Four Years Out: My Bachelor's Degree in Being Gay

I can't believe it has been four years since I came out to myself. Four years of learning who I am again. Four years of wonderful new experiences. Four years of education about what that means for the rest of my life. Today, I receive my bachelor's degree in being gay.

Like any other four-year degree, I've had my ups and downs. I've had some of the best teachers--my family and friends--who have taught me about love and who helped support me through it all. I've also had the hard professor of life teach me about bigotry, hate and misunderstanding. More than anything though, I've learned how to experience joy--my own and that of others--and live authentically, striving to be my best self everyday.

I like the person I've become, and I'm proud of my heritage. I'm proud to be a gay Mormon. I'm proud of the way my family has grown to accept me. I'm proud that I have been able to give back to the community in my own way, from deeply personal relationships to helping out a number of gay/Mormon organizations.

I certainly haven't learned everything yet--there is so much more to come. So I've decided to carry on and pursue an advanced degree in being gay. I just hope it doesn't take four more years to graduate with honors by finding a husband!

Three Years Out

It has been three years to the day since I came out to myself. Three years since I first said the words, “Hello world. I am a Mormon young man who is attracted to other men.” Three years of happiness and sadness, triumph and failure, ups and downs, as any full life tends to have.

I’ve come out to everyone. I’ve lived an authentic life. I’ve organized advocacy groups and counseled those in urgent need. I’ve discussed the needs of gay Mormons in the White House. I’ve been to Pride celebrations in four different cities. I’ve celebrated with people as they marry their same-sex partners. I’ve been surprised by allies I never expected. I’ve made some of the best friends in my life. And I’ve been in love.

On the other hand, I’ve been defriended for advocating marriage equality. I’ve experienced a militant bishop and attended church less regularly. I’ve lost the ability to go to the temple over technicalities. I’ve cried because sometimes I still don’t understand why I am. And I’ve suffered heartbreak that stings.

To me, the positives outweigh the negatives. I’m still standing and smiling. I’m still the same person I’ve always been. I’m still the son/friend/uncle/coworker who strives to be good and helps others be happy. And I’m still growing, learning and loving.

The best part about coming out has been the conversations with family, friends and even strangers, bearing my soul and providing a familiar face for the issues that homosexuality and religion raise. Eyes have been opened, hearts warmed and tears shed.

It has been three years since I came out. I’m only at the beginning of my journey, and the road ahead is still unknown. But now, I know I am not alone and that makes all the difference.

Coming Out, Part 5

I'd finally done it. After all of the anxiety, self-loathing, guilt, fear, trepidation and uncertainty, I told my parents I was gay.

And I was still ok.

I hadn't been kicked out. I wasn't rejected. I wasn't cast out of the family.

I was loved. I was accepted. I was still me.

I cannot accurately describe the feelings I experienced in that moment. After a lifetime in the desert, it was a cool drink of water. After years of carrying burdens almost incapable of bearing, it was a suddenly lightened load. It was a shout of joy, a needed relief, a celebration of life, a moment of zen, and a manifestation of love and acceptance.

The feeling was akin to the divine love I felt in the temple when I asked God if He accepted me as His gay son. My earthly parents had accepted me too.

Dropping to my knees in my room, I offered a prayer of gratitude. I always prepare for the the worst and hope for the best, and the near best had happened. That prayer was said through tears of joy.

I was giddy. I was thrilled. I was enthralled. I was humbled. I was happy.

I messaged my friends who had offered their best sentiments before, wanting to share the amazing news with them. There is no way I could have gotten through without their constant support. I smiled as their responses of joy came back. They had all been waiting in eager anticipation. I was glad I was heading to Salt Lake the next day to meet some of them for the first time.

Glancing at my packed suitcase, I laughed softly at myself. I had been so worried to the point of being sick, and now it all seemed so silly. Of course my parents accepted me. I was their son! Why hadn't I told them years ago!?!

I headed back downstairs to be with my family, finally feeling normal for the first time that entire reunion. I was smiling again, I was myself again.

Thinking to myself, I knew the path ahead would not always be easy. Hard decisions await me in my future along with heartbreak and grief as well as joy and happiness. But I was at peace knowing I had a foundation of godly and familial love as I took another step forward in my journey across the moving horizon.

An Unexpected Text

I was at work today when I got a very unexpected text from my dad.

I talk with my parents on the phone almost every week. My family is by far the biggest support in my life. My dad hardly texts, so I am always happy to see one from him appear on my phone.

This one caught me a little off guard:

"I was thinking about you and had to tell you how much I admire you and all you do! I am amazed at your ability, your resourcefulness, your dedication. I didn't mean to go on like that, I just wanted to let you know how terrific I think you are! I love you."

Talk about the warm fuzzy!

I hope when I come out to him in July he will still think of and love me the same way. I don't want to disappoint the best role model I have had in my life.

But that is July. Right now, I am happy with the positive affirmation.

I love you too, Dad.