THE MACKINTOSH FAMILY

Theirs may be one of the first family stories you encountered at the LDS-LGBTQ+ intersection when you first leaned in, as the Mackintosh’s video about their son Xian has lived on the LDS church’s website for the past seven years. Becky Mackintosh’s book, Love Boldly: Embracing Your LGBTQ Loved Ones and Embracing Your Faith, may have also been one of the first how-to books you read.  

The church approached the Mackintosh family of Lehi, Utah to film a video showing “the reality of having a gay child in the church—that it’s not all tied up in a bow.” The church asked the Mackintoshes specifically to share their story because they knew Xian was in a relationship, and wanted them to answer the question many LDS families were asking at the time: “How do we respond when our child steps away from the church?” Becky’s answer: “Continue to love and include your child in the family circle.” The video has remained on the Church website since 2017, something Becky says a lot of people still don’t know. Deseret Books also initially solicited Becky and family to chronicle their story in a memoir, though ultimately, and with Deseret Book’s blessing, they went with Cedar Fort Publishing for a more expeditious print run. Deseret Books still carries it in their store (as does Amazon). And Becky and Scott Mackintosh are still frequently invited to speak at firesides. They especially love it when Xian is also invited to speak with them. At these firesides, Becky often invites audiences to pull out their phones and go to the gospel library app and scroll to “life help” where they can find “so much support for unique situations like unwed pregnancies, suicide, SSA, and transgender.” There, people will also find Becky’s face as the thumbnail image for the family videos under “SSA.” Becky says, “The story is still so relevant, so needed. However we may respond when our daughters or sons step away, you must love and include. It’s the only way to keep the family together.” 

This is something the Mackintosh family has learned through experience, and over time. When Xian first sent his parents a private Facebook message on the last night of a Christmas break home, telling them in simple terms that he was gay, his parents’ initial reaction was not all sunshine and rainbows. It took Scott some time to come around to a place of affirming his son. Becky was the one to stay awake and wait for Xian to come home that night from being with friends; the two stayed up until 4am talking about it. But Becky says she was the one who “was suddenly an expert on this topic I knew nothing about” and did most of the talking—trying to convince Xian that since no one else knew, it might not be too late to “nip this in the bud and hold to the rod.” Becky pulled out Xian’s patriarchal blessing, reminding him of the passage in which he was told he’d marry a woman; and she referenced an LDS Living article about a mixed orientation marriage in which the man “experienced SSA but made it work.” Becky implored her son not to go back to the BYU Hawaii campus where he was studying social work and tell anyone, worried he’d be kicked out. Xian reminded her it’s not against the honor code to be gay, only to break the law of chastity. Xian went on to explain that while he had tried to date and kiss and like many girls, he had known his whole life where his attractions lied, and also tried so hard to “get rid of this.” Becky remembers Xian telling her he didn’t know what his future held, but he knew he couldn’t marry a woman or live a life alone. 

With this, Becky thought back to his past. She and Scott had raised their seven kids on a farm they’d lived on for 25+ years. Xian especially loved animals and still does to this day, now the attentive owner of a plethora of pets. Becky says, “Xian was always a happy boy with a big smile on his face. He was a leader, liked by everyone, and had a diverse group of friends as he was able to make friends easily with whoever, wherever. He was always easy to love.” Taught to be faithful, Xian was dedicated to the church and served as both deacon’s and teacher’s quorum president as well as the first assistant to the priests. He served an honorable mission to Detroit, Michigan, and when his parents and sister picked him up there, they loved seeing how much the people loved Xian, and he loved them. While many girls chased Xian over the years and asked him on dates, Becky admits the thought crossed her mind he might be gay as “he was such a good-looking young man, and yet not showing interest in all the girls chasing him.” Becky chalked it up to the fact that Xian was very frugal with money and very studious and maybe just didn’t want a girl to get in the way of his goals to serve a mission and save money. She also admits to thinking at the time that “there’s no way my son would choose to be gay.” 

Xian continued to focus on his studies post-mission. He didn’t come home often between semesters--just at the holidays and for a week in the summer after summer sales stints or his internship to Thailand. When he finally did come out in 2012 to his parents over Christmas break at age 24, it was after years of believing he’d take his secret to the grave, knowing how painful it would be for them. Becky says it makes her so sad to think how terrified he was to tell them because they had said so many hurtful things about the LGBTQ community over the years, believing it was a choice. Xian came out to his six siblings a few months later, and while most of his extended family responded immediately with love, some struggled with his news and created barriers that proved painful with family gatherings. With Deseret Books’ prodding, the first chapter of Becky’s book includes Xian’s story, and the last chapter details Scott’s—how he had to really push himself out of his comfort zone to try to understand his son’s orientation, and how realizing that loving his son was the most important thing and leaving the role of ultimate judge to Christ was what changed everything with their family relationship. 

Shortly after, while they were serving in a BYU student ward bishopric, Becky recalls an eye-opening moment when they had to come to terms with the fact that two of their kids had moved in with their boyfriends—one a son, and one a daughter. The boyfriends were also both from different faiths. Becky thought, “What is happening to our family? We must be horrible parents! This is not how we raised our kids.” Since, they’ve realized a different perspective. 

Becky told Scott that if they didn’t embrace their kids and their partners with open arms, then why would they ever want anything to do with them--or the church? She says, “Who would seek to know more about the gospel if the very people they know who go to church every Sunday are so judgmental and cruel?” Scott concurred. They decided to “embrace their reality” and make concerted efforts so that all their children would feel safe and welcome at home. Becky says, “We didn’t have to preach to them. They already know our beliefs and values. The greatest gift we can give them is our love.” 

Now, Becky says she is so glad her daughter married that boyfriend—they are now expecting their fourth child. Xian eventually split up with that first boyfriend, who the Mackintoshes came to love, making it a hard break-up. But after watching his six older siblings get married, it was finally Xian’s turn to do something his parents had always wanted for all their kids: to marry a returned missionary. They just didn’t know it would be to someone of the same sex. Both Xian and a sister went through divorces, of which Becky says, “Divorce happens in gay and straight marriages. No path is easy, whether it’s in or out of the church. We’re all trying to do the best we can. Our job as parents is just to love and support our kids, and meet them where they are.” 

The Mackintosh clan has grown to 32, with 17 grandchildren and counting. A new baby is due in a month. Becky loves her “very diverse family—with a spectrum of different races, religions, orientations, and political views. But we are a united family of respect and love.” Becky works hard to create a space where her kids know they’re loved, and want to come home and be around her. She says, “I’m not sure what the future holds, but that’s our lived experience. At the end of the day, they’re there for each other. I couldn’t ask for more to make me feel successful as a parent.” 

After Xian came out, Becky says she dove into the scriptures and was comforted to be reminded there “are no perfect families, even in the scriptures.” She learned to focus on what she could control, which was how she responded to any given situation. And the answer she always got through prayer was to love and include. She remembers praying, “But he’s dating a boy!” and hearing in return, “Love and include.” She feels it’s this practice that helped set the tone for Xian’s wedding, a lovely ceremony all his siblings and friends attended, sincerely happy for him. She also feels this approach helped Xian feel he could rely on his family when his marriage later began to crumble. Becky feels, “If we had chosen not to go to the wedding to ‘stand for truth and righteousness and not condone,’ he might have not informed us of his later relationship problems.” 

Xian owns a home in North Salt Lake, where he manages his businesses of vending cold plunge freezers and breeding Long-haired French Bulldogs. Given his rigorous work ethic, he financed his college education independently and emerged debt-free, holding a master’s degree in social work from the University of Hawaii.  

Not all of Becky and Scott’s kids are active in the church, and she says once upon a time, she would have been “curled up crying thinking, ‘what happened to my eternal family’.” But now she says, “As I’ve laid things at the Savior’s feet, all I can’t control, that’s when peace comes to my heart. My job is just to love them where they are and trust God with the process.” The Mackintoshes try to maintain a respect for the diversity of choices in their family. Becky’s kids support her serving in the Saratoga Springs temple weekly, and she says she’s never felt pressure from them to choose between the church and her children. That being said, she believes if she were to reject her child, she would not be living the gospel which has taught her the two great commandments—to love God and love others. 

For many years, Becky and Scott have been involved at North Star, and they’ve joined Xian to be the keynote speakers at Affirmation. In 2020, when Scott and Becky were the keynote speakers at North Star, they were surprised to learn it had been arranged that Xian would be the one to introduce them—a touching moment, especially as Xian was married to his husband at the time and still invited in by the more church policy-adherent group. They felt the love of their son in his introductory words.  

The Mackintoshes, most of whom still live in Utah, gather for family dinner the third Sunday of every month. Xian always joins and doesn’t hesitate when asked to give the prayer. It meant a lot to him when one of his nephews also asked him to pray at his LDS baptism. Xian has given his parents his blessing in sharing their side of the story as he believes it will help a lot of families experiencing similar things. He is also willing to share his, which he will soon do in this same forum. Xian also challenges his parents to look at all sides of the issue. When he first came out, he implored his mom to read Carol Lynn Pearson’s, No More Goodbyes, which she was reluctant to finish because the book opened with anecdotes of LDS families kicking out their children after they came out, which she couldn’t fathom, then followed with tales of entire families leaving the church, feeling they had to choose between their child and their church. She knew neither was an option for her, and she never felt she was being asked to choose a side. With Xian’s encouragement to finish the book, she did and that is when Becky felt the confirmation to come out of her own proverbial closet and openly share her story as an LDS mother openly embracing her son and her religious faith. This was two years after Xian’s initial coming out.

With their new desire to openly share their story, Becky’s film school graduate daughter shot a video in which Becky and Xian shared their story and Becky encouraged viewers to invest in kindness. Having served in ward and stake leadership roles for decades, Becky wasn’t sure how leadership would react, so she made an appointment with her bishop and stake president to let them view the video and read the blog post that was about to go live. They responded she was brave and they appreciated her intent. There were hundreds of shares and comments when the video got posted on social media, and Becky was overwhelmed by how many recently returned missionaries related to what Xian had been experiencing and had also felt so alone. Feeling driven to do more, the Mackintoshes have since hosted parent support groups and a bimonthly LGBTQ FHE night for the past nine years, and tried to create safe spaces whenever and wherever nudged.  

As for being a public figure in this space, Becky doesn’t want anyone to think the emotions expressed in their six-minute video of going from “My son is gay!” to “One big happy family” are in real time, for it took time. But her book was written “to relate to parents who are really struggling to embrace both their child and the gospel.” Becky owns up to their wedges, and the positives. “It’s been a diversity of feelings, and not an easy journey, but one I am so grateful for. I’ve learned to lean in to love, show empathy and respect, and look for ways to strengthen our relationship. I couldn’t do it without the guidance of God and our Savior.” She continues, “I’m so grateful for this journey. I can’t imagine my life without all the beautiful people I’ve met along the way. I’m so glad God sent me a son who’s gay (and six other perfectly imperfect children) – it’s completely opened my perspective.” 

LUPE BARTHOLOMEW

Lupe Bartholomew and her son David Archuleta

“If I have to live without you 

I don’t want to live forever 

In someone else's heaven 

So let 'em close the gates” 

They are lines many parents in this space understand. For Lupe Bartholomew, they are the lyrics she inspired in her son David Archuleta’s new single, “Hell Together.” Once Lupe realized the depth of pain her son was experiencing at the crux of his faith transition, she made it clear she would navigate this road with him in words that resonate with many listeners:

“If they don't like the way you're made 

Then they're not any better 

If paradise is pressure 

Oh, we'll go to Hell together”

However, this was not the initial response Lupe offered when David first came out as queer. Having had little known interaction with the LGBTQ+ community until the moment her son shared his news with her on a phone call at age 29, (after three failed engagements with women and years of trying to make the LDS church’s teachings work), Lupe admits it took her time to get to a place of understanding and affirmation. She is now intentional about sharing her side of the story of her recent decision to step away from the church in solidarity of her son and her newfound understanding, so that she might sit with others. In this space, she recognizes many might echo the lyric, “I'm afraid of letting go of the version of me that I used to know.”

That version grew up in Honduras, the youngest of four daughters born to loving parents who worked hard to provide a happy home amidst widespread poverty. Lupe and her sisters loved to sing. After some missionaries introduced their mom to the LDS faith and they were baptized, the Mayorga girls would often don matching dresses and sing at new members’ baptisms and other services, taking their show on the road. At a young age, Lupe was also an accomplished basketball player and champion free throw shooter on Honduras’ national team. When she was 15, her father’s job allowed the family to move to Miami, where the girls continued their missionary efforts, singing at baptisms and church events.

While in Florida, Lupe met a man from church. At the time, she didn’t attend much as she was working long shifts as a caregiver to help her family pay the bills. But as she became more involved with the young man, she also increased her involvement with the church. The two eventually took a bus to Salt Lake City to get married in the temple, then right back to Florida, where four of their five kids were born. There was a sixth child, but Lupe’s third pregnancy resulted in a full-term stillbirth, which devastated her. But with two young toddlers at home, she had no choice but to keep living, not wanting them to “see me crying in my bedroom all the time.” 

The Archuletas traded the sun for the snow when Lupe’s then husband felt Utah would be a better place to raise the kids, surrounded by the influence of the church. They moved west to Bountiful and then Murray, UT, where they could walk to church instead of driving 30 minutes as they had in Florida. Lupe says they loved being surrounded by temples and the church culture. Having always wanted eight kids, Lupe especially loved the supportive environment for men to work and women to stay home with the children. When they were little, Lupe loved homeschooling and taught all of their kids to read by age four. As the children also inherited their mother’s pipes, music filled their home as she taught them to sing. Lupe admits she didn’t love to cook or bake, so instead they would treat their neighbors with Christmas carols at the holidays, and often go sing to residents of senior living facilities. 

David was just 16 when he appeared on American Idol. Though he had won Star Search at age 12, this newfound fame was “exciting, but so unexpected.” Lupe continues, “I had trained my kids to sing for fun, not to be famous… And David had always been so shy.” While the fame was “cool” at first, it quickly became overwhelming for Lupe as it affected the family’s privacy with people taking pictures of their house, randomly knocking on their door, and leaving presents. When people at church would ask, “How’s your son?” Lupe would think, “Which one? I have two?” She recalls, “The rest of us kind of became invisible.” 

Once American Idol launched David’s career, Lupe says he never really came home full-time after that, nor experienced the childhood many other teens get to. His father handled most of the travel with David, while Lupe stayed home with their other kids. And the rest of the world watched as David took bold actions that affirmed his faith—he served a mission in South America. After he returned, Lupe says, “I saw David praying the gay away—he was so righteous. I thought he’d be a general authority or something, he was so obedient and dedicated. He’d stay in a white shirt and tie on Sundays, listening to conference talks. And he was put on a pedestal by the church, like a posterchild.”

Lupe and her first husband divorced, yet she remained devoted to visiting the temple every week for guidance. It was there while praying that God would send someone who understood her needs that a name clearly entered her mind: “Dave.” The next day, she felt a strong presence of love in her living room so overwhelming she started crying. She now wonders if that might have been a spiritual force nudging the union. Although they’d only been out a few times, Dave Bartholomew turned out to be the man she would marry, and later get sealed to in the Salt Lake City temple. With their blended family, they now enjoy time with nine children and 18 grandkids whom Lupe cherishes, saying, “The love I feel for them is so strong it hurts sometimes.” Lupe and Dave have been happily married for ten years, and she now sees how he’s the perfect person for her in all the ways as they have navigated this road together. She has watched some friends’ husbands leave them after calling them “apostates” when they underwent faith transitions, and she appreciates how Dave has stuck by her side.

When Lupe’s son David first called to tell her he was gay, she expressed how his family will always love him and be there for him. But as Lupe had recently increased her own activity in the church after being disappointed several of her family members had pulled away, she was in a place of determination to be the strong one, the example, the one to “gather my eternal family.” When her daughters stopped attending, she appreciates how they supported her still going but scoffed when one day her daughter said, “Have fun” as Lupe made her way out the door to church. Lupe thought, “I’m not going there to have fun! I’m going there to work and save others!” Resolved to keeping one foot in the door with the church and the other with her family, Lupe reasoned she could still love her child no matter what while also believing all the teachings of her faith. This resulted in several challenging conversations with her son as she tried to convince him to backpedal his announcement. She says, “I was struggling with it because in my mind, we needed to obey the prophet, and what the prophet says, goes. And I reminded him how the youth of the church look up to him and how was that going to work?... I worried all these kids would lose their testimonies, and was concerned for the youth if David stepped away and came out as gay.” 

Lupe says she encouraged him to try to work through things and figure out how to keep up with the thousands of people he’d been an example to. She recalls how when visiting home, he’d join her for church at her request, but eventually he expressed it was too painful to keep trying to show up. Around this time, Lupe started to notice things—how when she looked around her ward congregation, she did not see LGBTQ+ people in the crowd. While she had never been interested in delving into church history before, she learned some information that troubled her. While she had been planning to become a temple worker, she started to wonder how honestly she could answer some of the questions anymore as she deconstructed her faith.

And then David’s article in People magazine came out, which opened Lupe’s eyes to realize just how much her son was struggling “having been hurt so much, trying to take his life away, feeling it better to be dead than not be a good example or sinner.” The article that came out on November 1, 2022 shook Lupe, and on November 5 she wrote her bishop after having agreed to say prayers in sacrament meeting along with her husband, but now realizing she couldn’t do it emotionally (although she had always loved praying). She expressed:

“I’m writing this email with tears in my eyes because it hurts so much to make this decision… After careful thought, ponder and praying, we have decided that we’re going to step away from this lovely church and take a break. My family and I have worked so hard on callings, three of our kids served honorable missions and gave everything they had to preach the gospel to others. The reason why we need to take a moment away is because our wounded hearts need some time to heal from knowing not everyone is welcome in this church.”

Lupe’s letter continued to mention how church leadership at the highest level had made some off-putting comments to David that he found dismissive. She also included an excerpt from his interview with People magazine: "For my own mental health, I can't keep putting myself in a place where it's so conflicting where they say, ‘We love you so much, but at the same time, you must change who you are. Oh, you can't? Then we are going to ignore this problem’."

Lupe told her bishop, “It’s hard for us to believe that a loving Heavenly Father doesn’t welcome my son and others like him in this church if it feels to us they don’t fit the profile God's gospel needs to fit: rich and poor, white skin, dark skin, gays, lesbians, all need to be welcome. There are many of them who are beautiful and talented in the eyes of God, but they are not ‘worthy’ like we are.” Lupe then shared the parable in Matthew of the 99 sheep and how Christ always ministered to the one who “went astray.” The Bartholomew’s bishop replied respectfully, letting Lupe and Dave know they were needed and would be missed, but he respected their choice.

Since, Lupe has said her South Jordan, UT community still smiles and waves, yet respects their space and does not pressure them to attend church. Lupe loves teaching voice lessons at the Lupe Bartholomew Vocal Studio, spending time with her husband, and full time grand-motherhood. She tried to attend another church in Draper, but found they had similar views on LGBTQ and concluded, “If everyone is going to be talking about how LGBTQ don’t belong in the church, I don’t want religion in my life. I just want to love my family and move on.” In her deconstruction, she has learned how the Bible was mistranslated in some parts to conflate homosexuality with child abusers and says, “The poor LGBTQ community has been criticized for a misunderstanding. Now that I know LGBTQ people are the most wonderful, caring, fragile, loving and beautiful people, it breaks my heart. David hasn’t changed, he’s always been the same sweet spirit I raised. I know there’s a God and these kids are going to keep coming, like it or not. I now have talks with my nine-year-old grandchild about how these people need to be loved, not bullied. As parents, we need to train our next generation to be more loving.”

Lupe was touched when she received a box of supportive letters from the Mama Dragons after David came out. Together, they went through them and were moved by the outpouring of love. Lupe has enjoyed finding a new community of like-minded mothers who love their kids and prioritize their mental health above all else. Having been on both sides, she says she now sees and understands a variety of perspectives: the faithful side and the ex-Mormon community who often get criticized or called lazy learners or apostates. But Lupe says, “If you’ve never gone through a faith transition, you never know how hard it is. It’s not like you wake up one day and think ok, I want a different life! I’m still the same person. I used to be critical; now I’m not. I read stories of people not talking to their family because they left church. We don’t do that; we still need to be a family, united.”

Of inspiring David’s new song, “Hell Together,” Lupe recalls how David once told her, “When I sang the hymns for the church and did all the things for the church, I meant it.” She says, “I knew my child was not below me because I was staying in a church, so sarcastically, I said, ‘David if you’re going to hell, we’re all going with you.’ I can’t picture my kids in a lower place than me. How can I be higher than them? So I said, ‘We’re walking out with grace.’ That song made me cry when I heard it. He couldn’t have written a more perfect song to describe it. There’s no way I’ll be in a higher glory than my child. He did nothing wrong but shared that he was gay and wants to live an honest life. And he’s ready to move on, and now everyone knows.” 

THE WRIGHT FAMILY

For the Wright family of St. George, Utah, last year was a magical time of dancing and dining amidst twinkling lights with two family weddings.  On September 8, Jancee and Jeff Wright’s oldest daughter, Tylee, married her favorite cowboy, Nate, under the stars on a friend’s ranch in Arizona with a backdrop of vermillion mountains. Nate wore his cowboy hat, there was lots of line dancing and a couple’s first dance to Chris Ledoux’s “Look at You, Girl,” and loads of laughter when, after Tylee’s grandfather pronounced them husband and wife and Nate leaned in for a kiss, he tripped on Tylee’s veil and “it looked like Nate was riding a bull,” laughs Jancee, as the couple fell down together, Nate’s hat dramatically landing in Jeff’s lap in the front row. The candy bar the couple requested at the reception was emblematic of “their sweet hearts and light-hearted personalities,“ says Jancee, who still glows when talking about it. 

A few months later, on December 30, many of the same partygoers donned black tie and traveled to Sandy, UT for the nuptials of the Wright’s oldest son, Jayden, to his fiancé, Connor, at Le Jardin greenhouse. The lush green plants alit in white lights, Connor’s dad married the couple in a “classy, beautiful and perfect” ceremony, before a crowd of 500 joined in at the reception to toast the couple with bottles of Martinelli’s placed on the tables.  Guests also enjoyed snacking on the grooms’ favorites: Chic-fil-a nuggets, cinnamon rolls, chips, and a soda and lemonade bar. The youngest of five kids who are all married with kids of their own, Connor’s locally-based family also turned up in masses, and the room was full of well-dressed partygoers offering their exuberant love and support. Jayden’s newlywed sister, Tylee, produced their wedding video, and Jayden and Connor’s wedding photos were taken in the mountains, their dark, dapper suits a contrast to the white fallen snow. 

“There was so much love at both weddings.  And I felt the Savior smack dab in the middle of it all,“ says Jancee of her kids’ unions. (cont’d in comments)

She planned and partied and posted about each wedding the exact same way, and loved how “there were the exact same feelings of joy and support and each event.”  She was especially touched by the turnout to Jayden’s event by their lifelong friends, relatives, and church leaders--including bishops, stake presidents and a temple president. It was important to the families that all could attend and witness the legal pronouncement and exchange of rings and vows at each event, so the families elected for civil ceremonies, and Nate and Tylee chose to get sealed in the temple the day after their civil ceremony. While Jayden and Connor are both returned missionaries who still attend church in an LDS ward that largely supports them, this is not an option provided to them. 

Jayden and Connor met on a dating app and talked for four months before meeting face-to face.  After so many weeks of FaceTime after work, by the time they said hello in person, they hit it off immediately. Jancee says, “I feel like they’re the same person; they're so compatible in their goals and beliefs. I love Connor so much, it makes me tear up. He’s such a good guy.”  As the youngest in his family, Connor came out to his older sister-in-law first, knowing as a practicing therapist she’d likely be supportive. She was, and encouraged him to come out to his parents and siblings who were all active in the LDS church, with his father having served as a bishop.  Connor was a 14-year-old ninth grader at the time and Jancee credits his family’s support and his own inherent sense of worth as lending to Connor’s sense of confidence at such a young age. “He knows he’s a son of God, he loves himself, and I love this because it doesn't matter what anyone else says or thinks--he knows who he is.” 

Connor is now working to get his master’s to become an MFT, so he can help clients who are members of the LDS faith also navigate coming out. Currently, he works with CPS in Ogden, helping with difficult situations of emergency child and foster placement.

After graduating from Southern Utah University with his bachelor's degree, Jayden took a job working in administration for a national surgical company in Ogden, to be closer to Connor.  Together, the two love to travel, and have the budding photo wall to prove it. They got engaged in New York City, where they proposed to each other, and just returned from a trip to Fiji with Connor’s family in November. “Connor is very adventurous, which has been exactly what Jayden loves,” says Jancee. “They have many great adventures planned.” 

The revelation of Jayden’s orientation leaked back in high school, in an interchange Jancee now regrets, due to her initial reaction. Jayden was a multi-talented high school senior at the time- a triple threat with his acting, singing, and skills on the piano. He was a lead character in the school production of Aida, and happened to be the only child home one night with his mom when Jancee received a text in a thread that she was mistakenly included in. One of Jayden’s friends texted, “I’m gay.” Jayden responded, “I think I’m gay, too.” Jancee’s stomach dropped reading the words. In shock, she charged toward Jayden’s room, shaking, and showed him the message. “You are not gay, this is crazy! Why are you guys saying this?” she exclaimed, allowing fear to drive her emotions. They both started sobbing. Jancee recalls Jayden was vague and he followed her lead, denying his truth. He agreed to talk to his bishop about it, (even though he had not acted on it or done anything considered wrong), Jancee confirmed that was a good idea, and never brought it up again, even to her husband.  

Shortly after, Jayden attended a year of college, then left for a two-year mission to Milan, Italy.  He loved this experience and served honorably and returned ready for the next stage of life.  A month after his mission homecoming, he came to his mom seeking guidance and had her connect him with a life coach from her professional peer group (Jancee is an organizational life coach expert).

Contrary to Jayden’s expectations that serving a mission would “make this go away,” the coach encouraged Jayden to acknowledge what he’d been hiding and fighting--it was perhaps time for him to accept it in order to progress. 

Soon after, Jayden called his parents and asked if they could have the house to themselves one night because he needed to tell them something important. Jancee says the spirit told her,  “He’s going to tell you he is gay.” She called Jeff, a physician assistant, at work and shared this prompting and asked him to prepare for the moment. Jeff agreed and comforted Jancee, who was in shock. But this time, as she approached her prayer bench in her closet, she also felt a calm peace--a much different emotion than she had the night of the misdirected text many years ago. Honoring Jayden’s wishes, Jancee canceled a house guest they’d agreed to host and made sure Jayden’s two sisters and brother wouldn’t be home--unaware Jayden had already told all of them his news.  

Jayden arrived and came into his parents’ room. He had prepared for this, and first wanted to share a song with them, Matthew West’s “ Truth Be Told.” Then he fell apart crying.  He couldn’t say it. Jancee approached her then 22-year-old son, buckled over on the ground, and put her arm around him and said, “Jayden, I know what you’re going to say and it’s okay to say it.” Jayden whispered back, “I’m gay.” Jeff also met their son on the ground in an emotional embrace. Jancee recalls, “The spirit was so strong. It was a really beautiful moment and all we felt was love. Such a different feeling from that first time which was based completely off of fear.” 

Any perceived notions she’d ever had of orientation being a choice or something one could change were gone. Jancee says, “I trusted him. I believed him. And I changed in the blink of an eye.” Jeff also supported his son, though it was a growth journey for all. Both parents were broken-hearted when Jayden told them that he had worried when he was younger, they would kick him out if he told them about this part of him–something they could never imagine doing.

During the first year after finding out, Jancee also sought support of her own. While scrolling through a list of 300 potential life coaches, she landed on the name “Jenie Hunter,” not knowing Jenie’s own son was gay and that she was involved in Lift & Love. Jancee credits such moments as miracles: “God knew I needed Jenie. God loves Jayden, me, Connor and our families. God is just good, and has been present every step of the way.” 

People now frequently ask Jancee how she can stay in the church and support her gay son, to which she replies, “I’ve come to a place where I just recognize the Savior in this whole journey; I’ve written down countless miracles that have happened. The Savior is not behind me, or in front of me, but smack in the middle with me. I’ve seen Him everywhere. As I’ve held onto that and let Him guide me and felt His spirit in this, I want to create a safe space for others coming behind me.” Jancee now gets a call from a worried mom almost weekly, especially since Jayden has gotten married, and she loves providing that safe, comforting place.  She wears a rainbow ring and makes herself available to leaders seeking to understand their journey.  She says, “I know church doesn’t work for everyone; there is so much hurt and pain and you have to choose what serves you best. If you stay or leave we all have our own journey. For me, I choose to stay, but I also know I have a great responsibility to be a voice and a safe place for those coming behind me. I have been able to come to this place only through my Savior, Jesus Christ.” 

When Jayden and Connor even more frequently get asked why they still attend sacrament meetings in an Ogden ward where they’ve now bought a home, they say, “It’s because of the Savior. That’s why we attend each week.” Jancee says, “It’s hard, but that’s been their journey.” When people ask Jancee if her two married children’s unions look or feel any different, Jancee replies, “I’ve loved my kids' spouses long before I knew who they were.

I decided a long time ago that it didn’t matter who they were, I already loved who they would choose.  I trust my kids--this has been a beautiful gift and blessing in my life to decide this long before it happened.” 

Jancee’s scriptural lifeline has been Proverbs 3:5-6, and she recalls many years being on her knees in her closet asking how to navigate her family path with the church, and reflecting on the words: “Trust in the Lord and lean not unto thine own understanding.” Jancee says, “There’s a reason God keeps making children come to earth who are gay. I don’t know why, but God does-- I just get to trust Him. It’s just who they are, and my only job is to Love BIG!”

MICHAEL NIEMANN

Michael Niemann, 26, had just left a blissful week at Lake Powell, enjoying time with friends off the grid, when his phone blew up. Now that he had reception again, he quickly picked up on the fact he had missed something big. It was August of 2021, and messages of “Are you okay?” and “Here for you” poured in. He wondered what had happened. He quickly pieced together that a talk by an apostle had been given to BYU administration and faculty that was uncharacteristically hurtful as Elder Holland had encouraged figurative “musket fire” to be taken up against those who advocated for their LGBTQ loved ones. The talk had hit hard for many on campus and beyond, and this was a painful time for many LGBTQ individuals and their families trying to decipher whether they could still make the church work.

On BYU campus, an impromptu path of sidewalk-chalked, rainbow hued messages of love and support had been created by a multitude of students nightly. As Michael caught up on all he’d missed, one storyline, in particular, shocked him. A BYU student had arrived one night at the rainbow row and squirted a water bottle on the messages of love and hurled offensive accusations including the f-slur toward the LGBTQ population. It had been caught on camera and gone viral, even making headline news. Michael’s heart dropped when he saw that the young man on camera was his neighbor, and in fact, his assigned minister in his LDS student ward.

Michael is known among his friends and family for his bright smile, his effervescent energy, his kind, upbeat demeanor. But this hurt. While everything in him wanted to retreat, he still felt a pull that he needed to check on this neighbor. And he did. He called him up and offered to bring over a Brick Oven pizza. The neighbor acquiesced. Michael entered a space that felt dark and lonely, and found his neighbor in a very dark and lonely headspace. He had understandably been ostracized by many, and was in hiding and facing expulsion from the university for his behavior. While Michael definitely understood the anger many were feeling against the young man, he says a different impression overpowered him--the image of Christ on the cross offering up compassionate words for the accused who hung on either side of Him: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

In that profound moment, Michael felt an immense love enter his heart, as he saw his neighbor as a fellow hurting, broken soul. Michael says this love he felt was limitless, and fueled from an outside, spiritual source. “There was no part of me that questioned if I was loving too much, by not condemning his behavior.” He sensed the student had not had many personal interactions with gay people, and indeed, the neighbor confirmed that he thought he had only been doing what was right, and what he had been taught. When Michael sensed the dark frame of mind of his neighbor as he awaited Friday’s hearing to determine whether he’d be expelled from the university, Michael left with the impression to continue to check on him that week. He did, every day. When Friday came, the student found out he was suspended, and prepared to leave campus. As he did, Michael went over for one final face-to-face, during which he finally asked his neighbor a question: if he had known that he (Michael) was gay. The neighbor seemed surprised and said no, he hadn’t. He then apologized for what he’d done, for everything.

The two still remain in touch today.

Michael tries to live by the Marianne Williamson quote, “The way of the miracle-worker is to see all human behavior as one of two things: either love, or a call for love.” Obviously, Michael is exceptionally capable of realizing the depths and breadth of that statement. And he has taken his gifts to the public, as one of the original creators of Provo’s Treehouse Talks speaking forum, which is now spreading to other college campuses. Along with his close friends Hollis and Mio, who he credits for being the best of friends and instrumentally supportive to him in every way, the trio started the Treehouse events to lend a microphone to young adults to share the stories and experiences that make them uniquely them. The 9pm bi-weekly gatherings are popular, bustling with diverse crowds who equally embrace diversity and the bonds that come through sharing vulnerable experiences.

Michael, a graduate of BYU’s Masters in Information Systems program who now works for a Dublin, Ireland-based software company, is fascinated by people, and has always enjoyed a wide circle of friends. It took him some time to understand his sexuality as in high school, he mostly enjoyed hanging out with large groups of friends. He dated a girl for seven months as a freshman and was much more worried about whether he was “breaking the rules” dating at the age of 14 than the fact that he wasn’t feeling a strong physical attraction to a girl. He’s always preferred the company of male friends, which never crossed any lines into romantic connections, but as his preference for hanging out with guys continued into his mission, he started to wonder about his attractions. He says he’d hear people joke that with your mission goggles on, your high standards of attraction decrease until the point that you might even find your companion attractive. But for him, he started to wonder, as around this time, as he realized he didn’t find girls appealing in that way. He credits an extremely astute, compassionate mission president as being the first person he came out to when he asked him, “President, what would you say to someone who’s gay?” The President responded, “I’d let them know I still love them and I know God loves them… Elder Niemann, is this you?” Michael says his president offered him meetings with a mission psychologist but never asked insensitive questions or offered any forms of disrespect. This is something Michael really appreciates, and says lent to him not feeling anger or hatred toward people in the church.

After Michael returned home, he tried to date girls, but there was no romantic desire. As three relationships lasted long enough where there should have been one, he ultimately felt it wasn’t fair for them to be partnered with someone who had to fake attraction. These realizations forced Michael to ask tougher questions about how who he was fit into God’s plan, and whether or not God knew and loved him for who he was. He became very deliberate about prayer and scripture reading. Then when Covid hit and in-person church stopped, Michael says it felt like a breath of fresh air in which he could step back and not have to try so hard. That period of reevaluation became the “darkest period of (his) life” as he questioned whether his life had a purpose and was worth continuing. He realized he needed to be more authentic with his struggles, which brought a lot of healing. At this time, he turned to his friends Hollis and Mio and threw himself into the Treehouse Talk endeavor. By connecting deeply with others, he realized his life would be best lived if he connected authentically with himself.

For Michael, attraction is more of a cerebral thing. When someone asks who is his celebrity crush or who he finds “hot,” he responds, “Let me meet them first, then I’ll know more.”

Michael now dates men, and considers himself a spiritual person who wholly believes in compassion and trying to be Christlike, but who has a lot of questions about the church. On October 11 of 2021, he decided to share his thoughts with friends who had been asking, and his own words best convey the conflict so many in this space feel:

“Today is National Coming Out Day and has been the cause of reflection on my journey. Nothing has challenged my self-worth more than being a gay member of the church.

When I first began the journey of coming out to myself as gay, it started as a personal investigation on my attractions and what the church said about it. Being a member of the church added additional layers of complexity to coming out as gay.

I would read things emphasizing that homosexuality was a sin and comparable to murder. It was a perversion of agency, unnatural and disgusting. But it was also curable. As an impressionable 19-year-old, I absorbed all of this.

With the understanding that I could ‘control’ or change my ‘perversions,’ I made every effort to fix my sexuality. When this did not work, I began to detest myself for my wickedness and inability to overcome my sin. I woke up each morning disgusted with myself. I hated myself more than I have ever hated another person. Suicide became more appealing than being gay and alive. I desperately wanted to escape my sin and what it meant to be gay. I felt very alone during this time and despised my friends who were enjoying dating.

During my journey of coming out, the church continued to convey mixed messages. I was told that I belonged but not to label myself as gay. I was told that I was loved and that God had a plan for me, yet leaders and members made homophobic comments and God’s plan for happiness only involved heterosexual partnerships. Today, any statements around God’s plan and love for his children (even gay-affirming statements) are triggering because the repeated incongruity leaves me unsure about ‘real messages’ and how God honestly feels about me (and every time I say this people instinctively want to confirm that God loves me, adding to the mix of messages). It is really hard to feel peace, love or joy in this environment.

Today, the church has come a long way in emphasizing respectful language (though I do believe there is a lot of ground to cover when it comes to empathy and understanding). Often, I feel like the church talks ABOUT LGBTQ+ members but not TO LQBTQ+ members. I feel like I have been hurt by the church and the church has not apologized or even acknowledged its history of hurtful messages. It leaves me wondering if the church cares about me.

While a lot of healing has occurred, today I cry for the heaviness and darkness of this experience. I cry for the boy who fought daily to be someone else in order to be accepted and loved. But mostly I cry for a boy who struggled to understand his value and self worth, but had no reason to do so.”

It is this well from which Michael must have drawn on that day in August of 2021 when he was able to see past his neighbor’s hurtful actions to the hurting soul within that drove them. Some may still ask, how did he do it? How did he forgive—and love—so easily? Michael says that in that space, he saw two hurting souls sitting in the same room. Through his own past experiences in therapy, Michael had committed to wanting to stay in a place where he can take care of himself emotionally so he would never have to take out his feelings on others.

Michael sees humankind as people who are all touching a different part of an elephant—one may touch the ear, and call it a leaf. One may hold on to the tusk and call it a spear. For some, the tail may feel like a rope. Michael acknowledges people can touch the same thing, but have very different experiences, and challenges all to zoom out and find the bigger picture and recognize that various people’s experiences regarding a situation may be true.

Reflecting back on that dark night in Provo when two troubled souls connected at a time of hurt for many, it was feeling the immense love that God had for Michael’s neighbor who had wronged him that Michael was able to finally recognize the love that God also had for him. Michael felt it, and it was incomprehensible, just as his story of compassion has been for many who have heard it. It’s a story of love that can only be defined as a miracle.

THE ROWELL FAMILY

To this day, it’s still hard for Penny Rowell to talk about without emotions resurfacing. It’s been almost a decade since her son Trevor, now 27, first came out to his parents, but he only felt safe coming out publicly in the past couple years. While his parents are so proud of him and optimistic for Trevor’s future, sometimes they wish they could go back and get a redo. To rewind and shield him from so many painful things heard at church. A decade ago, many in their circle – including Todd and Penny – were operating off limited understanding about what it means to be gay. But now, they are grateful for the plethora of resources available, and thus choose to be one themselves through sharing their story. 

When Trevor was about 18, Penny recalls sitting in a sacrament meeting when abruptly, her husband Todd got up with Trevor and left her and their other three boys (Brandon – now 25 and married to Kieryae, Tyler – 22, and Nathan – 18) behind. Penny texted her husband: “What’s going on?” Shortly after, Todd replied she needed to come home. Trevor was due to receive the Melchizedek priesthood in preparation for serving a mission, but something was weighing heavy on him. Penny and Todd don’t recall their oldest child ever saying, “I’m gay,” but that day was the first time he opened up to his parents and shared he had an attraction to guys. 

Because of what she’d been raised to believe in a predominately LDS culture, Penny says they replied with support but also thought this was something they could “work through” as a family and made an appointment for Trevor to meet with the bishop. Trevor talked with 3 different bishops as well as his mission president over the years, and the advice was always the same. That if he said his prayers, read scriptures, conference talks, remained faithful through his mission, everything would be okay – in fact, this could even go away. Trevor’s mission president even suggested that when he came home from his mission that he should marry a woman right away, and not delay. After meeting with a BYU bishop, Trevor himself had to point the bishop to the church’s mormonandgay.org website of the time and implore him to stop telling other gay kids errant information – that reading a conference talk would not offer a magic cure for changing one’s orientation.  

 Trevor served a mission to Fortaleza, Brazil. But of course, nothing changed about his orientation, and Penny now says they feel stupid for ever thinking that might be a possibility. Trevor came home and resumed his schooling at BYU, where the climate endorsed his notion to keep his sexuality under wraps until that diploma was in hand. The weight of the secrecy bore on his parents, who together realized how much worse must be the burden their son carried, having to keep such a huge part of himself secret. Penny remembers driving Trevor to work one day, after he returned from his mission and him just breaking down. Later, he opened up that on that day in the car, he realized he could never marry a girl – he could never do that to someone. And he no longer wanted to give his parents any false hope. He was gay. 

 While BYU was a difficult place to be for Trevor and he often contemplated transferring to another university that would be better for his mental health, he stayed to complete his studies in graphic design. He loved the program there and felt more comfortable in that environment, with those teachers and people, than any other time at BYU. While in Provo, he received counseling at BYU and at Flourish therapy. (He decided to start therapy after meeting with that BYU bishop.) Penny said she started to see a weight being lifted a bit when he started going. Trevor says that going to therapy is what finally started to change things for him. He graduated in April of 2020, and the lack of the closure of a graduation ceremony during the pandemic felt like yet another defeat. But once Trevor finally received that diploma in the mail (that was unfortunately delayed through a shipping error), he was finally ready to come out publicly. And so were his parents. 

Along the way, through the quiet years, Penny felt guided and buoyed by support resources that would show up in just the right time and just the right way. Penny remembers one late night when she was lamenting the pain her son was experiencing. She got up from bed and went into her (literal) closet where she stumbled on Becky Mackintosh’s video on the lds.org site. She went to Facebook and happened to connect immediately with Becky.  Later, Becky and her husband both became great confidantes and mentors for Penny and Todd. Penny also found a great lifeline through the Facebook group I’ll Walk With You. Not only did she cherish meeting like minds who got her family, but she feels she’s benefited from learning about other identities in the LGBTQ space as others share their experiences. 

Penny now feels it’s vital that more training is offered in the church, as such a huge population of LDS members identify as LGBTQ. She says, “It’s a crapshoot of what kids will hear. And you’re playing with their mental health. I think all bishops, youth leaders, and seminary teachers should undergo necessary training so they’ll stop saying things that might give our kids a reason to not want to be here anymore.” In her own corner of the world in Liberty Lake, WA, Penny works to be a visual ally by hanging a Pride flag at her house so others know she offers an open heart and listening ear. Something her family needed. Todd also hangs a rainbow-themed “All are welcome here” sign in his high school AP history and government classroom to let his students know he is a safe space. They both encourage other LGBTQ parents to just love their kids, and draw boundaries if and when necessary with others to maintain a healthy support system for their kids. 

Trevor is no longer affiliated with the church, which Penny says, “I’m 1000% okay with because I know it’s not a safe place for him. He’s now able to be comfortable with who he is. When you hear your kid say they grew up feeling like they’d rather have a terminal disease than be gay, you know there’s something wrong there. I hate that we subjected him (unknowingly) to that.” 

Trevor is now living his best life as a graphic designer in Seattle, working from home, hanging out with friends, going to museums, and dating.  Penny is eager for him to find the love of his life, just as she hopes for all her kids, (and maybe, if not more for Trevor). She hopes that one day, he “has a family, happiness, success in his job, feels loved and cherished, makes a difference, and most of all she hopes for him to feel healed – not from being gay but from the hurt and pain caused by those who don’t accept that. I don’t want him to carry this stuff with him forever. I’d much rather my son be here (on earth) and in a happy relationship and feel love than alone in the church.” 

Of the new perspective Penny has gained since her oldest son came out, she says one pivotal realization has been that, “I truly in my soul don’t think a loving Heavenly Father would create a gay kid then expect them to fight it and live alone. With everything I am, as a parent myself, I just don’t believe that.”  

Penny and Trevor share a special mother-son bond, loving their time spent together watching reality shows like Project Runway, shopping, and on occasion, learning Tiktok dances. Penny describes Trevor as an amazing and caring man, a fun guy to be around, a great friend who gives good advice, and a loving and supportive big brother and son. She loves how Trevor stands up for himself and for what’s right. 

Church can now be a hard place for the Rowells, especially after recent painful talks and policies stemming out of Utah. They try to practice patience for those who have not yet experienced what their family has in this realm, and hope better resources and education from church headquarters are offered soon. In the meantime, Penny says her family relishes watching “The Chosen” series and often finds that to be the Sunday School lesson they crave. She says, “I can’t picture the Christ of The Chosen turning away a whole body of people.” 

The love Penny bears for all her children runs deep, and of the tears she’s shed while reflecting on the pain Trevor’s experienced, Penny wants all in her circle to know, “This is an emotional topic for me, I would never want someone to mistake my tears for sadness because my son is gay. I’m not sad because I have a gay kid; I’m sad (and cry) because of how they’re sometimes treated. I’m really grateful I have a gay son; I know it’s a blessing. We’ve grown in ways we never would have, if not for him. And we feel so very blessed.”