THE BURTON FAMILY

One night, when Holly Burton was tucking her 6-year-old son Sam into bed, he looked up at her with his imploring blue eyes and said, “Mom, I have a question and you have to tell me the truth. Am I adopted?” Holly responded, “No, honey. I would tell you if you were adopted; why do you ask that?” Her son replied, “I don’t know, I’m just… different.”

It turns out Sam would experience a unique path from many of his peers, in more ways than one. “He was always a very creative, gentle, inquisitive and intelligent child,” says his mom. “He tested to be in a gifted program, but he wanted to stay at his regular school and be with his friends.”

Sam is the second of five children in the Burton Family. Throughout middle and high school, Holly says Sam didn’t identify himself as being gay, but later reasons that the guys he admired back then probably were crushes. He told her, “Our culture never provided me with a healthy framework to even conceive of being gay, so it was easy to dissociate and convince myself it wasn’t so.” Sam had lots of friends who were girls, but no girlfriends. Holly now laughs, “I always just thought he was so pure, he wasn’t going to kiss anyone before his mission.” Indeed, as he prepared to serve, Sam’s stake president told his parents, “I interview a lot of missionaries before they leave and really grill them – I want to tell you that Sam is one of the purest souls I’ve ever spoken with.”

Sam loved serving in one of the New York missions, and his friends and family loved receiving his “wonderfully entertaining letters.” Halfway through his mission, Sam began having what he thought were heart problems. He was put through a series of tests, but came to realize he was experiencing severe anxiety attacks. Sam was coming to the realization that he was gay and the cognitive dissonance that it created caused his body to react. He came out to a LDS services therapist as well as his mission president.

Unfortunately, telling his mission president is something Sam later regretted. His mission president approached Sam being gay as a problem to be fixed, a sin to be repented of, and proceeded by meeting with Sam regularly to help him determine what was preventing him from accessing the Atonement to help him be made straight. As a pretty straight-laced kid, Sam was unable to come up with answers that merited such a repentance process. Sam’s mission president advised him not to tell his family he was gay, so they remained unaware of what he was going through. After two years, Sam returned home to Holladay, UT, and began school at BYU Provo, where he found a good therapist. He found these sessions very helpful.

Soon after school started that fall, Sam met his mom for a last minute lunch at Thanksgiving Point. Over a table at Costa Vida, Sam shared a significant spiritual experience from his mission that happened during a time when he was in a particularly dark place. He was sitting outside his apartment on a fire escape feeling alone and without hope. As he prayed, he felt a great peace and these words came into his mind: “You are not broken. You are exactly who you should be. You are going to be okay.” This experience carried Sam for the rest of his mission until he returned home. On that day, after sharing this with his mom, he said, “You probably already know this, Mom, but I’m gay.” Taken back, Holly replied, “Wow. I didn’t know that. This is big… Just know I love you and that makes absolutely no difference.”

When Holly got back to her car, she had an overwhelming feeling of, “I wish it were yesterday. I wish I could go back in time.” While she was so grateful her son had shared this news with her, she says, “I was worried. I didn’t feel like this is end of the world horrible. But more like all those expectations and dreams I had for him are gone, and he’s going to have a different life, and I was mourning that. Things will be different – for this kid whose kindness, patience, and compassion are gifts. We thought he would be the best husband and father. And at that time, I thought that’s not going to happen for him. Now, my thinking has flipped – he will be the best husband and father, but it won’t be with a woman. And I’m completely okay with that.”

Sam had asked his mom to let him be the one to tell his dad, Brent, which presented a challenge for Holly who always shared her thoughts and feelings with her husband – especially big news. That night, as she was making dinner, Brent caught her in an emotional moment and asked what was wrong. She said, “I heard news about a friend who is going through some hard things. I can’t share the details, but I’m feeling sad.” Sam reached out to her that night to make sure she was alright, saying, “I’ve had a long time to process this mom…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Holly says, “Sam was still Sam. His love and empathy still came through.” Over the next couple weeks, Holly found herself processing alone, with many nights spent crying in the bathroom by the kitchen -- a place no one would hear her. She urged Sam to tell his dad, completely confident Brent would respond the right way. And he did. Later, Brent said, “This is Sam we’re talking about – one of the best people we know. We know this isn’t a choice.” While Holly and Brent were united in love and support for their son, they then faced the questions that flood so many parents in this space: What does this mean? For our son, for this church, for these people? Where is their place?

Initially, Sam considered the idea of remaining celibate, or alone, and staying in the church. But his family watched as he spiraled into depression, devoid of hope. “God did not make us to be alone,” says Holly. “Especially Sam – who has so much love to offer, so much to share.” Brent initially struggled, wondering “What kind of God would do this to someone? It just seems cruel to give someone a testimony of God’s plan, only for them to realize that one of the end goals in that plan is not possible for them.” Holly ‘s first thoughts were, “Of course this is going to change! If this really is Jesus Christ’s church, it will have to. He has a plan for ALL his children. I’m just waiting for the further light and knowledge!” Though she hopes she’s not being naïve.

Sam remained at BYU, where Holly says loving, affirming professors in his undergraduate program offered Sam the support he needed. “They didn’t love Sam because he was a gay student. They saw him for who he was – this amazing, talented kid. They gave him opportunities to succeed. He won awards, he presented papers, he taught undergraduate classes. He even went to DC to help a professor present their research at a conference.” She credits one professor in particular with offering the kind of support that she feels helped save her son’s life. In light of recent events, she hopes the BYU faculty will remain a safe space for kids like her son who so desperately need them to be.

Holly will never forget when she received a call from Sam one late night. She could hear it in his voice. He was not okay. She asked, “Are you thinking about hurting yourself, Sam?” His response quickly prompted her to drive down and take him to the ER where they met with the psych department. A nurse asked Sam to explain what was going on. “I’m a gay man; I go to BYU.” “Say no more,” the nurse replied. Together, Sam’s support team made a game plan. He started to turn to music, specifically the BYU piano practice rooms, where he’d escape whenever he needed to destress.

It was a short time later that Sam asked his parents, “What would you do if I ever married a man?” They told him, “We’d be completely supportive and love him just like we love you. He’d be a part of our family.” Once Sam realized he had his parents’ full support, Holly says they saw a weight lift from him. He felt hope. Sam is now thriving at UT Austin where he was granted a teaching fellowship and is now pursuing his masters in Media Studies. He plans on being a professor someday. Recently, out of respect to his parents, Sam told them of his intention to have his records removed from the church, feeling he can no longer “in good conscience have (his) name on the records of a church that treats people this way.” Although, he fully respects his parents’ choice to try to stay in the church, serve, and hopefully make a difference.

Holly is serving as a stake Young Women’s president. She strongly believes we should lead with love instead of fear on these issues. She says, “By listening to others -- really listening, we can build bridges and come to understand different lived experiences unlike our own.” She flies a Pride flag not as a political statement, but to show her love. She has often felt the presence of her beloved father, who passed away three years ago, and she hears his spirit reminding her to “Be fearless. Trust in the Lord and know that this is all so much bigger than we can even comprehend.” She believes we need less judgment and more love. “My job is not to judge. I believe that is the Savior’s job. Our job as members of His church is to love.” She wishes we had better training for church leaders on these issues. “Probably the best thing leaders can learn to do is to listen to LGBTQ people.” Her bishop did exactly this with Sam. Holly was so touched by how their bishop just listened to Sam and asked questions -- for hours. He was then inspired to plan a fifth Sunday meeting where he invited Samuel (as the main speaker) to share his experiences, and Holly and Brent and two other parents of an LGBTQ child, to share theirs as well.

What Holly hopes for most right now in this space is that we can shift the narrative so that when a LDS parent’s child comes out, the parents don’t see this as devastating, but see their child as a gift. She says, “The LGBTQ people I know are incredible. They are amazing! I know we say we have a place for them, but our doctrine is not so clear about that place. At least not a place or space that many can live with. By not having or creating that space, we’re losing out. We’ve lost so many people – not just those who have stepped away, but literal lives have been lost over this. It is heartbreaking to me! These are people who have so much to offer. Sometimes we have to ask hard questions – and more importantly listen to the answers. When we really listen to LGBTQ people, we see them, we understand them, and it is then that we are better able to fully love them.”

THE BARTH FAMILY

Angie Barth is often asked what it’s like to raise identical twins. “It’s like having a lesson on love every single day,” she says. “The connection between Gavin and Garrett is palpable. When they were toddlers, if I gave one of them a cookie, he would immediately run off and give it to his brother.” At the same time, the two kept parents Angie and Scott on their toes, earning the nicknames “Seek” and “Destroy” because of the crazy capers they would concoct, including the time when, at two years old, they redecorated every surface of the kitchen in their new house with a rainbow-colored assortment of Sharpie markers they had accessed by strategically climbing onto each other’s backs. 

While the brothers were the best of friends and begged to be in the same class at school, they also were quite independent and pursued different interests. Angie recalls, “Growing up, Garrett loved to talk about his dreams for his future family. For years, he’d share his hopes of having 15 children who he’d drive around in a school bus. He’d rattle off the most ridiculous names for all of these poor kids,” she laughs. “But suddenly, one day, he didn’t want to talk about those plans anymore.”     

Around 14 years old, Gavin and Garrett started to grow apart. As he became increasingly withdrawn, a lot of Garrett’s anger was directed toward his brother. This wasn’t true to the typically kind, content character of the Garrett Angie had watched grow up, but she was at a loss for what to do, as he wouldn’t let anyone in. 

Finally, one night, Garrett confirmed to his mother that he is gay. She had experienced impressions since he was three years old that this might be the case, so it wasn’t too shocking. Yet, she still felt heartbroken that night in his room, looking over at the two pictures of LDS temples Garrett had always displayed on his desk. In that moment, she realized that realistically, a temple marriage would not likely be a part of his future. When Angie asked why he had withheld telling them sooner, Garrett confessed it was because his dad, Scott, was enduring a stressful job hunt, and Garrett didn’t want to add to the family’s burdens.

Angie says, “After Garrett came out, we learned that he had really come to resent Gavin because he knew that Gavin would be able to have all of the things that Garrett had always hoped and dreamed for himself—a happy marriage with someone to build and share a life with, complete with children, home, family—but he had come to the realization that he would never have these things, simply because he was born gay and his brother was not.” 

Garrett has had to distance himself from the church to continue to heal from religious trauma. It’s pained Angie to see how hard he’s had to work to untangle his relationship with God and Jesus Christ from the church teachings that have caused him trauma as he has sought to maintain his mental health. 

Like many parents in her situation, Angie now also questions her own place in the church. She says, “As parents we know, or very quickly come to know through personal revelation, that our child was intentionally, purposefully created this way. We know of their absolute goodness and of their divine nature. However, church teachings have mischaracterized gay people for decades, so it’s difficult to reconcile all of that with what we know to be true about our own child. With identical twins, the differences between how they are treated and the blessings that are or are not available to them in the church feel especially poignant and so completely arbitrary now. Both boys are equally righteous and worthy young men, but because one of them happened to be born gay, the church doesn’t make the blessings and ordinances of salvation available to him in a way that’s sustainable and congruent with the way that God created him. It feels every bit as arbitrary as having these blessings withheld from your child just because God created them left-handed. These days, there are many days I question where, how, and if I have a place in the church. Where is the space for the eternal family that my husband and I have created and have been working so hard for? But I’m trusting that God loves me and loves my family, so I’m just taking it one day, one step, at a time.” 

Crediting books like Evan Smith’s “Gay LDS Crossroads: A Scripture-Based Path Forward,” Angie knows that Garrett’s orientation was not a mistake, nor a choice. Rather, “he is loved and whole in God’s sight, and it is my job to simply love and support my son on his life’s path.” She has felt the impression from above, “Angie, you need to trust me. I’ve got you. I am with your family, and I have always been with you. You need to tell Garrett that you will support whatever path he chooses.” Once she did that, Angie says Garrett began tearing down his protective walls and rebuilding the relationship with his twin brother. At that point, Garrett told his mom that, “For the first time in such a long time, I feel hope again. I forgot what it feels like to have hope and to look forward to my future.” 

This, after a soul-crushing post Garrett had written when he publicly came out. In it, he says, “I prayed to God, every night, wishing I would wake up as something else. Everywhere I searched, answers taught me that God would ‘make it up to me in the end,’ or that I was damaged and would eventually be fixed. Online searches led me to harmful quotes by real-life prophets and apostles, which I’ve decided not to include.

I’ve spent a lifetime convincing myself I’m attracted to women. I’ve spent a lifetime blowing out my own birthday candles wishing I was straight. I’ve come close to booking myself into a conversion therapy. I’ve spent a lifetime being told I was not eligible to receive the same blessings as my twin brother because of something I never chose. I’ve spent a lifetime in a religion that is fundamentally incompatible with my hopes and dreams for the future, which I believe to be good and right.

I am not a ‘bitter fruit.’

I am worthy. I am beloved. I am beautiful. All members of the LGBTQIA+ community are worthy, beloved, and beautiful, and all members of all marginalized communities deserve to be respected, cherished, and unconditionally loved by ALL of us. It may have taken 19 years to believe it, but I’m proud to be gay. I’m proud of all my family members and friends that have helped me come this far. And most importantly, I’m proud of all those still in the closet / dealing with religious trauma. You are so strong, and I am SO proud of you. Better days are coming.”

After taking a gap year to work and save money for college, Garrett has now begun studying English teaching at the University of Utah. A talented creative writer, he is also working on a fantasy book series. His brother Gavin recently started home MTC training for his dream call: the Czech/Slovak mission (which happens to be the place from where Angie’s family originates). Angie loves that both her boys have supported each other’s unique paths in meaningful ways. Recently, Garrett happily performed Gavin’s favorite piano hymn medley at Gavin’s farewell; and both brothers remain close with their sister, Cassia.

What Angie wishes most now is for “leadership to understand that our LGBTQ children and peers are not some obscure, outside threat bent on destroying the gospel of Jesus Christ, the church, and the traditional family. These are children born in the covenant, who grew up loving the gospel, believing it, and embracing it with all their hearts. These are some of our Heavenly Parents’ choicest spirits with amazing spiritual gifts to offer in the service of Jesus Christ. It is such a shame seeing how the church doesn’t really provide a safe environment or framework in which these amazing children of God can thrive. We need them! If we endeavor to amputate them from the Body of Christ by providing no real sustainable place for them to thrive and worship among us, we all lose.” 

Angie would also love to see church communities work to remove the stigma often connected to people (like her son) who need to step away in order to maintain their mental health. “It’s difficult for those of us who naturally fit the church’s mold so perfectly to comprehend the intense turmoil and anguish experienced in the church by those who are born in a way that can’t fit that mold. I would love if we could embrace them instead and extend nothing but kindness, understanding, and love, trusting that God still is very much directing their personal paths as each seeks the healing and wholeness they need to thrive.”

Throughout her journey, Angie feels she’s been blessed to sit with parents of these precious kids and celebrate them together, as they grapple with pain over these issues and questions that don’t really have any answers. She says, “What sacred ground this has been. Because I have a gay son, I have been able to learn more about what it truly means to love as Jesus loves than I likely ever could have in an entire lifetime otherwise. Given the choice, I would change nothing.”