the story of a gay mormon

My name is Ty French, and this is my podcast. That's what it's called, the Ty French podcast. Hello, hello, hello, welcome back to the Ty French podcast. My name is Ty French, and this is my podcast. That's why it's called the Ty French podcast. If you're staying along, you're an OG, you're a real tyrant. And if you're new here, hi, how are you? T-G-I-F. I'm so happy it is Friday and... It's June, y'all, and you know what that means? It is Pride Month. Happy freaking Pride. I hope you guys have just so many amazing gay-ass plans this weekend. I know I do. I've talked about it a few times last few weeks, but it is LA Pride this weekend. And I'm just so excited. It's going to be Mariah Carey, Meg the Stallion, King Princess, Violet Chachki, a ton of drag queens. It's going to be a weekend to remember. I cannot wait. It's also my best friend's birthday this weekend. Jose, shout out, and we're just going to be celebrating. I just got back from Mexico. I'll tell you guys all about that next week on the podcast. But today's episode is going to be a little bit more serious than you typically hear on the Typhoon podcast. But it's a topic that I've been wanting to talk about for a while. And I've actually sat down to record this episode four different times this week. And every time I just can't get my thoughts straight. So I'm hoping this is the golden time. But today I'm going to be talking about just growing up gay in the Mormon church. As you guys know, I grew up Mormon. And I'm obviously gay. So I'm just going to talk about my experience and what pride means to me. Pride Month is a month dedicated to the LGBTQIA plus community. And this started back in 1969 with the Stonewall riots in New York City with, you know, Marcia P. Johnson and other black trans people fighting for queer rights. Back in the day, I don't know if a lot of people know this. I'm going to be a history lesson. But it literally was illegal for gays to congregate in public in a bar. So just think about how far we've come. That is one of the reasons why pride is so special. I think pride means something different to every single person in the queer community or our allies. But pride to me is just a time to sit back and reflect on how far we've come as a community, as an individual, how much you've grown in your own life, whether you're gay, by trans, non-binary, whatever it may be. I think it's just a really good time to sit back and reflect on your journey and how far you've come. I'm just going to be speaking from my experience. I realized that I'm a 27 year old white gay man in West Hollywood, California. So I know that I have a lot of privilege. And my story is not going to resonate with everyone. And my story is not the same as everyone in the queer communities. And I am not coming on today to be a voice for the queer community. I am simply here to share my own story and my own experiences and my own opinions. A lot of people might not understand why pride is so important to the queer community. But the queer community is under attack. And we've got people very high up in this country and the world that are trying to erase us and tear us down. Trans people are being murdered. Drag queens are being painted out to be child molesters. Dylan Mulvaney is being under attack for doing a simple ad for Bud Light. And they're getting canceled. Target employees are getting threatened because they have a pride collection. Now more than ever, I feel like it is so important to share the untold stories of the queer community. I am sharing my story of a little Mormon gay boy, just the battles that I faced within my own body. About coming to terms with being gay, how I handled that growing up in a super religious household and Mormonism. And I do not share this story for pity in the slightest. I am not here talking about my story to get any sympathy. I am here to share my truth and to share my experience growing up. I just hope that if someone is listening to this and they are maybe in a similar scenario, they're in a religious household, they're battling with their sexuality. Or if you are trying to figure out how to be a better ally to someone you know that might be struggling with this, that sharing my story might just help you guys have a little bit more understanding and compassion. I think that's really the only way that the world will get to know us as a community and get to know us as individuals and see us as human beings. And really learn to understand us and to grow compassion for us. I cannot even tell you how powerful listening to someone on a podcast, talk about being gay and Mormon, would have been for me when I was in a high school. So I'm just putting my story out there. My first pride was in Salt Lake City in 2015 and it was one of the most beautiful, euphoric experiences of my coming out journey. I truly felt seen for the first time. That was my first time that I ever was immersed in a queer community and a queer culture. And I didn't really even do that much. I was under age, I didn't drink. And it was just insane to go and see a parade, see all these people who understand who you are and accept you for who you are. And it was a really beautiful feeling and it was the first time in my life that I had felt that. I was 18 years old and for the first time in my life I felt like there were strangers who saw me who understood me more than even some of my family members did. Even when it comes down to the pride campaigns that come around every year, you know, we call it the rainbow washing and the gay community. All the company logos, changed to rainbows, everyone has a t-shirt, everyone has some merch. I can't even tell you how happy that makes me because growing up Mormon and growing up in Utah, I didn't really even understand what being gay was. I had never seen gay people, I had no experience of what that even was. I had never seen gay's on TV, I had never seen two guys kiss or hold hands. I didn't know what a drag queen was. I didn't know what being trans was. I had no idea anything about gay culture and there was no representation. The only thing that I knew about it was that it was a sin and that it was not an option. It was not an option for me to be gay. I can't imagine if I were in high school right now. I can't imagine seeing movies and TV shows and commercials of gay couples, queer stories, all these billboards, two guys holding hands. That representation would have absolutely changed my life. Representation is so important and I feel like that is a huge part of what Pride Month is. I haven't really deep dived into this story or my experience since I was on the What We Said podcast back in 2018. If you guys are vapid valley girls from the What We Said podcast, maybe you've heard a little bit of my story. But I was 21 back then and I only been out for a few years. I came out when I was 18 and now being almost 27, I am way more comfortable and in tune with who I am as a person with being queer, with being gay. And I feel like I'm honestly a completely different person. I listened to that podcast episode this morning to kind of reflect and to prepare myself for this episode. Wow. I just have learned so much. I had so much to learn back then and I still have so much to learn and so much room to grow. I feel like a very common question that gay people get asked when people find other gay is when did you know? And it's so funny because like I said, everyone's story is so different. I know people who didn't know they were gay until they were in their 30s. I have known I was gay since probably before I knew how to walk literally my first memories. I can think of I just knew I always knew I was different. I didn't know I was necessarily gay because I didn't know what that was. I would play Barbies. I love to play house. I would run around the street with toilet paper in my hair and act like it was a wig. Being gay and being queer is not it's not a sexual thing. It's not just about who you're attracted to. For me, it is literally every single part of me. It is in my DNA. It's who I am. That has shown ever since I was literally a child. When you're in kindergarten, you're not sexually attracted to the people around you. But you know that you're different. You can recognize that hey, I'm not like these other boys here and they all could tell as well. I remember getting bullied literally in kindergarten. People always said that I acted like a girl. I talked like a girl. And when you don't grow up in a house that is cultivating or talking about queer people or gay people or their existence, it can be so confusing because people are telling you that you're different. You know that you're different. But you don't know what that is. You don't know what being gay is. You don't know what that is. There's no representation in the media. You can just feel very lost. And I felt lost until I was 18 years old. Growing up at the Mormon church, the church acknowledges that people struggle with same-sex attraction. They don't believe that that necessarily is a choice. But they do believe and they preach that what you do with that is a choice. And if you act on your same-sex attraction, then that is the sin. They believe that we recognize that you are born with this battle of same-sex attraction. And that is not your choice. But if you do anything about it, then you're a sinner. Every person has their own challenges in life, right? This is what they teach you. Some people have a disability. Some people struggle with same-sex attraction. Some people have financial stress. Some people have this. This is what they're teaching you. And this, I was taught, was my battle. This was my struggle. And I needed to prove to God how much I loved him and how much I was committed to him by not acting on these feelings. President M. Russell Ballard of the Mormon church said, and I quote, The church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believes that 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 those with same-sex attraction. I think by saying this and this being their stance on it, they are trying to lead with compassion and they're thinking they're leading with compassion by saying that we understand that you can't control this and that God gave you this and this is how you were born. And in a way, that is comforting because a lot of people think that it is a choice. And that is a very frustrating thing to comprehend as a child and while you're growing up and you're struggling with this because the people that do think that is a choice, you just want to scream at them and be like, why would I choose this? This is making my life a living hell. Why would I choose this pain and this conflict with everyone around me? You wouldn't. You would not choose that. So then at least acknowledging that it is not a choice is a little bit a step in the right direction, I guess, but I think they think that they're leading with compassion and that this helps. I don't think they understand how hurtful that actually is. To be told as a child, we know you didn't choose this life. We know that this is hard for you. We know that this is how God made you to be, but don't do it. You cannot act on it. It is a sin. You will go to hell if you act on this. But we understand that that's how God made you and that's innately who you are in your DNA. That is how God made your soul. But you have to fight against that your entire life to prove that you love God and that you want to go to heaven. That being drilled in your head since before you can even remember is I can't even describe I can't even really put it into words how hard that is to be hardwired thinking that I was made this way by God. And he doesn't want me to be that way. I am supposed to fight against this at all costs to give back to heaven, even though I was made this way by God. Because you're taught in the Mormon church God makes no mistakes and everything happens for a reason and God has a plan. What is that plan? What is the reason for that? It's so hard when people compare it to, oh well, everyone has their trials in life and that's yours. You're being ingrained that not only is it a sin, but it is a trial. It is something that is supposed to be hard. A trial is innately the definition it's supposed to be hard. A trial is something that you conquer, that you go through, that you work through. Why does it have to be like that? Why is who I'm attracted to or who I love or who I just am as a human being? Why is that a trial? The frustrating part about growing up gay and not having anyone to talk to and not having any representation especially in the Mormon church is people knew I was gay before I even knew I was gay. Every stereotypical movie that you have seen of the gay new kid getting bullied and blah blah blah blah. That was me. That was my life. I spent my entire life with the constant friction of growing into this beautiful flower and discovering who I am and then people stepping on me and calling me a weed and pulling me out from the ground and saying, you don't belong here. I actually used to have a tattoo on my arm that I ended up getting removed but it was a wildflower for that reason. I've always felt like a wildflower growing up. But who decides between what is a wildflower and what is a rose and who decides which is better? Who decides which flower is more beautiful? Who decided which is more desirable? We've been conditioned that the roses are the end all be all and that they're the most beautiful flower and that wildflowers must be picked and they're gross and they're weeds. But the definition of a wildflower is a flower growing freely without cultivation or human intervention. I think that is so beautiful. I think that's more beautiful than a rose. I think that's more beautiful than any flower. I think a wildflower is the most beautiful flowers because without cultivation, without intervention. That flower still bloomed. Most gays honestly bond on the fact that we were bullied and people made fun of me constantly growing up. I got called the F-slur. I got called gay. I called a girl. They picked on everything they could, how I dressed, how I talked, how I looked, how I walked everything. The only conversations I ever had with my parents growing up about being gay was when I would come home crying if someone threw food on me at lunch. I got chilly thrown on me one day. People would leave rude notes and moldy lunches in my locker and I would come home just so sad and so distraught. They would just look at me very stern with a stern face and say, well, are you gay? I would obviously say no. They'd be like, well, then why are you crying about it? Why does it make you upset? I think they could see the little gay boy in me and that scared them. It was always just why are you crying? If you're saying you're not gay, then why are you crying? It was almost like they wanted me to say it. They wanted me to get it out, but the way that they were presenting it was so not that I felt comfortable with coming out. There was so much anger and confusion behind them asking, well, are you gay? I don't want to seem like this is a hate or slander campaign against my parents. I, or anyone in my life, my mom's genealogy, her family's been Mormon since the Mormon church was literally founded. And my dad grew up in a super strict military household and my dad was very strict. His dad was very strict. His dad was very strict. It was just different times back then and I'm not giving anyone a pass on hatred or bigotry, but I do not fault them. I truly think that they were just doing the best that they knew how and I think that they were scared themselves of how the world was going to treat me. And I think that they saw who I was becoming and they just really didn't know how to handle it. It just sucks that when you're growing up and you're looking for answers and not only do you not find any answers, but the people who are supposed to protect you and give you these answers and help you blossom into this young adult. Are instead meeting you with adversity and even more confusion because you are a part of a church and an institution that is actively telling you all of these things about gay people. Being gay to me, I knew I was different, I knew I was gay, but I just couldn't even wrap my head around it. It literally was not an option. So in my brain, I did not even let myself come to the conclusion that I was gay. I fully thought up until I was 18 that I was going to get married in the temple. I was going to marry a girl. I was going to have kids and I was going to stay more men and that was just going to be my life, even though I knew that I was different. I have, there's no words I can say to explain the feeling of truly not coming to terms with it and putting it so far on the back burner that you truly yourself do not even think that you are gay. There were definitely some times in my life where my mind got very dark and I didn't know if I would be here sharing the story with you guys today and I just felt like God gave me this battle and it is a battle that I can't win. It is not something that I want to deal with my entire life. I can't do it. I cannot carry this pain anymore. I truly did not see the light at the end of the tunnel. I had definitely had suicidal thoughts. I just felt so confused. I felt so lost. I felt so unheard and I remember one time in high school, my dad got in a fight and I ran upstairs and I closed the door and I locked it. I'm just sitting on my bed for like 10 minutes, whatever. Someone comes and tries to open my door knob. Before I could even get up to unlock the door and comes my dad, barged right through the door, door completely off the hinges. I was terrified. I was like, what are you doing? Why did you just break down my door? I will literally never get the look of his face out of my brain. I could just see in his eyes that he didn't know what he was going to open that door too. I didn't know at that point that they knew how dark of a space I was in. After he calmed down, he came back and sat on the bed. I'm sorry I didn't want to scare you, but I truly did not know what I was going to walk into on the other side of the door. My mind wasn't even there in that exact moment. I wasn't doing anything of that sort, but that just goes to show the energy of the relationship between me and my parents at this time. It is so taxing on a kid or a teenager to be going to prom, hanging out with all your friends, having these highs and these moments of spring break and you're hanging out with your cousins and you're growing into this human being that you're supposed to be. This adult and holding in this huge secret that is who you are, that makes you who you are. When you grew up gay, especially in the Mormon church, every single person that I met or talked to, I was lying to. I was lying to myself, I was lying to my parents, I was lying to my family, I was lying to all of my best friends, all of my teachers, everyone. I lied to everyone and they just added, they added, they added, they added. That is so taxing on a soul and how do you expect anyone to grow into a confident, successful, happy human being? It's really hard to put into words or to describe how this all feels if you haven't gone through something similar. I think that's why gay people coin the term, my chosen family and a lot of us do move away from our families and create and cultivate these groups of people that really love and support us and, sorry guys, I'm really trying not to cry, but that truly do just become our chosen family. You're refreshing to have people who understand you and understand what you went through, even if they are part of your chosen family and they're not even gay, but after 18 years of people not understanding me, not seeing me for who I am, you know, look me in the eye and say, I love you, I see you, I celebrate you, sorry guys. It's a really beautiful thing. Anyways, my first gay experience was super traumatic for me, sadly, one of my good friends at the time in high school had an older brother and I was a freshman. He was a senior looking back at it. I definitely think there was an age power dynamic at play. Obviously when you're young, you don't see that. Both of us were Mormon. We both got made fun of for being gay and teased and he was one of my best friends, older brothers. And so I really looked to him as kind of my mentor, not that even that we both told each other that we were actually gay, but we were both getting made fun of for the same things. And we were both Mormon and we just had this like unspoken bond of we know we're different. I'm probably gay, you're probably gay and we're not going to talk about it, but we can relate and chat about the struggles of people making fun of us. So we would text and we would message on Facebook and we would hang out with my friend and we would hang out at like mutual or church activities. Mutual is like a weekday activity for Mormon youth. He was probably the first person I felt safe around and safe talking about getting made fun of and one day he texted me and he was like, oh I'm in your neighborhood, you should come out and say hi. So I go downstairs, I go out to his car, he's just like in the middle of the street and we got talking and I don't even know how it happened, but he kissed me through his car window. I was honestly, I mean, I was elated. I had butterflies. I was like, what does this mean? What are these feelings? Also, I just want to say that Mormons don't talk about sex at all. They don't teach you about anything, let alone gay sex or gay relationships. And I never had the birds in the bees talk with my parents. I never learned anything about sex. Everything that I learned about sex was through porn. And that might be blunt to say, but it's true. And I think it needs to be spoken about because parents need to be having these conversations with their kids. And that's why sex education is so important in school because I truly felt like I did not get any sex education. And especially when it comes to gay sex and just gay relationships in general. And I think learning everything that I knew about gay sex and all of that through porn was obviously a very unhealthy way to learn anything. And that created a lot of trauma within my own self and when it comes to sexual experiences and with this first experience, even though it was just a kiss being so traumatic, there was just so much negativity and so much trauma with every step of the way of my coming out journey. Anyways, a few days later, after the kiss, I was at school and one of my friends comes up to me and is like, wait, there's a rumor going around that you made out with, oh my gosh, I almost just said his name. That you made out with blank blank. My stomach immediately fell into a pit. I was like, this is it. My life is over. He was in the same grade as my sister and I was just so scared that my sister was going to find out that she was going to tell my parents that everyone was going to know this rumor is going around school. When you're young and that happens to you, you're just talking it up so much in your brain and you just think that the world is over and that everyone's talking about this thing and even though that probably wasn't the reality, that was my reality. I felt so exposed. I felt so betrayed. I was so scared and when I got home, I reached out to him on Facebook and I was like, what the heck? Like, did you tell people that we kissed? Why did you do that to me? He proceeds to tell me that we made a mistake and that he's going to tell his bishop and that I need to tell my bishop, which a bishop to Mormons is like our priest. That's who we like confess our sins to and yeah, I felt guilty for it, but I didn't feel guilty enough to tell my bishop. I would rather deal with the guilt of having kissed a guy within my own brain and deal with that with me and God, then to have to say that to someone, especially my bishop, because then he'd probably tell my parents and that just was not going to happen. He says that he's going to tell his bishop and that if I don't tell my bishop, he's going to tell my bishop. I can't even tell you the dark space that this put me in. Any ounce of growth that I thought that I had made to come and closer to realizing who I was, you know, after the kiss, I felt excited. It really opened up my mind to, you know, what the possibilities were. And then for me to be hit with this, it was like devastating. I felt so betrayed to have to go through that as a 14, 15 year old with no one to confide in. The only person that I thought I could confide in just completely betrayed my trust. I had no friends that I could open up to about this. I wish so bad that I would have put faith in my friends around me and that I would have told them what I was going through because I have friends that who I'm still best friends with today that definitely could have helped me through that. But that was just my journey and that was where I was at and I just wasn't comfortable to tell anyone I dealt with it on my own. I'm so grateful that my soul was able to fight for itself and that I was able to make it out of those dark times too many youth do not make it past those dark times. The suicide rates, especially in Utah and with Mormons is so high and that's partly why I'm sharing my story because I wish so bad that I could go back and tell myself all the amazing things that life is going to bring to me and all the amazing people that you're going to meet and that are in your life and that are going to see you and accept you and love you and celebrate you. The places that you're going to travel, the things you're going to see, the things that you're going to experience, the places that you're going to live. I think that's why representation in media matters so much and that's why pride matters so much. If I had seen just a sliver of hope, if I had seen gay people on TikTok, if I had seen people in commercials or on billboards or on TV screens in movies, I would not have thought so alone and it would have saved me so much pain. When I finally got the courage to come out, I was 18 years old, the year was 2014. My family lived in Virginia, I lived in Utah, I moved out right after high school and I was already paying for all my own stuff, I paid for my own phone bill, my car insurance, my car, I had my own job, I was completely financially independent from my family and I honestly didn't do this intentionally but I think subconsciously it was something that I needed to do in order to fully come out and be comfortable with coming out, which I understand it's total privilege and not everyone has that opportunity. I felt the security knowing that if everyone in my life gives me the boot, if everyone in my life kicks me to the curb and turns their back on me and doesn't accept me that I was at least going to have myself. You can kick me to the curb out of your life but you cannot kick me to the physical curb because I pay my own rent. I knew I was going to be fed, I knew I was going to be housed, I knew I was going to have a job, I was going to have a car, I was going to have a phone. I didn't feel safe enough to come out before that, before I had all those things because if I came out in high school and my parents did so on to me and kicked me out of the house, that was not going to be a good situation, I know that that happens to a lot of people. I'm really thankful that I waited and everything happens for a reason, I came out when I came out, it was the right time. When I came out, I didn't really even mean to come out to be honest, it was a beautiful accident. I was on my way home from a photo shoot in Salt Lake City with one of my friends, my friends was the model, I was shooting for a brand and we somehow got started talking about the topic of being bullied and people calling me gay growing up. My girlfriend just looked at me and flat out asked me, well have you ever thought about it? Have you ever thought about being gay? Are you gay? And that was the first time in my life where I felt that someone had asked me that question, not in a judgmental way, not in a hatred way, but with compassion. And I was just hit with this wave of emotions, I did not know what to say, I didn't know what I was feeling. I was asked in a way that I just felt like I didn't want to lie to my friend, but I had never answered this truthfully even to myself and it just wasn't prepared to do it right now in this vehicle, so I quickly changed the subject. I got out of the car, I immediately sat down on the curb and called my best friend Billy, who I've been best friends with since the eighth grade. I call her and I'm telling her about the situation in the car and she's like, what are you telling me? Are you telling me you're gay? When I tell you, we talked on the phone for like four hours. She basically had to talk me off of a cliff and she really helped me come to terms with who I was and I'll be forever grateful for her. You know, I was like, no, I'm not gay, I just wanted to tell you how I felt. I've never had someone ask me that and I didn't know what I was feeling and she's like, so you're gay. I was like, no, I want to get married. I want to have kids. I can't be gay. She's like, you can still get married and you can still have kids. You can do all this. And she just really, with such empathy and such compassion, talked to me for four hours on the phone. By the end of the phone call, I was like, well, I guess I'm gay. I'm so glad I came out to her first because by the end of the phone call, I was excited. I think I was just at this point in my life where I was so ready for it. She was so happy for me that I had finally come to that conclusion on my own. And she obviously always saw that in me and she told me that and she was just waiting for this day. So she was also excited and it was the first time that I really felt seen or heard and celebrated for who I really was. At that time, gay marriage was still illegal and yes, you can still have a partner or you can still yada, yada, yada. You don't need a piece of paper to say you're married. I get that. But to me, the piece of paper, the legality of marriage between a woman and a woman, a man and a man, that was such a hard thing for me to comprehend because the fact that gay marriage was not legal, that completely validated everything that the Mormon church had taught me growing up. That completely validated that it was a sin, that it was bad because thing of other things that aren't legal, killing people, stealing. That was looped together in my brain. It was an illegal act to be married to a man. The church is telling me that it's a sin. So the country that I'm living in that doesn't have anything to do with the church is also telling me it's bad. So it's completely validating everything that the church is saying. And that was a really, really, really hard thing for me to move past because I do want to get married. I do want to have kids. I had to fully just accept that that was going to be my reality. That I was going to have to, you know, just have a partnership. And when I came out, that was probably one of the hardest parts. But thankfully, gay marriage was legalized the following June after I came out. When it came to coming out to my family, it was the fall of 2014, the year I graduated high school. I came out to my late aunt Carrie first. She was the only one that I was close to that wasn't Mormon. She wasn't raised Mormon. And she married into the family. And so she didn't have any of that ties to the Mormon church. She was probably the only person in my life growing up that I can look back on and really saw who I was and wasn't scared of it. She really nurtured who I was and she really tried to amplify my passions and what made me special. She saw the little gay boy and me and even without saying anything, she never brought it up to me. She just tried her best to nurture me, to let me grow into who I wanted to be. She stuck out for me when it came to my uncles, when it came to my parents. If my dad made comments, she was the only one that was in my corner really backing me up. She's the one that showed me photography, actually. She's the one who got me to pick up a camera and really helped me find and nurture this love for photography that I have that eventually grew into my career. I have everything to thank to my aunt Carrie. Sadly, she passed away almost one year after I came out to her. And I just am so sad that I'll never be able to tell her how much she meant to me. I know that she is looking down on me and she's so proud of me and she's so proud of who I've become. When I came out to her, we talked through different ways that I could go about it with my parents. She was the one that explained to me, like, listen. This is going to suck and they might disown you. They might never talk to you again, but that is their loss. They are done being your parents. You live on your own, you pay your own rent, you pay for all your own stuff. And it is your time to live your life for you. If they disown you, that's on them. Any relationship from here on out is up to them. They've taught you what they want to teach you. You're out of the house. Any further relationship is a choice between both of you guys. You have to choose to pay, to fly home. They have to choose to visit you. It is a choice to continue a relationship with them. My aunt Karen, I had come to the conclusion that it was a good idea for me to come out to my mom via text message. And a lot of people would disagree with that. And, you know, if I were in the state that I am today, I also maybe would disagree with that. I would love to say that I was more mature and strong enough to have a face-to-face conversation with my mom, but at that time, I truly wasn't. And I didn't know how she was going to react. Everything happens for a reason. I don't regret it at all. I actually think it's a very safe way to come out to someone. I wanted to be able to say everything that I wanted to say eloquently without being interrupted, without getting emotional. And I also wanted my mom to be able to read everything that I had to say and not react. Not have an initial reaction. I didn't want her to say anything that she was going to regret. I didn't want her to say anything that she couldn't take back. I wish so bad that I had a screenshot of the text message. I don't. I don't even know exactly what day it happened. Basically, the text ended with saying, I love you, would love to talk about this more. If you want, feel free to give me a call if you want to chat. She didn't call me back for a few hours. And I'm sure you can imagine that was a very long waiting period. I've done it. Those were the longest few hours of my life. And she called me a few hours later and the conversation wasn't bad. It wasn't good. I was expecting the worst and I landed somewhere in the middle. Also, I just have to reiterate. I am not trying to paint my mother as a bad person, as a bad mom, as a homophobe. This is just my experience. This is, I'm sure she has the side of the story. And I know she loves me and I know that she truly was just trying her best. That's the thing about parents. We grow up and we think that parents have all the answers and that they know everything and they don't. The same way that we are living our lives for the first time. They are living their lives for the first time. No one handed my mom a pamphlet on how to be a Mormon mother and have your son come out as gay over text message and how to react. I really try to give my parents grace with their reaction and with their coming around to me being gay because they're learning at the same time I'm learning it. And I had 18 years to go through this battle even though they might have known or they might have had suspicions and I got teased about it. I truly think that my mom thought that I was going to get married to a girl that I was going to follow the tried and true Mormon path. Just because I had come to terms with something doesn't mean that she's on the same page as me. At the exact same time. The phone call didn't go quite as I had hoped. She assured me that she loved me and that I was always her son. She was saying that love and marriage isn't always about sexual attraction. That's kind of what the church teaches you. That's how Mormons teach you is that I recognize that you might struggle with the same sexual attraction but you're not supposed to act on it. And so that's kind of what she was saying is there are a lot of people in the church that struggle with this that still get married at the temple and still have kids and still are sealed to their families. You know, the church has therapists that you can talk to about this and about your struggles. And I was just like, hold up. Let me stop you there. That's not going to happen. How selfish am I to get married to a woman and know that I'm gay? How selfish am I to bring children into this world into a household with a father who hides the best part of himself and is dealing with this battle? That is not going to make me a healthy, happy individual. And that's not going to make me a good father. That's not going to make me a good partner. That's not going to make me a good husband. I was like, mom, I love you but I'm not doing that. You can cut it with the go see a therapist talk. I was so ready to just get out and move on. And this is probably an inappropriate question for me to ask her at that time. But I asked her straight up. I was like, so if I get married to a guy or you're not going to come or you're not going to support it. And I feel bad for putting her on the spot in that moment. But she was like, yeah, I don't know if I could come or and support it. I just really desperately needed to gauge where she was at to prepare myself for the long road ahead. You know, like she's saying she loves me. She's saying I'm her son. But what is my future? Like, do I have a mother figure still or not? And if you're saying to me that when I get married, you don't know if you could come to me, that's meaning no. We wrapped up the conversation with her telling me that I needed to tell my dad. Now, what you have to understand is as you've heard before, my father and I did not have the best past and the best history of me growing up. In my eyes, my two brothers were the perfect ideal sons that my dad wanted. My older brother Brock was in ROTC. He loved to play Call of Duty with my dad and he joined the Marines after high school. My younger brother, Dalin, loved playing with cars, loved fixing cars, loved being out in the garage working on my dad's old vehicles. My dad was a mechanic as well. And so it was like his little mini me. He had the two perfect sons, the two perfect alpha males. And then there was me in the middle of them. We just never had anything that we bonded over growing up. He would walk in on me playing dress up in my sister church clothes and rip them off of my body completely, physically rip the dress off my body. He just did not understand who I was and I think he saw who I was turning into and it scared him because it was different and he didn't know any better. And I don't want to make it sound like I'm tearing down my parents in any sense or that I grew up in an unloving, abusive, unhappy household. I truly think that they were just trying their best. And there were things that they lifted me up on that they supported me in. I did drama in school plays. I was in dance in high school. I was in fashion class. I picked up photography. I was different and they did support me in a lot of ways. They came to my school plays. They clapped. They filmed it. They were there for me. I just think that they saw that going further and that scared them. They let me do the school plays in high school. But then they also forced me to be on the football team. And I was like, I don't want to be on the football team. And they were like, you don't know until you try it. And I was like, I think I know. But I did it anyways. So I was doing school plays. I was on the football team. I was in dance class. They made me go to scout camp and do all the scout things. And my dad was such a strict dad. He was the patriarch of the household. In the Mormon church, the man of the house is the man of the house. He's the patriarch. He makes the rules what he says goes. A woman's place in the world is at home in the kitchen with her children. And they still preach that to the stay. There's nothing wrong with being a housewife or being a stay at home mom. But there is a lot of misogyny that comes within the church that it is not a choice. And that that is a woman's place in the home. So when my mom told me that I needed to come out to him, I was like, absolutely not. You can tell dad everything that I just told you on the phone or you can show him the text message. You can tell him that I'm more than happy to talk to him on the phone. I'm more than happy to have a conversation with him. He's welcome to call me. I would love to chat. But make sure you let him know if he has anything negative to say or if he's going to call and yell at me. Don't even bother calling. Don't ever call me again. That was truly where I was at. And I was so scared of his reaction that I was willing to never speak to him again. If he called me and started yelling at me, I truly think I would have hung up because I just was in a place where I could not handle that. And I had already come to terms with who I was and what I was doing that there was no changing my mind. To my surprise, my dad called me and actually had a lot better conversation than I did with my mom, which shocked me because I was always closer with my mom. My mom was always the softer parent. He told me that he loved me. I'll always be his son. It wasn't a great combo. He was recognizing that that is who I am and that he's not going to change that. He also said that he didn't know if he could go to my wedding or see me with a guy like that. If I brought a guy home, he doesn't know how he would react. He doesn't know how the kids would react to all my nieces and nephews. He just really wanted me to know that it doesn't come from any sort of hatred or not acceptance of me. It's just that he grew up in a different time. And his dad was really strict with him. And he basically was like, if you respect my views, I'll respect your views. And that's kind of where we ended it. And honestly, I was expecting the worst. So I was willing to take that. I have no regrets coming out this way. Everything happens for a reason. You know, you could pick a part and say, I would do this different. I would do this different. I would do this different. But at the end of the day, it happened out. It happened. Fast forward to 2020. And I was home for my brother's wedding. This was probably the only like third or fourth time I'd been back to Virginia since I graduated high school and moved out. And I was working on my laptop downstairs. And my dad came and sat across from me and started to talk to me. He told me that his only sister came out as lesbian when she was in college. And she went through this huge phase. And the family was not accepting of it. My dad said that he wouldn't go to her wedding. I already knew all this. But he was just refreshing my memory. His sister ended up saying that it was a phase. And she actually wasn't gay. She ended up marrying a guy. And that, for me, was actually really hard for me coming out to my parents. Because there are only experience of someone being gay and coming out. It was a phase. And it was a choice. And they were just experimenting in college. And so when I did it, I felt like a lot of pressure that they were going to think that I was just following it in those footsteps and that it was also just a phase for me. Yada, yada, yada. This isn't a phase for me. Sorry about it. He started to tell me that he's been thinking a lot about that stance and what he said to me when I came out. And he wanted to sit me down. And he wanted to tell me that he's changed his mind and that he's grown. And he has changed from his old beliefs and that if I ever get married, that he will be there. And he would be honored to be there. He apologized for not telling me sooner and that it took him time to get to this point on his own. And he said that no matter what, always be a son and that he loves me. He apologized for being so strict with me growing up. He thought that dads could not show emotion that they should not show tears or weakness. And that's just how he grew up. And he wanted to be strong and so disciplined. And he wanted me to grow up and be strong. He mentioned to me that when I was young and I would come home and I would cry about being bullied about being gay and he would ask me if I was gay and I would say no and he'd say, why are you crying? That he would also say, if I chose this life that my life would be very hard, I would have a lot of trials and tribulations ahead of me. And he apologized for this approach and he said that he was just trying to prepare me for the hard truth of the world. Back then, gay marriage was illegal. He doesn't know anything about the queer community. I'm sure he's scared of a multitude of things and just how society is going to treat me. And he was just really trying to prepare me for the hard truth of the world. And he wasn't trying to make me feel that he wouldn't accept me if I was gay. Unfortunately, that is how he came across. It was just a really raw and honest conversation. Probably one of the realest and most authentic conversations me and my dad have ever had. And it was a conversation that I didn't even know I needed because at this point I'd been out for a few years. I was living my own life. We had kind of just pushed me being gay under the rug. I still don't think I've ever talked to my mom about being gay since the moment I came out to her over that text and after that phone call. I would never talk about boys with my mom. I would never, you know, she's not calling me asking me about how's pride. We just don't talk about it because I know it makes her uncomfortable and that's fine. So it's a need to know basis. I didn't know that I was even looking for any acknowledgement past that as long as I knew that they were still there for me. If I need them, that's all I needed. But this conversation that I had with my dad, I was really, really thankful that we had. It really healed an inner part of my child. And I really commend him for admitting that he was wrong and for having these uncomfortable conversations with me. And I truly feel like it opened us up to start a new relationship. The question I probably get asked the most when people find out that I'm gay and I grew up Mormon is, are you closely with your family? How do they feel? The answer is no, I'm not close with my family. It makes me really sad to say, but I'm just not. I know if I ever needed anything, I could reach out to one of my family members and they would do it. They would help me out financially. They would get me a plane ticket if I needed to go somewhere. They would help me out there there for me in that regard. But we aren't close, we don't talk, we don't text. I see them once a year if that. And I talk to my mom on the phone maybe once a month, every other month. I talk to my dad on a need to basis. And the rest of my siblings, I just don't really communicate with. And I have six siblings. So that's kind of shocking because you would think I'd be at least super close with one of them. I will say my sexuality has nothing to do with the closeness between my siblings. And I, we just didn't really grow up in that sort of a household. We always butt heads. We are all very, very passionate, aggressive human beings. We get it from our dad. We just didn't grow up to be besties. We're so different, like I said, my brothers and Marines. My other brother is a mechanic. He runs a tow company. I'm an L.A. I'm a photographer. My other sister lives in Utah. She lives on like a farm. My other sisters in college. We're just so different. And that's fine. I know that at the end of the day, if I needed them, they would be there for me. And that they support me. We're not not close because of my sexuality. And I think that's a very important statement to make. Our closeness is just, I don't know, we're very different lives. We have a lot of different opinions on a lot of different things when it comes to politics, when it comes to just a lot of stuff. So that is the reason why I feel like we're not that close. And it makes me sad. I wish that we were closer. I see my friends like Teza and her family and her brothers. And they're so close and she's so close to their parents. And I want that. But they're just so similar to who they are. And their foundation of who they want to be is so similar. And mine is just not like that. So we'll see. One day, hopefully, maybe when I have kids or, you know, I don't know. I'm very lucky and blessed to say that I didn't have anyone in my life that completely turned me away or shunned me when I came out to them. Which is obviously your biggest fear when you're gay and you're coming out to people. You're going to be turned away disowned, looked at differently. And there were definitely people in my life that, you know, maybe weren't as accepting of it as others. But even those people, I feel like eventually came around and still show love for me in their own way. I will say the older I've got, and as they still unpack the trauma from growing up in the Mormon church and growing up gay, I always tried to be like, I respect you. You respect me. Let's respect each other. But I feel like I've gotten to this point as I've gone older that I'm so comfortable with who I am. Now I'm so comfortable being gay. I love being gay. Even though you don't choose to be gay, if I had a choice, I would choose it. It's so fun. There's so much love. Queer people are some of the most beautiful, special human beings I've ever met and ever come across. I love my queer family. I love my queer community. I feel now more than ever. I have a responsibility to my community to stand up to injustices. The final straw for me with the Mormon church and then losing my respect was when Elder Holland did a rebuttal speech to BYU in retaliation of their valedictorians speech. The valedictorian happened to be gay and had mentioned things in his speech about the community and diversity and inclusivity at BYU. Elder Holland, who is an authority of the Mormon church, came out and said, We have to be careful that love and empathy do not get interpreted as condoning and advocacy. This was back in 2021. This statement was the final straw for me because what is love and empathy if not backed by advocacy? That is why pride is so important. It is so important that we tell these untold stories of the queer community and that we really try to educate those around us or allies and other people in the community and just really hope to understand everyone, empathize with everyone, and love everyone. I'll end on this. I am so proud of who I am. I am so proud of where I am. I am so proud of the community that I am in. To anyone listening to this, I love you. I see you. I hear you. You are loved. You are valid. You are important. Thank you so much for letting me share my story. If anyone is listening to this and is going through something similar or struggling, know that I love you and there is a whole rainbow mafia out there. Just ready for you, ready to accept you, ready to celebrate you, ready to love you with open arms. Go celebrate pride this weekend and I love you guys. Thanks for listening and stay tuned for next week. Thank you.