, and just as full of purpose as their LDS counterparts.

I am Stockton Powers.

I am Wyatt Bateman.

I am Nate Benincosa.

Your son is gay? Here's what I'd suggest.

 

 

As a senior at Roy High School, I was listed in the yearbook as "Most Likely to Have Ten Kids". The yearbook staff eschewed traditional "most likely" topics and came up with some funny ones instead. I remember feeling inner turmoil even then when I found out about the vote. I was only 17, closeted, and I didn't know if I'd ever marry a woman or have kids. Back then, my mind wasn't really open to the possibility of becoming a father in a gay relationship. I felt like such a fraud posing for the yearbook photo.

Since then, I've thought about that vote. Why was I chosen for that category? I could flatter myself and say that it was because I truly made an effort to get to know everyone and make them feel included. Maybe it was because I was very much into the LDS church and made an effort to teach the gospel here and there. I couldn't get enough of seminary and I possessed a real thirst for knowledge, as taught by the church. Or maybe it was because I had a lot of friends who would come to me for guidance and advice. When I put my ego aside, I realize that the biggest reason for earning this "distinction" was that I was the youngest of 8 kids. During my sophomore year, there were FIVE Benincosa kids roaming the halls of RHS. The joke was that you were bound to run into at least one Benincosa between each class. 

In hindsight, it was just a silly yearbook thing. I've come to give myself enough credit to think that I have a valuable point of view. But who am I to give parenting advice? Well, I think I could've been an amazing father. I've mourned over the years I lost where this dream could've been realized. I feel like I've been a father in many ways to many people. In recent years, I am open to the idea of becoming a father and raising children with a wonderful companion.

That won't be enough for some to accept any advice I have to give. I'll readily agree that until I have kids of my own and raise them, I couldn't possibly understand all of the complexities and responsibilities associated with being a parent. With total respect and appreciation, I want to send a message of support to all of the parents out there who are earnestly trying to raise their children to the best of their ability.

With that in mind, I have a point of view that can be helpful. I'm not here to correct parents or tell them how to raise their kids. I'm just here to offer my experience and my advice. Since I started this blog less than a year ago, I've had several parents reach out to me for support. I'm not a trained psychologist and I don't pretend to be. I'm just a simple guy who gives a damn about the experience your gay children may be having in the church and in your households.

A longtime friend recently contacted me about her son:

"Nate, what advice do you have for raising a gay child from a faithful Latter-day Saint perspective? I feel like I may need to prepare for this. I want my child to feel loved and accepted by his Heavenly Father despite the harsh reality that his natural feelings may not be able to be expressed without a feeling of condemnation. It is a painful and overwhelming thought. I don't know how to balance teaching that his natural feelings may not be able to be expressed fully, with needing to let him know he is 100% supported and loved."

First of all, I must say that I loved the way this parent posed her question. Her question was not at all about changing her son. This mother's concern was about protecting him and loving him. She senses her child might be gay and she's preparing to parent in a way where this son feels God's love and her love and support. What a great start!

One thing to note is that this friend asked for advice "from a faithful LDS perspective". Well, that's tricky for me because, according to the official church handbook, I am an apostate. Like, literally, that word is used to describe me in the handbook. I live my life the best way that I can. With each entry on this blog, I've tried to express how much I have loved and supported the church even when I don't feel that in return at times. The purpose of this blog continues to be how I'm navigating my membership in this church while embracing my sexuality in an authentic way. 

 

My previous entries should serve as advice to parents. I hope many of you can glean from what I've shared and relate it to your own experiences. I can only offer advice from my point of view and I hope that it is of some worth to my friend (who gave me permission to share her question) and to many of my readers.

Put simply, here are the 3 main bits of advice I can give to an LDS parent raising a gay son:

1. Love the hell out of them. No conditions. No ultimatums. Your job is simply to love them completely.

2. Assure them of God's love. I get that some of my readers don't believe in God and I'm not forcing my beliefs on anyone. But that is something I very much share with active LDS folks: A belief that there is a God and that He loves us more than we'll ever understand, regardless of our sexual orientation.

3. Teach them to love themselves. No shame, no guilt, no fixing, no changing, no curing. Teach them to embrace EVERY aspect of who they are.

Put simply, my friend's potentially gay son will be just fine if he knows God loves him, his parents love him, and he is taught to love himself. Now, it's not always that simple, but that's the visual triangle I'd start with.

See, to me, being gay isn't something that needs to be fixed. It's not something to cry over or have fear about. Do you really think God would send you one of his gay children, have you raise him as best you can in your limited state only to condemn him to a bad situation eternally? Just do your best to love him and God will see to the rest.

This might upset some parents, but hear me out. I see many parents bring children into this world who become shocked or angry when their kids don't agree 100% with every position or belief they have. The audacity of parents who want to mold and shape mini-me versions of themselves astounds me. I have no patience for parents who kick children out of the home upon hearing that they're gay. I shudder to think how these kinds of parents will account one day for such an unloving act.

Now, don't get me wrong. I totally am on board with having kids and wanting to raise them with tools and resources they'll need to be good, upstanding citizens and contributors to society. I also get that many parents feel that one of the best ways to do that is to enforce certain religious rules that will ensure their salvation. I'm sympathetic enough to know that the main emotion many parents have is fear: the fear that they won't be with their children in the hereafter. What a sad and scary thought! So I get it. Parents raise their kids similar to the way they were raised and they want their children to walk in the right way so that they can be together forever.

I'm not opposed to that. However, I don't believe in an unkind God who entrusts us, imperfect and sinful as we are, to raise His children only to damn them when we don't raise them perfectly. I truly believe that a loving Heavenly Father, a Master Parent, accepts our strengths, weaknesses, successes and failures as parents. Many LDS parents feel a need to cure their children of their homosexuality. I will continue to maintain that God sends millions of His gay and lesbian sons and daughters to earth for a purpose we don't fully understand. I feel that one of my personal responsibilities as a gay member of the LDS church is to teach compassion, acceptance, tolerance, understanding, awareness, and how to avoid judging others.

LDS parents, if your child comes to you and announces he or she is gay, I plead with you. Throw your arms around them, love them and assure them that they aren't broken. See the blessing that this is in your lives and their lives. Try to understand what a beautiful instrument they can be in teaching others how to embrace diversity and accept differences.

In my case, my dad wasn't around much during my childhood and teenage years. I didn't truly get to know him until I was 19. My mother did an amazing job raising 8 children (on her own for many of those years). I feel blessed for being born into the family I was. But with that in mind, there are a few things I could recommend if you are LDS and your son is gay:

1. If your son plays with a doll or tries on a dress as a young boy, don't panic. It doesn't mean he can't also enjoy sports and play with cars. Trying to correct a child to stick to gender-specific stereotypes at such a young age can have a long-lasting and negative effect. It sends a message at a very impressionable age that he "needs to change". Is it the end of the world if your son plays with a Barbie or your daughter plays with toy dump trucks?

2. If your son is in kindergarten and has mostly girl friends, it's ok. Teach him to make friendships, period. It will serve him well in the future. Don't put rules on the boy/girl ratio. Let him be drawn to whomever he is drawn to.

3. If your son is told by a Primary teacher in church that two men getting married is sinful and your son has a classmate with two dads, take the time to educate your son about God's love for each one of us. Sure, if you feel so inclined, teach the law of chastity as taught within the church, but then ask your son what he actually thinks about it.

4. If your son wants to be baptized but you know he's gay, let him get baptized. He just wants to be like Jesus. He's not making temple covenants. Educate your son that his classmate with two dads doesn't have the same privilege and that his classmate can only get baptized when he's 18 and disavows the marriage that his two dads have. Tell your son that he's lucky to be gay and born to straight parents instead of to gay parents so he doesn't have to wait till he's 18. I mean, imagine your sweet boy turning 18 and saying, "I want to be baptized, therefore, I disavow your relationship even though we've been a family unit for the past 18 years." You may sense some bitterness on this one, but yeah, it's a sore spot.

5. If your son wants to know about the birds and the bees, teach him how babies are made. But include ALL of the ways God allows His children to be born. Teach him that God loves all types of families. I remember feeling less than because I was raised by a single mother. My family was incomplete, not good enough. Erase the message that only families with a father and a mother are acceptable.

6. If your son doesn't enjoy cub scouts, don't force it. Same thing with boy scouts. Earning merit badges and learning how to tie knots and how to start a fire will not change his sexual orientation. On the other hand, he might love scouts. Don't assume that because he's gay that he wouldn't enjoy camping and other outdoor activities.

7. If your son feels uneasy about passing the sacrament as a deacon, don't force it. Ask the right questions. I remember being told by priesthood leaders that who I was needed correction. It made me feel unworthy to serve even though I hadn't done anything wrong. I spent 12-18 being taught that gay people were sinful and that their sins were next to murder. Can you imagine the inner struggle I had with my identity? I felt so guilty blessing the sacrament over that microphone because I was taught that I was in total opposition to God. I wasn't even dating or kissing or masturbating and yet I carried so much guilt around, all the time.

8. If your son wants to dance or play music or act in high school, support him. Don't expect him to live out your lost high school dreams in areas that you are passionate about. The friends he will make and the experiences he will have in being part of something bigger than himself will set him up for success in the future. I remember a boy in high school who wanted to dance with the color guard. I made fun of him to my friends. But what courage he had. I often think what his parent's must've thought. Sit on the sideline and cheer him on as loudly as you can. Also, don't assume that your son won't want to play sports. Expose your son to all of the possibilities when it comes to hobbies and getting involved in school. Don't assume. Just introduce and let your son go where he feels a connection.

9. If your son wants to go to a high school dance with another boy, it's not the end of the world. I'd be more concerned about the bullying he might get from his school, but even that is an opportunity to teach him how to be true to himself in the face of adversity. If it truly causes you pain to see your son go on a date with another boy (or eventually have a boyfriend), take it to the Lord and ask for peace and understanding. Assess why you are sad or scared. But don't shame your son into denying his feelings. During my teenage years, I felt a lot of things for a lot of guys. I suppressed every impulse to flirt or hold hands or kiss guys because of what I was taught growing up in the church. Meanwhile, all of my friends dated and had experiences that I totally missed out on. That added to my turmoil as a teenager.

10. If your son decides not to serve a mission, assure him that your love isn't conditional on that decision. Teach him that he can still be a missionary in other ways. He can still teach others how to love and be like the Savior. But take some time to find out if he truly has a belief in God. Does he believe in Jesus Christ? How does he understand the atonement? What are his beliefs about the afterlife? Don't just assume he's where you are at when it comes to the gospel. Also, just because he doesn't serve a missions doesn't mean he's slamming your beliefs.

11. If your son does want to serve a mission, educate him about making temple covenants first. Receiving the endowment is required to serve a mission. I was prepared to serve a mission and I enjoyed the experience very much. But in hindsight, I was not prepared to make the covenants I made. "No sexual relations outside of marriage", right? But that doesn't include gay marriage. So, as a young man, I was covenanting in the temple to be celibate and lonely for the rest of my life. None of my straight peers were expected to make that same covenant, but I was. I feel guilt about making those covenants when I wasn't prepared to do so. But hey, it was a prerequisite to going on a mission that I'd worked so hard to be eligible for. Your son is not just deciding to serve a mission at that time. He is also deciding to make serious covenants. Is he truly ready or interested? Are broken covenants the end of the world? Is the Lord mighty to save? Just something to consider.

12. If your son decides to leave the church, I get how that would be upsetting to active LDS parents. But leaving the church is not the same thing as throwing away one's exaltation. Heavenly Father is 100% clear on the experiences I endured in the church as a kid in primary, as a young man trying to honor his priesthood, as a missionary, as a single gay man trying to get fully involved in the singles program, as a grown man who served in a variety of church positions, and as a gay man who doesn't attend much these days. And guess what? He gets it. He understands me. He is loving and merciful. To me and to all of the men and women in the church who hurt me along my journey. God accomplishes His purposes through ALL of His children, LDS or not.

13. If your son decides to marry another man, have as much happiness for him as you'd have for your daughter who married in the temple. Don't show your son a lesser portion of your love and support. Don't tell him, "I'm happy you found love, but I can't support your marriage." Do you have any idea how it would feel for your son to have FINALLY found love after the difficult journey he's had only to hear that his own parents can't support him on his wedding day? Teach your son what kind of a family is possible through surrogacy, adoption, etc. If grandchildren come to you through a gay marriage in your family, cherish those kids as much (if not more) than your other grandchildren. Make them feel welcome and included at family gatherings.

Many of these things are basic and common sense. But I hope it helps to share my experience. It took me until I was 36 to decide that it would be okay to date men. Why? Because of how I was raised. Now, that's not to be disrespectful to my mother. Anyone who knows her agrees that she's one of the most remarkable women they know. She raised me in the church and I clutched on to what I was taught and what I believed so much for all of my 20's and most of my 30's. My mom never forced it though. I developed my own testimony. 

 

Now, I'm 39 and have never been in a serious relationship. It was really out of fear of punishment that I wouldn't consider dating sooner. It was also fear of losing the love and support of family and friends. Think about that. Do you want your son to live a lonely life and wait until he's 36 to pursue his own happiness? Take it from me, it messes with you to deny yourself of that level of interaction and experience with other people for that long of a period. I will always mourn the time I lost in my 20's and 30's where I could've been living more happily. I'll never get it back.

The good news is that my mom also taught me how to be compassionate and show love to others. She doesn't agree with everything I believe, but I don't question her love for me. She won't mind me saying that I wish we could come to an agreement on a few things. We've had countless conversations where we've examined where I'm at with the church vs. my desire to find companionship and embrace my sexuality. In response, we examine where she's at with the church and how she feels about my choices. On some things, we just lovingly have to agree to disagree.

I was 18 when I first told my mom I was gay. I think about how differently my 20's and 30's would've been had she responded and said, "Nathan, you are not broken. Love who you want to love and I will support it." She's worthy of the "Mother of the Year" award for at least 10 years in a row, but as a gay man growing up in the church, I wish I didn't feel so much pressure to please family and friends by putting aside my own happiness for theirs.

I believe that true faith in God is shown when you just do the best you can to love your kid, no matter what, and then leave the rest to Him. I don't believe in forced obedience. I don't believe in following a path simply because parents require that of their children. With all my heart, I believe that any child can make choices that will please his parents when parents fully embrace who their child is and helps that child embrace himself in the process.

I'm not saying it's wrong for LDS parents to raise their children with LDS teachings. I'm grateful to have been taught many things from an LDS upbringing. However, I am pleading with parents of gay children: Meet your child with who THEY are and where THEY are at instead of who YOU are and where YOU are at. Create a safe space for them to fully realize their potential without feeling like they're broken or need fixing. God created them and we get to trust Him and His creations to make the best choices they know how to make.

Other gay members or former members of the church may advise strongly NOT to raise your gay son or daughter in the LDS church because of the hostility that is shown. I totally get it because of my own experiences. But I also have sympathy for parents who believe what they believe so strongly that they can't fathom raising their children in any other way.

Believe what you believe. Teach your children what you want to teach them. But if your child disagrees, take the time to love them and understand them. What works for you may cause your child intense pain. You may think forcing your child to follow your path will ultimately ensure their eternal happiness. I don't believe in that kind of God. I believe in a Father in Heaven who let's His children be who they are to accomplish His purposes.

Last thought: His purpose is to bring immortality and eternal life of man. As a gay man who is not currently active in church but who loves the Lord, I believe I have a role to play in that grand purpose. My mama taught me that.