When contemplating starting this blog, I thought of many stories similar to mine I have read. The ones I gained the most from were those that included enough background information for me to understand the person behind the story. I hope that helps people understand why I’m including so much back story. So…here is Part 2 of my Introduction. Please let me know what you think!

If you haven’t read my first post, I suggest you do so before reading this one.

You now know some of the things that shaped who I am, but there’s still more to go before we get to the opening of the closet door.

So that I don’t lose those who do not share my background in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, if there are any terms or phrases in this, or any future, post you don’t understand, please see my LDS terms and phraseology page.

I had many different experiences that shaped how I understand myself and understand those around me. While I want you to understand fully, I grapple with how much to share here. I want to be as truthful and open as possible because I believe in the importance, the necessity, of owning our past and what has shaped us. That said, at this point in my progression, I am not ready to share everything with everybody. So, if any of this hits home to you and you want to understand more, contact me.

I tend to feel things deeply, but especially shame and guilt. I felt intense shame every time I came across (or some times sought out) pornography, thought of any sexual act, even if it came uninvited and I pushed it away immediately. That said, I was also good at burying that shame deep down and hiding it from the world. Interestingly, I also felt a constant reassurance from my Heavenly Father that I was ok, even during times when I felt I was giving in to temptation and was weak. The problem was, I had a hard time believing it. Looking back, God was trying to help me understand that I should give myself a break and not feel such deep shame because I was doing what was completely normal for a young teen. I wish I could have believed that.

There is a question that Kyle Ashworth, host of the Latter-Gay Stories podcast asks nearly all of his LGBTQ+ guests: “When did you feel like you were different?” Most of his guests identify with that question and point at a time in their lives when they began to understand their sexual orientation or gender dysphoria. I’ve asked that question of myself…when did I feel different? The truth is, I’ve felt different ever since I can remember, but not because I understood or identified that I was gay…no, that came much later. I just felt different, like I didn’t belong here. The mortal world felt foreign to me.

If you’re LDS, do you remember the Sunday School lessons about Eternity where the teacher would draw a line all the way across the chalkboard with a small dot in the middle and then ask the class to imagine the line going forever in both directions and then point out that the dot was our life on earth? Remember how the class would have a hard time comprehending that? To me, it made prefect sense, because that’s exactly how I felt. I felt lost and trapped in this miniscule capsule of time surrounded by Eternity, an Eternity that I felt surrounding me nearly all of the time.  

What else shaped who I am and how I feel about myself the world around me?

12-18. This is a formative time in a young man’s life and mine was influenced, as is everyone’s, by some key experiences and people. I wish I could have allowed the positive experiences to root as deeply as the negative.

12-13: We got a new, charismatic Scout Leader. Looking back, I understand more about this man than I ever could have at the time. A closeted gay man trying to make his marriage work and legitimize himself as a good, Mormon man, broke and ran, taking money that I’d worked hard to earn for a trip to the Scout Jamboree, and left his family for a man he was having an affair with. It was sudden, it was public, and it was messy. Even though I was just short of the money I needed to go to Jamboree, having worked as much as possible on every single fundraiser, it was decided that the older boys should go, as we younger boys would have another chance. That felt so completely unfair, so unjust. I have never been able to bring myself to work hard on a fundraiser, for any reason, since. Even though there were two absolutely amazing Scout Leaders after that, I threw all my merit badges and scouting books and information in a drawer and walked away.

14 or 15: There was a boy a couple years older than me I admired. Now, don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t the type I later realized that my admiration for was actually attraction, I just held him up as a brave example of being different. Going into any more detail may identify him, so I’ll leave it at this. I spent the night at his house once and he used that admiration to lead me into a compromising position with him. Nothing major happened, but it affected me deeply. Once again, I felt dirty. Here is where my defense mechanisms kicked in. I knew he’d manipulated me and took advantage of my respect for him, but I said nothing to anyone for nearly two decades. I piously forgave him and treated him even better than I had before. I took pride in the fact that I could do that and not go crying to my parents or the Bishop.

12-High School Graduation. Sometime in 5^th and 6^th grade some elementary school friends turned on me labeling me Momma’s Boy, Fag, Gay, Hypocrite. There were key things happening in their own lives that caused their behavior, and most have since asked for forgiveness in their own ways, but it was painful, and something I didn’t understand. While I was a musician and took dance from age three to the end of 8^th grade, I also played football, basketball and ran track and, frankly, were it to come to a fight, I believe I would have won. I was not what was even close to being stereotypically gay in the 80’s. Not only was I athletic I also dated girls almost constantly and had a number of steady girlfriends through the years. This type of treatment lasted from 6^th grade all the way through High School Graduation.

16-17. My Bishop during this time was a good man. A loving man. A kind man. Save one thing. He used shame to try and steer boys away from what he saw as sinful behavior. I was the only Priest in the ward from my grade. Most of the Priests in our Quorum were Juniors and Seniors. I turned 16 the fall of my Sophomore year. We had clear instructions from our Bishop that we were not to bless the Sacrament if we had strayed in any way during the week. If we did anything we shouldn’t with a girl (heaven forbid anyone admit to anything with a boy) and confessed to him, he would place us on the stand in front of the Ward and we were not only banned from blessing the Sacrament, but also from taking the Sacrament. Luckily, I never ended up on the stand, but I did do things on his list that should have kept me from blessing the Sacrament. But, each time I tried to follow his edict and ask the other priests to fill in for me and they weren’t able to, I would feel the Spirit tell me it was ok for me to go ahead and bless it. Even though I felt that from the Spirit, I questioned it because it went against what my Bishop told me and I would feel horribly guilty.

Looking back, I have also recognized that I was depressed through most of my high school years.

Enough of the negative. Now I’d like to talk about some traits and experiences that I feel were true blessings.

At 12, I received a strong impression to get my Patriarchal Blessing. The age 12 is quite young to receive this particular blessing, but the feeling was persistent, so my parents gave their permission. In this blessing I was told that I was close to a certain family member on my Dad’s side and that I could teach that person the Gospel and they would accept it. I took that to heart and spent a lot of time nurturing that relationship. I love and hold on to that memory. Nearly every day that I didn’t have sports practice during Junior High, I would stop by and spend an hour or so just sitting and talking. I came to understand and love that person so deeply, I still feel very connected long after their passing.

Music was a huge part of my life growing up. I was active in the high school choral program and was able to perform in numerous state and regional groups. I received many accolades, performed leads in musicals and sang with family, friends and as a soloist regularly. When I was most down, music saved me. Most evenings my Junior and Senior year I would come home after my parents were in bed and, to clear my head of the negative emotions and experiences of the day, I would play and sing at the piano until I was relaxed and able to sleep. I also knew that when I performed, people that heard had their hearts softened and souls renewed. I knew it was a gift and I was so grateful for it.

Basketball was also something that I was good at and loved. I was on the starting 5 from 7^th grade through most of my senior year. My senior year I did end up on the bench often as my Varsity coach and I didn’t see eye to eye. I felt his coaching style was unfair to my teammates and I became quite vocal about it (no wonder I was benched). I couldn’t see unfair treatment of friends and classmates by people who should know better, and not speak up. This is a trait that I feel blessed my life and, hopefully, the lives of others. He and I had the opportunity years later to talk about our relationship and were able to heal some of the wounds we caused each other.

Another blessing I am grateful for is that I saw my prayers answered, some immediately and directly and some more subtly, but I knew that God saw and loved me. I knew my Heavenly Father was there. He saw and helped me through many things. Through His gentle guidance I came to understand that the deep-rooted shame and guilt making me very uncomfortable at church wasn’t a good enough reason to not attend. So, I did and, when there, the Spirit would help me take in the positive messages I needed to assuage some of that negative energy. God also helped me to forgive those who treated me badly, showing me that they were human and struggling with things just like me. Through his guidance, I came to understand that we all have different beliefs and standards and holding others up to the same standards I held myself to was damaging to them and to me. Giving people the benefit of the doubt was something that became second nature to me. I may have been hurt by what was done to me during my teen years, but I never held it against anyone. I will also be forever grateful for the few true friends I had that always had my back.

I will also be forever grateful that my home life was good. Except for some fairly typical sibling arguments and rivalries, home was a haven for me. It was a place of safety where I could let down some of my guard and just be.

Finally, during these years, I learned that I loved the Gospel and the Church because of the teachings and the Spirit, not for the community. I have heard so many discussions about how Church was/is a way of life for most people…a place where there is a feeling of belonging…a community. That has never been the case for me. I’ve always felt like an outlier. There were times that I spoke what I felt to be true, things I thought were obvious, and later came to find that what I had said was looked at as disruptive and controversial.

I truly do feel I was blessed and watched over during that very formative time and am thankful for His constant, watchful eye.

Whew!  That’s enough for now.

Until next time, be well and Believe!