Time to Be Me

TL;DR: I'm gay. Feel free to freak out. Or, preferably, don't. I only sort of care.

I've been thinking about this post for a long time. I've been working on it in bits and pieces as they come to me. For example, some of this I wrote during a particularly boring International Relations class. I want this post to be a good read; however, it's more important to me that it is accurate in its reflections on my thoughts and feelings. So I'm taking it slow, putting it together as ideas coalesce, and refining thoughts and words. Basically, I'm writing this like I should have written every school paper ever (#liveandlearn).

The best way to do this is to come right out and say it: I'm Luke. I'm 26 years old. I'm an American. I graduated in Political Science. I'm (sometimes) a runner. I'm a gamer. I'm occasionally a musician. I'm fairly liberal. I'm a brother. I'm a son. I'm a friend.

I'm also gay.

Surprised? That's a genuine question. I've been so against it that I've tried to hide it. I've even lied to myself so much that I actually believed I wasn't gay. However, I can no longer hide it because it's unhealthy, and it makes me unhappy. I have to be genuine.

That doesn't mean that I don't struggle with it some days. I never asked to be gay. I never wanted it. In fact, I can't imagine why anyone would want to be gay, especially when they live in Utah/Idaho. I can't. You all wonder why I hate Provo so much: this is it. Provo is a place of extreme Mormonism (because duh). But the religion that I grew up with, that I was taught by my parents, that I have loved with all my heart has been twisted and contorted into something different. "You must get married," they preach. "Only then can you continue your progression." They push it in church, they push it at school; I literally cannot go anywhere in Provo to avoid this idea that I must get married, and I need to do it now. But what Provo doesn't seem to get is that I can't get married; at least, not in the way it wants me to. And to have that constantly pushed into my face, made a requirement for good favor with my God--that is emotionally and spiritually murderous.

'Murderous' might seem like a really strong word, but it's an accurate one. Each lesson in Priesthood, each talk in Sacrament Meeting that proclaims the wonders of dating or marriage drives a dagger further and further into my heart. Each time someone talks about Priesthood responsibilities and ties that to marriage is like a shot to my face. And with each blow, my resolve to stay with it all weakens. How can I want to be a part of a church that is actively killing my spirituality and emotions? I can't, I tell you, and that damages my frail understandings further.

There is a fix, and believe it or not it comes from my dad. He once told me that when he was called to be in a Young Single Adult branch presidency, he told the branch president that he would not tell the young single adults to get married. He just wouldn't. Instead, he would simply teach them the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and they would feel a desire to do what was right (read: get married). What a novel concept: teach the Gospel that we have been called to teach. Did Jesus run around and tell people to go on dates if they weren't married? No. In fact, the only clue we have that Jesus even cared about marriage is that He attended a wedding in Cana.

That was kinda heavy. Sorry. Here's a corgi to make things better.

Better? Better. Now back to the topic.

I'm gay. And that's something that you, as the reader (and hopefully my friend) are going to have to accept just like I have had to. Believe me, I didn't want to accept it for a long time, but I can't ignore it anymore. It's a part of who I am.

I say "a part" because I think there are far more important parts of me and my identity. The person that is Luke is made up of so much more than who he is attracted to. That list up above (way up there; congrats on making it this far) highlights a few aspects of my identity that I feel are important. It is by no means exhaustive. I hope to keep adding to it as my life goes on.

The thing that is different about that list of stuff and being gay is that I had a choice for many of those things. I chose to study political science. I choose to run. I choose to play a lot of video games. But I didn't choose to be gay. I didn't choose for my body to be attracted to other guys. I didn't. Do I think God made me this way? I don't know. Do I think that environment and conditioning played a role? Probably. I know enough about psychology to recognize their roles in development. But I also know that correlation does not equal causation. Just because events in my past or the environment I grew up in may be linked to homosexuality doesn't mean they caused it.

I believe that I have always been gay. I was gay when I sat next to you in class. I was gay when I took you on that date. I was gay when we won that volleyball game. I was gay when I went snowboarding with you. I was gay when I taught you as a missionary. I was gay when I gave a talk on hope. I was gay when I graduated from BYU.

At this point, I imagine some people are confused. I've been told that I don't really seem gay (for which I'm grateful). But I am. It's the truth. And believe me, it was not an easy thing for me to accept. I struggle with this daily. It's a battle between what I've always believed about myself, my future, my religion, and my very identity and what I feel on a day-to-day basis. I haven't been able to reconcile the two, and sometimes I think they can't be. Some people can, and for that I applaud them. But as of yet, I haven't figured out how to do that. And I don't know that I will be able to.

I imagine that will upset some people. I'm sorry, it's not my goal to upset you. But if there is any goal to this post, it is one of honesty. I have to let everyone know why I act and behave the way I do. I'm kind of excited that I can finally be at this place of honesty with myself and everyone around me. No longer do I have to hide, pretend, and lie.

So, what can we expect from now on? To be honest, there will be some changes. You might see me share some things on Facebook that you disagree with (welcome to Facebook). I might go on dates with guys and talk about them. I might even post pictures. I might post things that differ from traditional Mormon viewpoints. I might become really invested in social justice and civil rights issues. I might even come out as an Actual Democrat (I may or may not bleed blue).

Here's what I expect from you: love. That is it. Literally, all I expect from you is love. This sounds pretentious, but if you are truly my friends and family, I expect you to love me. The best way for you to show your love is probably by saying something along the lines of "I love you" and giving me a hug. Things that really won't help: telling me to pray about it, talk to a bishop, or go to the temple. If you think I haven't already done those things, you are mistaken. Don't get me wrong: I appreciate advice. But I'm 26. I'm an adult. And adults figure things out for themselves. So, general life advice will be greatly appreciated. Mormon-specific life advice will be less appreciated (and could be ignored altogether) because a) I've heard it all, and b) it hasn't really helped. Really, I'm looking for messages of positivity, things that will lift me up without seeking to correct something wrong at the same time. Let's just keep things happy, okay?

So, that’s it. I’m gay. I will not stop loving each and every one of you. And I hope you feel the same.

Luke

Now, to all of my NH girls: I am so sorry. When I first started working there, you all bore down on my and asked me if I was gay. Heck, some of you even told me that I was gay and that I was in denial. And I told you that I was straight and that you had to trust me on that.

I want to apologize for that. I was not at a place where I could accept that about myself. I felt that if that were true, I couldn't help you like I was supposed to. However, I realize now that my sexuality has no bearing on the good I can do as an individual. And believe it or not, you guys helped me understand that. I learned from you that it's important to love myself as an individual. And while I'm not really to that point, I have at least become okay with that. And for that, I thank all of you.

A Bunch of Freaking Weirdos...

Sometimes, I really just can't deal with Mormons.

For real. They drive me insane. We are such a weird people! We do weird stuff! How many twentysomethings do you know that go to church that aren't Mormon? And of that number, how many of them make it a significant part of their life? Like, talk about it (their religion) all the time? Or think things are really cool?

Maybe that's just the cynic in me. To me, a religion isn't supposed to be cool. It's a belief system, one that is supposed to help you through tough times and explain the answers to questions that you might not know you had. It's supposed to answer the deep questions of your soul, the ones you ask yourself when you really seek to know just who you are.

I guess that could be defined as cool. But I don't see it that way. I never really see the need to talk about what I believe unless someone asks me a specific question. For me, religion is all about the intensely personal relationship I have with my God. That's it: me and Him. I suppose Jesus works His way in there, too. So yeah, a relationship between me, my Savior, and my God. Three beings. That's it. Nobody else needs to be a part of it. Indeed, nobody else SHOULD be a part of it.

[Feel free to skip this part: it's only tangentially related.]

[Random rambling: It is for this reason that I have a hard time with these religious freedom bills that are appearing in statehouses across the nation. In my view, people should not have to feel like extending their business' services to members of the LGBT+ community is committing a sin. If I were in their place, I would not feel like it was a sin to serve other human beings. Christian businesses don't exclude Muslims from services, even though Islam would be wrong from the Christian point of view. Why should sexual identity be any different? It shouldn't. And I would go so far as to say that God really doesn't care if you bake a wedding cake for the gay couple that came into your bakery yesterday morning. He's not going to hold you accountable for the couple's actions, sinful or not. And it's not a sleight on your Christianity to serve other people. Christ served everyone He met. We know He met with publicans and sinners, which meant He was willing to work with people.

Random rambling, cont.: The personal relationship comes into play here. To me, my religion and my personal relationship with my God should not be used to deny people rights. Just because I believe (or don't believe) something to be wrong does not give me the right to prohibit others' civil rights. A quote from my US History textbook guides me to this day: "My right to swing my fist ends where the other man's nose begins." It's this concept of my rights ending as soon as they infringe upon someone else's. So, my right to believe that my religion's way of doing things is the best way ends as soon as that way binds the rights of others' to it.

Random rambling, cont.: To be fair, I don't get to tell people what they believe or how they feel. If they truly feel that baking a gay couple a wedding cake is going to send them (the bakers) to hell, then by all means don't bake a wedding cake. But I would hope that that belief is really and sincerely a belief that guides those bakers' actions. If not, denying service becomes discrimination, and I would hope that we have moved past that sort of behavior as a nation. Who knows, though? Some lessons take awhile to learn.]

So, to be here at BYU where people talk about religion so openly is weird for me. People use their testimonies as evidence in papers that they bring to the Writing Lab. Professors teach about the difference between searching for truth and searching for Truth. People bring up quotes from General Conference as answers to questions in my political science classes.

This sort of behavior strikes me as bizarre. It's just weird to me. I've even taken part in it when professors have specifically asked me to. I don't like to because it doesn't feel scholarly to me, and the whole reason I'm at school is to gain an education. Granted, religion can be a part of that, but we have church on Sunday. And I can't use churchy evidence/logic if I'm going to be proving an academic point to peers who aren't Mormon (spoiler alert: that's MOST of the world).

Finally, there's a sort of arrogance that gets worn among the Mormons, especially here at BYU. I've had a few Elders' Quorums that have fallen prey to arrogance. They all get talking about morals and values, and then the more brash ones make claims on which morals and values are right. But what they don't seem to get is that behind the morals they are bashing (usually using quotes/ideas from general authorities) are people within their own quorum who actually believe that opposing view. I'm one of those people fairly often, and I don't feel like I can safely express an opposing viewpoint in that situation. And so, only one side gets said; and without any apparent opposition, the brash become even more emboldened. They start to believe that they truly are right and must be so because no one disagreed.

That sort of attitude makes Priesthood an exceptionally hard meeting to attend. Granted, I'm not a psychic or an actual Jedi, so I cannot read the thoughts of these so-called "brash ones." Perhaps they are not as bad as I make them out to be because they truly do believe. And maybe I'm just sensitive because I feel singled out for daring to think differently. But still, perceived or not, it's an attitude that I don't like, and there are plenty of Mormons who have it (in Provo and elsewhere).

And that's why I sometimes can't stand Mormons.

Luke