THE JACKIE SMITH FAMILY

There are some advantages to not growing up in the LDS faith. For Jackie Smith, joining the church as a college student from a socially liberal family background has always allowed her to approach church culture from a different angle -- one that as an author and mother of seven, she now uses to help herself and others navigate through certain social ideologies, especially when it comes to facing essential parenting pivots and difficult pulpit pronouncements. As an LDS-outsider (who’s now been baptized in for the past few decades), Jackie observes that, “There appears to be a pride that develops sometimes in the church based on a checklist of our children’s behavior – mission, BYU, marriage, etc. These are things that I don’t think matter as much as we think they do to God. And when we get our self-esteem by our kids checking these boxes, it can become difficult. Because if a kid makes a different choice, it feels like a personal threat.”

Through her books, Jackie hopes to help people step back and see a different approach – whether they have a gay kid or not. Her children’s series, Open Minds, Open Hearts, (available on Amazon) aims to help parents raise children with the emotional strength to confidently choose to be Christlike. It was always important to Jackie that her own children not judge others who, say, drink coffee or smoke, but rather that they recognize that all humans hold and offer light and truth. Jackie’s memoir, Pass It On: A Perspective Offering Insight to All Faiths About Raising a Gay Child in a Religious Home, (also on Amazon), chronicles her journey when her youngest child Spencer, who now goes by Dudley, came out during his junior year of high school. From a young age, Jackie suspected something was different about Dudley. While he says he didn’t know he was gay until the 7th grade, Jackie said she had impressions much earlier that caused her to watch her words and create a safe space for him. “I was always a little overprotective, I think.”

And then, she remembers the doozy of Prop 8. At the time, her husband Kent was a bishop, and she recalls both of them supporting the admonition to “follow the prophet” with the political issue, but behind their bedroom door, Kent comforted her as she mourned, saying, “I can’t do this.” Jackie remembers standing on a street corner behind a sea of Yes on 8 signs, which she refused to pick up herself, but she still feels sick that a young man from her daughter’s high school, carrying a “No H8” sign, approached and saw her standing there. It felt like a punch to the gut. She went into the bushes and cried.

For Jackie, the hardest part about Dudley coming out, even all these years later, is that he initially believed his parents would never speak to him again once he did. This heart-breaking confession has since propelled Jackie to write, to speak up, to speak out and let others know how we can preventatively do better. “I’m trying to scrape off all that Mormon guck – all the judgment – and remind people how our job is to just teach our kids about Christ.” The Smith family is large, diverse, and very close. All of Kent and Jackie’s children are now married, and the line-up pictured above includes Jessica and Steve Hennings, Andrew and Karisa Smith, Matt and Lizzie Smith, Makenna and Mike Myler, CJ and Spencer Taylor, Sam and Megan Smith, Dudley and Trevor Brown, and grandchildren Moses, Ray, Ocean, Ezra, Smith, Stevie, Etta, Lou, Hal, and a baby girl on the way.

At Christmas time during his junior year of high school, after Dudley first revealed he’s gay to Jackie, he gave each of his siblings a similarly wrapped package. As they each opened up a rainbow-colored pin and put it on, Jackie smiles at the memory of the instant sibling huddle of loving support.

After her son came out, Jackie says her priority was that Dudley still felt like a beloved child of God, even though he felt a need to pull away completely from church teachings. As he was the only child still at home, Jackie and Kent adapted. At the time, they thought it was best for Dudley to still attend church and finish seminary, but Family Home Evening turned into a weekly 30-second inspirational quote (that sometimes led to hours of discussion). They tried to work around his feelings, rather than plow through them.

After high school, Jackie says Dudley experienced some wild days and nights as a student at Santa Monica College studying film. She believes this was due to Dudley’s lack of self-love due to the experiences he faced that sprouted from church teachings that need to change. One day, he came home to his parents and bawled on their bed at the spiral his life had taken. Together, they discussed self care and a path that would help Dudley overcome the damage to his emotional health. This bumpy journey would lead to a really good life and partner who would support and love him. Dudley decided to transfer to UVU, where he could study geology and be closer to his siblings, with whom he remained close. He met Trevor, a BYU graduate, and together, they lifted and loved one another on their mutually healing journey. The family laughs that it was Dudley and Trevor’s relationship that advanced the quickest of all their long-haul dater siblings, and the two were married in a beautiful ceremony just two years later.

The entire Smith family remains close, and true to form, last week, they met in clusters (in California and Utah) after Elder Holland’s infamous delivery at that BYU podium so that they could process together. Jackie shared that she spoke to a faculty member at BYU who sat through the talk and described it as a bit of whiplash after listening to BYU President Worthen’s prior talk the same day on the importance of inclusion. Jackie feels that every talk opens up room for more thought and discussion. To her, this wasn’t a step backwards, but a catalyst for changing mindsets, building progress, and ultimately leading to light and truth. Jackie believes we should be proud of the students and faculty who are striving to be like Christ. “The church has created a university of earth-shattering people who seek God’s will, love God’s children, and care about their future. Let’s be grateful for their voices and their vision. I, too, believe BYU should continue to be unique, but there is a difference between uniqueness and isolation. If you isolate, you won’t be unique because no one will notice you. When you’re unique, you stand out. When you isolate, you are forgotten.”

Regarding the reception of such an address in the LGBTQ+ community, Jackie offers a broader perspective on grace: “We cannot raise our kids to worship our prophets and apostles. There is a fine line between worshipping and revering – they are imperfect men; they know it, and they want us to know it. They ask God for revelation, too. I can completely disagree with someone but know they’re still a child of God trying to do their best. I love Elder Holland – he has inspired me throughout my life. I’m not thinking he’s a horrible person because of one mistake. For all I know, he may have cried himself to sleep that night. Or he may have thought all that needed to be said. I don’t know. Let us not forget he is a child of God, too. He’s reading his scriptures, praying, uncovering light and truth, too, just like me. He’s on a journey; I’m on a journey – and our journeys need to collide so we can learn from each other. And when we both face God, He will let each of us know what he wanted each of us to learn from this experience.”

Jackie believes the general authorities when they say they’ve been on their knees praying about people like her son and her family. As for what she’d say directly, if given audience: “I’d invite them to come meet our kids, come meet my son, and admit to themselves these are children of God and they have a place in God’s kingdom and heart. We know that. We are looking forward to seeing how they fit into God’s plan. Everyone needs to continue to seek the answers; please, please don’t close any doors.” #liftandloveathome

THE WELCH FAMILY

“We’ve always been all in,” says Melinda Welch, speaking of her and husband Wayne’s affinity for both their marriage and the LDS church. “And we used to be a check all the boxes type of family. Family prayer, family scripture study, church attendance, church service and missions equals all of our children have solid testimonies and stay in the church and we live happily ever after.” Several decades later, while high school sweethearts Melinda and Wayne are still very much “all in” with their family and the church (Wayne is currently serving as a YSA Bishop in a Bountiful, UT ward), the Welch’s black-and-white thinking has been replaced with a sea of rainbows since two of their five kids have come out as gay.  

Now, the large and loving family has grown in both size and support. Oldest son Addison – 35, is married to Bre – 30, and they are the parents of Alfie – 7 and Poppy – 3, with one more on the way. Landon – 33, married Alex – 38, who came with two kids (Andrew – 14 and Sophia – 12) from his previous marriage. Truman is 30. Monson – 28, married Lexi - 26, and they are the parents of Tayla – 5, Lady – 3, and Elsie – 1. And Laila is 19. 

The Welch family shows up for each other – whether it be for Melinda, Addison, and Bre’s theatrical performances or for Truman’s drag shows in Salt Lake. Though the Welch’s posterity are varied in their church affiliation and activity, all showed up in rainbow attire for their recent Pride-themed family party in June. Themed monthly gatherings are just one of Melinda’s traditions to keep her family close. This month, their theme is “Anchor,” and they will meet at their cabin, go boating, and discuss their respective anchors in life. “We want our grandkids to get it. We talk about inclusion, compassion, not judging. Love. Love better. Love more. We want our legacy to be that. You have to walk that, too; you can’t just talk that. So many of the things we do at this stage are for our grandkids – they’re the ones who will change the culture of the church, and the world,” says Melinda. 

The Welch family’s rainbow journey first started when second oldest son Landon was born. From the start, Melinda describes him as “not your stereotypical boy. He’d tie blankets onto his body to make dresses and wrap them around his head like hair.” His parents just let him go for it. “It was just Landon.” Every Halloween, he’d choose to be a princess or long-lashed Tweety Bird or the Little Mermaid, and Melinda often overheard the “Why do you let him do that’s?” One year, she devised a fool-proof plan (“like Satan,” she laughs), to do a 101 Dalmations family costume. Melinda was Cruella, Wayne was Jasper, and each of the kids would be a puppy. “Of course, Landon claimed Perdita - the girl dog.”

Junior high was rough. Landon would come home sobbing, “All these people keep making fun of me and calling me gay.” “Well, are you?” Melinda would ask. “No, mom, no!” he’d cry. “This was my kid who sat right up in front of the TV for LDS general conference, taking notes, desperate for a nugget telling him he was okay. I was so proud of him, but really, he was dying inside,” Melinda recalls.

During his high school years, she was a teacher at Bountiful High School where he attended, and his refuge became her classroom, where he’d show up during lunch. As his peers matured a little, Landon found his crowd with the theatre and music kids.  He was also a student body officer. After graduation, he went to UVU on a leadership scholarship and still hadn’t officially come out, though his parents anticipated it’d be soon. But things took a turn for the worse. They’d get notices he was failing school and holing himself up in his room. “We’d get desperate phone calls and try to talk him off a cliff, begging him to come home.”

At the end of the year in May, when he should have been receiving a mission call, instead Landon attempted suicide. “We tried our best to help and put him in a mental health facility. Finally, he was able to say, ‘I’m gay; this is who I am.’ ‘Yes son, we get that. We know it’s a choice and we’ll support whatever your choice is’.”

Therein lies language Melinda says she is proud they have evolved past, recognizing this was far from a choice. It took a second unexpected confession to help get her and Wayne there. Two years after Landon was born came Truman, and the two were total opposites in childhood. “He was a typical boy. In fact, Truman would make fun of gay people. We had no idea he was on the struggle bus himself.” Truman was also a student body officer at Bountiful High, and loved serving a mission to Manchester, England. He also ended up at UVU, where he also struggled. Right before Christmas 2013, Truman asked for a conversation with his parents in which he told them he was gay. “It came out of nowhere; it was like an out of body experience,” says Melinda. “The good news is for five years, we’d been educating ourselves and now we no longer said dumb things. We just replied, ‘Truman, we’re here for you’.”

Both sons have since left the church, and at times struggle to understand their parents’ allegiance to a faith that makes little room for them. Melinda and Wayne try to show through their love and example that it is partly for their gay sons and others like them that they stay – to make more room. As they’ve served in their YSA bishopric calling for going on five years, they’ve helped numerous LGBTQ young adults and their families come to terms with who they are. Melinda recalls feeling deep comfort after Landon’s suicide attempt when he met with family friend Elder Holland, who assured them all that God loves Landon and is totally aware of him and his path. Melinda decided, “If he isn’t worried about you, then I’m not going to worry about you. I know God loves my gay sons as much as He loves you and me and anyone else.” 

Melinda says she prefers to go through this process with God on her side. She has loved learning to release her presuppositions of how her kids should “turn out” in lieu of letting them “just be.” She says, “I get so tired of people calling kids ‘wayward.’ It’s called ‘agency.’ We don’t use words that sound like something’s gone wrong with our children. Nothing’s gone wrong in our family. Families can become so divided. That’s Satan’s goal: division. If we buy into that with our attitudes and opinions, Satan wins. What if instead, we could say, ‘That’s okay, I don’t understand, and I’ll just love anyway’.”

The Welches celebrated “so hard” when marriage equality passed in Utah. They had prayed for Landon to find someone to marry – knowing all the while it would be a man. When returned missionary Alex from Brazil entered their world, they were all so happy he brought two kids from his first marriage with him. Landon had always wanted a family of his own. They married in 2015.  Alex’s daughters’ ability to be baptized was compromised by the 2015 LGBTQ policy, and this officially soured Landon’s family’s opinion of the church. “It’s heartbreaking for me,” says Melinda. “These are my people. And also, church people are my people – I want everyone to belong.” She hopes that leaders will use the LGBTQ training resources provided them, which encourage love and compassion. “It feels often like two steps forward, one step back. But at least it’s not two steps forward, three steps back. At least we’re moving in the right direction.”

At the same time, Melinda teaches her kids and grandkids who still attend church to think differently. “We ask them – why do you want to be there? Do you want to just sit and get mad all the time? Or do you want to speak up and help people see it’s not so black-and-white; there are lots of different viewpoints. I’m all about grace – even for those with strong anti-LGBTQ opinions. I have to believe they just don’t know yet. Giving grace to others helps me take back my power and not give my emotional life over to others – instead, I can stay in a loving place filled with compassion and curiosity.”

“I wanted that happily ever after family, and I’ve got it, and I’ve realized it’s not about checking boxes. We’re taught if you do certain things, these will be your blessings, but it seldom adds up. Now I do certain things because I want to, not in an effort to control my children.  I do it to grow me, to change me.  Growth doesn’t happen in the comfort zone. It happens when you’re crying on your bathroom floor. That’s where you meet Jesus. I’m so thankful for all of this. It never feels like a burden, like why me? It’s why not me? Of course, it’s me. Thanks to God, I can totally do this.” #liftandloveathome

@melindawelchcoaching

@waywel

THE NIELSON FAMILY

Hadley Nielson stands out in a crowd – literally. At 6’4, the former UVU basketball star has dominated the court for most of her life; and since early childhood, she has been loved by all who know her in her hometown of Gilbert, AZ. “She’s confident in her own skin, unique, magnetic. She is the funniest person I know,” says Jennifer Nielson when describing Hadley, 23, the second oldest of her and husband Talan’s five kids. (Also pictured is Hayden – 25, his wife Casie, Griffin - 20, Lincoln – 16, Clover – 8, and Hadley’s fiancée, Rachel.) 

Indeed, Hadley’s life was unique from the start. She grew tall quickly, and at a young age, was diagnosed with a connective tissue disease called Marfan Syndrome. Hadley also experiences double vision and ongoing back and joint pain. At the time of her diagnosis, Jennifer experienced a “disillusionment as to what you think your child’s life will be like.” Then at the age of five, Hadley was run over by a car, which redirected Jennifer to realize, “I don’t really care what she can or can’t do as long as she’s here with us.” The mother-daughter duo has been extremely close all of Hadley’s life, having spent much time together attending doctors’ appointments. Jennifer laughs that she assumed that the reason high schooler Hadley (who had plenty of friends) preferred staying home with her mom on weekends over pursuing dating or hanging out with “boy-crazy girls” was just “because I was such a cool mom.” Jennifer was always protective of her daughter, and scoffed when a stake leader once told her, “You should really be cautious letting Hadley play basketball, because lots of lesbians play basketball.” Jennifer thought, “My daughter’s a 6’4 high school girl; this has given her purpose and confidence. Why would this woman think she knows what’s better for my daughter than me?”

In her sophomore year of college, Hadley became very sick and struggled keeping food down. This time, their diagnostic journey took them to the Mayo clinic where they were told Hadley had Rumination Syndrome. She was put on feeding tubes for five months. Hadley went from playing ball on scholarship back to living at home with her parents. 

It was during this time that Jennifer overheard a phone conversation in which she heard a flirtatious lilt in Hadley’s voice followed by an “I love you” to the person on the other line. That’s when Jennifer knew. Hadley had resisted coming out to her parents, not because she feared they wouldn’t still love her, but because she knew that once she came out, she couldn’t go back, and she didn’t want it to affect their close relationship in any way. Even as close as they are, she still feared they might disown her. 

Jennifer immediately called her husband who was at Lake Powell, and he thought there had been a death in the family based on her crying on the other end of the line. Jennifer explains, “I was in the depths of mourning, not because I was angry with her, but because this daughter of mine had endured so much throughout her life and I thought, ‘Why this, too?’ Hadley told me, ‘I used to pray the Second Coming wouldn’t come because I’d in hell and you’d all be in the Celestial Kingdom without me.’ That was her belief system for so many years; and I had no idea. And based on her patriarchal blessing, I thought she’d be marrying a super tall Polynesian guy and I’d have these cute half-Poly grandbabies; it just never occurred to me that she might be gay. I was shaken, but I learned an important lesson that is now advice I share with others: when your child comes out to you, you need to give yourself the opportunity to mourn what you thought their life would be, and space to process as these are life-altering circumstances, but don’t make it about you – it’s about them.” 

After Hadley had fully come out to her family and introduced them to her girlfriend, Jennifer says her health improved dramatically, leading her to believe that perhaps many of Hadley’s symptoms were stress-induced. Hadley had once surmised she’d probably just end up “a Mormon nun,” but she is thrilled to be engaged to her now-fiancée Rachel. Jennifer was delighted by the support of their extended family who had all planned to travel to Hawaii for their wedding last year before COVID altered the couple’s plans. They now plan to tie the knot next year. 

 A parenting payday for Jennifer occurred when Hadley told her, “Mom, you don’t know how much this means to me – your acceptance and love for Rachel.” Jennifer describes the couple as “very Christ-centered; they read their Bible together. Hadley’s never been bitter - she’s always loved Christ. She will attend her sister’s baptism or primary program, but she doesn’t want to be a part of an organization that doesn’t have a place for her. She has no agenda, she doesn’t need to prove anything. She just wants a great life, job, companion, family. The first time I called her a lesbian, she said, ‘No, mom, I’m just Hadley’.” Hadley graduated from college and now works at a financial firm where she is the youngest employee and has mastered seven requisite tests to be at the top of her game as financial advisor. “She is beloved by her superiors – she’s just a good, solid person who makes everyone feel loved and comfortable,” says her mom.

Clover’s first primary program after Hadley came out was a difficult experience for Jennifer. “While sitting there, I just realized how Hadley had invested so much time into this organization, but there’s no place for her in this space. I get frustrated because there’s a lot of ignorance, and I realize I was in the same place ten years ago, comparing being gay to alcoholism – calling it a ‘tendency’.”

These realizations pain Jennifer, as does the truth that, “The authorities and members of the church who speak out on this have had the luxury of both their church community and companionship. Until you’ve had to choose between the two, you don’t know what that’s like. You don’t have any expertise on that. To ask a human being to live their whole life without a companion? That’s just cruel.” And as close as Jennifer and Hadley are, another important discovery Jennifer’s made is that we are not meant to be our children’s companions. “We all need our person. I can be one of her people – but she needs her person. There are many paths to pursue, and many different perspectives, but everyone should have the opportunity to decide how they live their own life.” 

Nowadays, encouraging resilience and authenticity are both a passion and a business for Jen, who as a humanitarian and Emotional Resilience Expert, is the founder of The Dig and Let It Glow -- programs that support people in removing blocks in order to seek peace and self-love along their journeys, wherever they may lead. An advocate for the underdog who has had to overcome much adversity herself, Jennifer has had to pivot along her own path frequently.

“I’m not angry, I don’t want to divide myself from my religious community. I realize most people fall in the middle place -- they want to love, accept, understand. Two polarizing communities have represented these groups for so long, so I’m grateful for groups like this (Lift & Love) that work to build bridges of understanding.” For Jennifer, it’s so easy to lift and love her daughter, Hadley. “I will always choose my daughter; she comes first. People often say how lucky Hadley is to have such loving and supportive parents, but they have it backwards. We’re the lucky ones. It’s a privilege to be her parent. I thought I was evolved and understood unconditional love before, but I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I have learned so much through her and this experience. Hadley emanates true Christlike qualities without ever wanting or needing recognition. Hadley is love. I want to love like her. She is an example to me. If I want to look to someone who is a special, unique person – she is without guile. I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I do know that love always wins.”  #liftandloveathome

THE EVAN AND CHERYL SMITH FAMILY

Many LDS parents of LGBTQ+ kids find themselves at a crossroads when their kid comes out. There, they might just encounter Evan Smith and his book, aptly titled, Gay Latter-Day Saint Crossroads. As a former bishop and counselor in a stake presidency who changed his own mind on things after ministering to those he served -- and even more so when his own son later came out, Evan knows quite a bit about this intersection. He has now written the resource he wished his family had been given many years ago, with hopes his family’s experience might help others.

Evan and his wife Cheryl reside in a town south of Boston, where Evan is an attorney and Cheryl runs a business that purchases, sells, and cares for  competitive show horses. They are the parents of Wes (22), Owen (20), Laurel (18), and Karissa (14), who are each “wonderful and kind, and we couldn’t be prouder of who they are as people.” Wes shares his father’s love for the written word, and is an English major now finishing his first fantasy novel. (He also excels at e-sports.) And it is Wes’ story that planted the Smith family at this crossroads back in 2015, when at 16 years old, Wes told his parents he is gay.  

At the time, Evan was serving as bishop of their ward. He recalls Wes had been depressed (and suicidal, his parents later learned) for over a year before then. “We knew something wasn’t right, but didn’t know how to help him because he wasn’t very clear with us about what was wrong. Due to some homophobic comments I had made while he was growing up, based mostly on my flawed understanding of how I thought God viewed gay people, he was scared to come out. Fortunately, I had another youth in our ward come out to me as bishop before this time, which softened my heart and inspired me to learn more about LGBTQ issues.” 

After Wes saw his dad become more open-minded and lead ward discussions on LGBTQ issues, Wes finally felt comfortable confiding in his parents (and in his siblings). But it would be four more years before he came out publicly. After high school, Wes deferred his plans to attend BYU in order to serve an LDS mission. His mother Cheryl recalls, “I pleaded with him not to go. I knew it would be difficult for him to be submersed 24/7 in the church culture. I knew many would say hurtful things. I was worried about his mental health. I was worried about a lot of things. But to his credit, he loves Jesus Christ. He wanted to go to show his devotion.”

His family was thrilled Wes was assigned to the Brazil Curitiba mission, and Wes, who had always been especially bright and exceptional with language mastery (he speaks four), quickly stood out to his mission president for both his mastery of Portuguese and his adept administrative skills. But it only took two weeks for another missionary to find out Wes was gay, and that’s when the name-calling and chastising began. Wes stuck it out for another 18 months, serving with purpose and success under a leadership he loved, while battling insensitive and at times “ludicrous” commentary from many on the side. After years of praying about what path to take in life, he felt prompted one day on his mission to change his approach and instead just tell God that he was completely willing to live a celibate life if that’s what God wanted for him. The clear answer he got to that special prayer was to “go home, be happy, find a husband, and have a family” – the opposite of what he’d presumed, based on church teachings. 

Upon his homecoming, Wes’ parents did worry how their son’s news would hit their area and the congregations in which he’d been raised, but Cheryl said, “We experienced an outpouring of love like I have never seen in my whole life.” However, shortly after that, Evan and Cheryl had a painful encounter with a General Authority. Evan says that unfortunately, “He made us feel like we had to choose between continuing to serve in the church versus openly supporting Wes. But we couldn’t feel sad about Wes’ choice to leave the church because we knew that decision was necessary for him to maintain good mental and emotional health and that he had received powerful personal revelation indicating he should leave.”

Since this meeting, everyone in the Smith family but Evan has stopped attending church. He explains, “Wes’ siblings don’t feel like they can stay, knowing they’re allowed to marry whomever they fall in love with, but Wes is not. And Cheryl has experienced real trauma from church leaders and from teachings that say some family relationships won’t endure after this life -- like the loving marriage between her non-member father and her LDS mother, or the eventual marriage relationship between Wes and his future husband.” Evan believes more members of his family might have avoided being as hurt by the church if the leaders would acknowledge in General Conference the plethora of changes in teachings that have already occurred in these arenas, and allow some ambiguity regarding the possibilities of future inclusivity in sealings and the afterlife as they await further understanding. Ultimately, he and Cheryl hope Wes finds love and happiness, just like they wish for all their kids. 

In Gay Latter-Day Saint Crossroads, Evan presents his progressive stance, based on scientific findings, studies about the psychological harm caused by certain teachings, and quotes from church leaders that suggest future change is possible. “I hope my book functions as a handy resource for quick arguments that show how the church’s current position on gay sexual behavior may be more reflective of human prejudice than divine truth. While waiting for doctrinal change, we hope more church members continue to learn to be more loving toward LGBTQ people and that the stigma that often is attributed to LGBTQ church members who leave the church goes away. We hope more people learn to recognize that until the doctrine changes, God may actually desire that some (if not most) LGBTQ church members leave the church for their own mental health and well-being.” Evan has been pleased to see many bishops refer his book to families seeking resources as they embark on similar journeys. “Parents have told me it helped them see how they could celebrate their child being LGBTQ, regardless of whether they stay in or leave the church.”

Through all they’ve been through, the Smith family has grown closer than ever, and Evan clings to the principle “exemplified in Jesus’ ministry to the marginalized that it is more important to avoid breaking a person than it is to avoid breaking a rule. If we have to choose between the two, always choose to break the rule, not the person.”

“I have learned more about Christlike love by having a gay child than from anything else in my life. That has made the love I feel for everyone else so much richer, too. I have stronger motivation to love people for who they are, regardless of what they believe, than I ever did before. And I think that’s how our Heavenly Parents love us.” #liftandloveathome

Evan Smith’s book is available online (free download) and in paperback at gayldscrossroads.org. All proceeds received by the author will be donated to LGBTQ charities.

THE SMITH FAMILY

If the Bishop would have asked me to speak on this topic even just five years ago, I would have jumped at the chance. 25 years ago, I would have been on my mission in Mexico, and I would have been begging to share my thoughts on what I believed with anyone who would listen. This, however, is not the case today. I come to you with much tenderness in my heart, and a prayer that my message will be received with love and an open heart.

Belief had always come easy for me. The church and all that it entailed was my bread and butter. It all made sense. It all fit. Any questions that I might have struggled with were often answered by a conference talk or a quick search in the scriptures or placed on the proverbial shelf. Of course, we had trials… big and painful trials. But in these trials, I found comfort and peace in places like the temple and the simple routine of attending my meetings and serving in my callings. But something happened to us a little over four years ago that forever changed my faith. My faith is no longer wide and all encompassing. It is narrow. It is nuanced. It is much more personal, and much more sacred to me. It is no longer the mountain I had once thought it to be. It is back to its seed like innocence and requires much tending and care.

With permission from my son, I’d like to share with you where my new faith journey began. A little over four years ago, I was in the Primary Presidency and was placed in charge of the Primary Program. On the morning of, we were home and I was going over all of the possible mishaps that might occur. I had a backup plan if someone didn’t show up. I had a backup plan if someone got stage fright and clammed up at the mic. I had a backup plan for my back up plans. I was ready. In the craziness of that morning, I noticed my son Deacon, who was 13 at the time, sitting outside by himself on the porch. I could sense a heaviness about him. He had not been himself as of late. He was more quiet, withdrawn, and had a sadness about him. I pulled him into my room and asked him what was wrong. He looked at me for a long time, not saying anything, tears welling in his eyes, a pained look on his face, afraid to speak. Afraid to voice his truth. It was as if time slowed. I knew what he wanted to tell me. I knew what he was going to say. And tears pricked at my eyes too. And I whispered. “You can just say it. Just say it.” And he sobbed. “Mom, I’m gay.”

What followed was a whirlwind of emotion. I hugged him. I kissed him. I told him I loved him always. We called Todd in and hugged together, and reassured him that our love was not conditional. We briefly touched on what would be required of him if he chose to stay in the church, and his response was heartbreaking: “Mom, I don’t want to be alone.” We only had a moment to digest this new reality and then we were off to church, off to the primary program. I was a zombie that day. I went through the motions robotically, pasted on a smile, and led the children through their songs about families and temples and their talks on Jesus and baptism. It was all a blur, and then we were back home.

The months that followed were filled with long heartfelt conversations and hours of study and time spent praying. I was overwhelmed with the statistics I found for LGBTQ youth: 84% report verbal harassment at school. LGBTQ kids are 8 times more likely to attempt suicide, and they make up 40% of homeless youth today.

I was saddened to hear the stories of LDS kids being kicked out of their homes, or rejected by family members claiming their “sin” would not be tolerated. How could this be? How could the teachings of the church I love be causing these kids so much pain? My foundation was cracked... and I was stumbling along looking for answers.

Todd and I signed up for a weekend getaway with a group called Mormons Building Bridges. This group was founded with the intent to create bridges between the LDS faith and the LGBTQ community. About 14 of us met together in a beautiful home in Salt Lake City. I was hoping to be taught, to have someone answer all my questions. I was ready for someone else to tell me what to do. Instead, I was given 48 hours to think. There were no lectures, no easy answers. No one there to tell me that everything would be ok. Just a moderator who led a few open discussions on faith, the church and LGBTQ issues. In fact, much of the time was spent alone, pondering, searching, and asking ourselves the questions that needed to be answered. The most important one for me was will I stay in the church? 

I had never had to answer that question before. I have never had a reason to leave.
And now, my new reality that my son would not likely ever be in the celestial room with me had shattered one of my greatest hopes and I did not know how to pick up the pieces. The past several months spent researching the history of the church and LGBTQ issues had left me with some pretty deep wounds. There was no great path for my son in the church, and week after week I saw the pain it was causing him. Eventually he asked to stop coming, and the sorrow of having him missing from my bench every week was unbearable. I think I spent six months crying every sacrament meeting.

And so I sat there that night in Salt Lake asking the question over and over, why will I stay? How can I stay? I have two very conflicting beliefs that have no resolution. And the answer finally came from within ... because of Christ. Christ the great Healer. Christ who sat and taught the woman at the well. Christ who spent his time with the marginalized and taught us not to judge. Christ who taught a radical message of love for all, both Jew and gentile, bond and free, black and white, and I would add gay and straight. It is for Him that I stay.

My experience with Deacon has brought me closer to Christ and his love than any other. It has opened my eyes to many other areas of conflict and pain within these walls, quiet heartaches that often go unspoken.

On Tuesdays, I spend my time at the proverbial waters of Mormon hosting a program for parents, grandparents, and other allies of LGBTQ kids at the Encircle home in St. George. The motto is simple — “No sides, only love.” Many of these faithful people are at the painful intersection of the church and LGBTQ issues. I am in awe of their strength and resilience and their desire to choose love. It helps to nurture my seed of faith, to see God’s love in action.

And so we come back to where I started. What do I believe? I believe that God lives. That he loves us dearly. That he sent his son to be the greatest example of love. That he has a purpose for each of his children, and that purpose is not for me to decide. I believe that there is more good than bad. I believe that when we know better, we do better. I believe our LGBTQ children are a light in our world teaching us how to love unconditionally. I believe that we can approach what we don’t understand with Christlike curiosity and he will give us direction. Incidentally, David Archuleta, who sings one of my favorite songs, “Peace in Christ,” came out yesterday on social media. I’ll share a snippet of his words:

“I plead that you be more understanding to people who experience and struggle with things that you may not experience and understand for yourself… If other people choose to live differently than what you’ve been raised to believe is right, please have compassion because it’s most likely been an exhausting journey for them to be ok with the feelings they have and never have been able to change.” I love that. And to those of you in the audience who may need to hear this, happy Pride month. If the Church has hurt you, Christ himself won’t. If the Church has made you feel lonely, Christ himself won’t. If you feel like there is not room for you at church, there is room for you at my pew. #liftandloveathome

Sherine and Todd also welcome to their family pew Beck (9), Cale (11), Finley (13), Tagin (14), Paisley (16), Deacon (17), and Tobin (22), who is married to Ruth, and Cooper (24), from Todd’s first marriage. Triple threat (singer, dancer, actor) Deacon recently finished his training at Diamond Talent Studio in St. George, UT, and this fall will attend the Manhattan School of Music in NYC to study Musical Theatre. 

THE COLVIN FAMILY

Carol Colvin grew up a straight-A student, a “Molly Mormon who knew all the answers” – or who could quickly turn to a conference talk or scripture to find them. Now 58 years old, she feels like she’s spent the last 14 years putting together a puzzle without a box or a picture to guide her, “and when you think you have it all figured out, you realize a few of the pieces still don’t fit.”

The Colvins raised their three kids during the decades when the church still taught that being gay was ”a choice one could overcome, something caused by pornography use, sexual abuse, or a dysfunctional parent-child relationship.” Even in the secular world, she says, supporting gay marriage was not endorsed by presidential candidates on either side. So she didn’t have all the answers when her oldest son Jonathan came out. Carol says she isn’t proud of the way she and her husband responded for the first few years: “We said stuff like ‘We love you but don’t really agree with your choice to be in a same-sex relationship.’ Or, after he brought home his first boyfriend, ‘I can handle this in theory, but I don’t want to see it’.” In 2009, when Jonathan asked her to join PFLAG, Carol’s now ashamed to say she said no. But in 2014, the two attended Affirmation together. This was a life-changing moment in which Carol saw, “The spirit of God is with these people. It opened my heart and showed me God loves them.” It was at this point that Carol acknowledged, “When you know better, you do better.” Ever since, Carol has been making up for lost time.

Nowadays, Carol can be found decked out in rainbow gear, staffing hugging booths at Pride events in Seattle and Utah. “I used to always wish somehow he’d find a girl, but now when we’re out, I’m the one saying ‘Ooh, that guy’s cute, and trying to play matchmaker.” Carol now reiterates the importance of listening to and believing the experiences of the LGBTQ people in her life. 

Carol and Gary Colvin have been married for 37 years. Puyallup, WA is home, and where they’ve raised Natalie (31), Spencer (34), who now lives in the UK with his wife and two boys, and Jonathan (36), who worked in the restaurant industry while going to school in NYC until COVID hit. 

Jonathan has always displayed business and math prowess, and is now developing an app while working toward his dream of owning his own restaurant/bar. Carol admires his intellect and generous spirit. “He was the kid who’d share all his Halloween candy, and now, every time he comes into extra money through day trading, he gifts money to family members to help pay their debts. He has this way of making everyone feel like they’re the coolest person in the world.”

Jonathan always knew he was gay, but first tested the waters with his parents by telling them he was bisexual. This was after he graduated top of his class as an air traffic controller in the Air Force. After being bullied by coworkers for almost two years, he was honorably discharged when a fellow serviceman reported he had posted something online indicating he was gay. (This was prior to the repeal of “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”)

When Carol immersed herself in prayer as how best to mother Jonathan, she received three guideposts: first, to always seek the spirit. Second, to collaborate with others in this space. And third, to get comfortable “being in the middle. I try to be there for people still using church vocabulary like ‘same sex attraction’ while also being the type of person who can talk to drag queens at a PRIDE festival.”

Carol has taken all she’s learned and now feels value in being a resource for others – especially as resources are so few in the church. She believes, “As parents, our first job is to be there for our children with 100% support for who they are – so we can keep them alive. Secondly, we have to maintain a strong family unit. We have to direct only hugs, support, and celebration toward our children. 

I made mistakes early on; fortunately, my child survived all the stupid things I said. But now I tell others as they’re mourning their lost expectations for their child’s future, they need to direct any of that turmoil and loss elsewhere. Your child is where you dump all your love. Anything else – grief, anger, sadness, cognitive dissonance – you’ve got to dump all that somewhere else.” 

Carol wishes her local leaders would employ her services more and allow her to start a sanctioned support group like the one she wishes she had had when her son first came out. But Carol has largely faced brick walls with local authorities still hesitant to openly affirm the LGBTQ families in their midst. She likens this resistance with how she used to feel about fire drills as a child.

“They’re scary. Even if you know there’s no fire, you don’t want to imagine even the possibility of a fire; but it’s always best to be prepared.” Carol now independently mentors many families, and has had four parents approach her in just the last month for advice. Carol knows there are queer people in every ward who haven’t come out because they don’t feel it’s safe to do so, and she’s seen the damages from leadership roulette. She’s even witnessed a bishop stop a lesbian sister from bearing her testimony.

Yet, Carol sees progress as hearts open, both in the church and in her work as both a dōTERRA Wellness Advocate and as a facilitator for Leslie Householder’s mindset mastery company, Rare Faith. “It’s nice to get the word out there and have others acknowledge, ‘Oh, Mormons can have gay kids’?” She appreciates how times have changed. The year Jonathan graduated high school (2003) in their conservative community, the only student who had come out was beaten so badly he was in a coma for six months. This climate, mixed with church teachings of the time, definitely influenced the Colvins’ mindset, including Jonathan’s reluctance to come out before graduation. 

But the Colvin family got a do-over when a family friend asked them to consider hosting a foreign exchange student in 2017, after their three children had moved out of the house. Carol felt a pull to request a gay child, but it was several months in before they realized that Bruno from Brazil was indeed gay – and quite confident in his skin. At the same school Jonathan had attended 14 years earlier, he became best friends with the student body president, participated in every musical and play, and went to prom. The entire student body knew he was gay and loved him for it.

Back when Carol’s own son came out, she says she felt so lost. She wrestled with God for answers – why was he this way after how he’d been raised? But the answer she got was freeing: her job was to just love Jonathan. The rest would work itself out. This required her to deconstruct her testimony to make Christ her foundation, instead of church culture. “It was time to throw out the boards and nails that didn’t fit my new ‘house of faith’ and start over. I went from following the prophet blindly to seeking and relying more on personal revelation for myself and my family. I know that love is what makes a celestial family. If someone doesn’t make the cut in the next life, the rest of us will follow and make a heaven out of hell.”

Carol recognizes that each church community is a laboratory of unique human beings. She felt guided to take a sabbatical for a while herself to clear her head from negative triggers. But she now knows she can’t leave, for “Bloom where you’re planted” reasons. “I want to stick around and be here – the woman with the rainbow pin. The one who raises her hand and reminds people that things have changed; leaders don’t say those things anymore. The one who carries around Elder Ballard’s quote that implores, ‘I want anyone who is a member of the church who is gay or lesbian to know I believe you have a place in the kingdom’.” She wants to be one who teaches people that when their kid/niece/grandchild comes out, the proper response is, “Thank you for honoring me by sharing that information with me. I love you so much.” #liftandloveathome

THE EWING FAMILY

At the start of her 8th grade year, Kendall Ewing’s new middle school track team needed someone to run the mile. Kendall wasn’t much of a runner -- had never been much of a competitive athlete of anything really -- but she agreed to participate, knowing they needed help. Throughout the season, Kendall came in dead last in every single race, something her mother Shannon says should have been particularly challenging for her daughter, who struggles with major anxiety. But Shannon said what impressed her most was how Kendall stuck it out the whole season, untethered to the judgment of others, while beating her best time with each and every race and ultimately improving her personal record by over a minute. 

“This strong sense of being so comfortable and confident in her own skin is such a juxtaposition to her anxiety, but it’s just who Kendall is,” says Shannon. “She loves music and takes voice lessons; and she plays the guitar, bass guitar, electric, ukulele, violin, piano, you name it… but she won’t perform outside of her bedroom.” Now 16, Kendall also loves her regular babysitting gigs and wants to be a teacher one day. This fall, as a junior in high school, she will start the Ready Teach program in her Bulverde, Texas high school, which will allow her to team-teach in a local elementary school the first two periods of every day. Overall, Kendall magnifies typical teen interests and dreams, and it was in typical Kendall style how she came out to her mother last October on National Coming Out Day.

The two were sitting on the couch, each scrolling through Instagram when Kendall’s post popped up on Shannon’s phone: “Lesbian is not a dirty word. If you have questions, ask me.” Shannon turned to Kendall and did just that: “Is this legit? Is there something you want to say?” Kendall said, “Yep, it’s true.” “Cool,” shrugged Shannon, who wasn’t entirely surprised. While the Ewing family is open about many topics, including sexuality, Kendall had known this about herself but held back for awhile, unsure how her news would affect her parents. But both Shannon and husband Jason, who together own Ewing Automotive in San Antonio, Texas said this changed nothing about how they feel about their daughter, whose truth was also embraced by siblings Kamryn – 14 and Kohen – 12.

Kendall knew all along she’d have her mother’s support. Shannon didn’t grow up in the typical LDS family mold that characterized her Idaho hometown. “We were very liberal, and I sometimes straddled the fence, unsure which way I’d roll.” She and Jason married in the temple, and have been active in the Texas wards in which they’ve resided since. But about five years ago, Shannon decided to be wholly authentic with who she is in every way, even pressing buttons at times as needed, which she thinks helped her daughter know she’d have her back. Kendall also has a good friend in her mostly-LDS friend group who has come out, and that child’s mother has bonded with Shannon as the two have started a support group for about 30 others in their LDS-LGBTQ San Antonio, TX community.

Kendall came out on a Thursday, and the following morning her mother went on a scheduled girls’ trip, leaving Jason alone to sort through his daughter’s new territory, which was a struggle for him at first. He consulted with a friend from the stake, a child psychologist, who advised that the most important thing was to put the relationship with their daughter first. While Shannon says that Jason still can’t wrap his head around exactly what this looks like for the long term, he’s processing at his own pace in the journey and loves his daughter fiercely. Meanwhile, Shannon loves to show her love visually, wearing her Ally pride pins and rainbow shirts often to show support. She’s dedicated to putting Christ and family first, and completely fine with whatever path Kendall takes, as long as she’s healthy and happy.

There have been some uncomfortable moments in church settings in which Kendall has reached out to her mother for support, like when she recently sat through a tough seminary lesson. Shannon says, “I texted her back, ‘Listen, if this works for you right now, that’s great. If not, or in three months, we’ll change tactics.’ No matter what she decides to do, we have her back.” Since day one, Shannon has expressed, “I don’t believe in a Heavenly Father or Jesus Christ who would make you the way you are then punish you for being that way.” She has had to deconstruct her faith down to the basics, realizing her testimony is primarily based on Jesus Christ right now, and not necessarily some of the peripheral teachings of the church. Shannon says, “We have an entire Atonement process for people who CHOOSE to make bad choices, so how can we say it’s not for someone who didn’t choose this? Christ’s ultimate purpose is to let everyone return, happy and healthy, no matter what that looks like. So I tell Kendall ‘I’d rather you not get married in the temple to a woman who adores you for who you are, than in the temple to a man who looks good on the outside, but doesn’t honor who you are on the inside – I don’t want that for you’.”  

The Ewings feel Kendall’s coming out has also been a blessing in that it’s opened their eyes to others in their community who are being marginalized. “It’s been nice to see outside the bubble, and find there’s a greater purpose out there, and ways to get involved.” As for the climate inside the church, Shannon wishes that leadership understood that some of the boundaries currently laid “are toxic and hurtful. They are behind the times as they have been with some other things in the past. I don’t know why change hasn’t happened yet – maybe it’s society, maybe the church will catch up – I don’t know when. But everyone should have a right to be sealed to a family; that should work itself out. Christ’s church shouldn’t have these limits and boxes. Ultimately, the main goal is to love God, love other people – and that’s it.”

As for the other stuff? Let’s just say Shannon’s recently gotten a couple tattoos and a nose piercing in solidarity to remind herself and others that no one needs to take themselves too seriously. “If they have a problem with how Kendall is or presents herself, they can talk to me first.” 

And after so doing, they might just find Kendall circling the track in her own lane, not too worried about what everyone else is doing, as long as she’s working toward her personal best.

THE COOK FAMILY

As a child, Kelly Cook would often visit her father at his dental practice. She recalls one day when he sat her down to announce that soon she’d notice a familiar patient enter the office who was in the process of transitioning from male to female. He instructed, “We will be respectful and will now be calling this patient by her new name, Mrs. Johnson.” That was the end of the discussion. Similarly, Kelly witnessed the longtime friendship of her mother, Ruth, and her gay hairdresser, Michael. On the last day of her life, Ruth welcomed Michael and his daughter, Mia, into her hospice care room to do her hair for the last time. Michael was like a son to Ruth, and she commented on what wonderful husbands and fathers both he and his partner were. Michael replied, “Ruth, what will I do without our walks, talks, and visits to each other's homes?” In their lifetime, Kelly’s parents served as mission presidents and as the Oakland Temple President and Matron, but it was these examples of love that would prove to be the most impactful in Kelly’s life. She journaled the details of her mom’s last visit with Michael, not knowing at the time how it was helping to prepare her for the day four years later when she would be called upon to show love and support when her own son came out.

Nick (23) is the firstborn child of Kelly and Rich Cook, who met and fell in love at BYU. Soon, the girls followed: Ruthie – now 21, Caroline -18, and Hazel -14. Kelly remembers how as a young boy, Nick would go to preschool, find the sparkly slippers, and jump into his favorite fire engine to tour the playground. He loved to play with My Little Ponies, climb trees and door jams, watch Mulan, and play sports with his friends. To this day, the Environmental Studies and Sustainability student enjoys the outdoors, and Nick looks forward to graduating next year from the University of Utah. Kelly describes her son Nick as forgiving, patient, a great listener, champion of the underdog, and her child who would become so concerned if someone waved to her and she didn’t see it, that he would give her a nudge: “Mom, so and so said hello and you need to say ‘hi’.” His sisters appreciate how Nick always knows the right way to be there for others, whether they need to laugh or cry. They all love how he includes an “I love you” with every good-bye.

In middle school, Kelly remembers a conversation in which Nick was trying to sort through his complicated feelings. He wondered if he was bi, and mainly dated girls until his senior year when he met his first boyfriend. He then told his mom he knew he was gay. This changed nothing for Rich and Kelly, and Nick was equally embraced with love by his siblings. Caroline simply asked her parents, “Is that why Nick hasn’t been coming to church lately?” She then told her brother, “It doesn’t make me love you any less.” They feel incredibly lucky to have him as part of their family and also to have the support of extended family members on both sides who are open to learning, growing, and accepting anyone who Nick loves.

While Nick always felt loved by his family, there were certainly struggles along the way. His parents initially didn’t want him to come out or date a guy publicly out of protection for him, and they feared what his sisters might think, or how it might look to their community and ward -- all fears proved wrong. Nick ended up going to his senior prom with his boyfriend, Mischa. Kelly remembers, “I was a nervous wreck the day he wanted to ask him. I had a headache, and by accident, ended up taking a Tylenol PM, which was probably a blessing.” When Kelly awoke and asked Nick later that night how he was feeling, he said, “I’ve thought about what asking him to prom would look like, what taking pictures beforehand and the bus ride and dancing together will feel like, and I’m not scared at all.” His calm helped Kelly process her own fears, which were quickly resolved... (cont’d in comments)

The family lived in Palo Alto, CA at the time, and Kelly is so grateful her son had “the best friends,” both in and out of the church, who showed Nick support. Mischa will always hold a significant role in the Cook family’s life, as it was through their relationship that Kelly really understood that love is love and that Nick’s would be no different than any of her other children’s relationships. Sadly, while studying abroad in Spain while a student at Stanford, Mischa died in a freak fall from a cliffside a couple years ago. The devastating accident broke the Cooks’ hearts but also led to some tender experiences in which it was confirmed that God and those who live with Him are all around us still.

“We have been incredibly lucky when it comes to church leaders ever since Nick has come out. We’ve been met with love and acceptance from both bishops and stake presidents,” says Kelly, whose family now resides in Park City, Utah. One church leader who knows Nick’s journey told the Cooks, “Nick will probably marry a man someday, and he probably should.” Kelly loves how this made their family feel seen and understood. Of her unwavering support for her children’s paths, Kelly says, “We encourage all of our children to look to God for answers and let our Heavenly Parents guide them. I realize that Nick’s relationship to God is complex, but I leave that relationship to him. I want what Nick wants for himself and I’m here for all of the feelings associated with that.”

Trusting the spirit has led to many life-saving conversations with Nick through some very dark times that ultimately allowed Nick to catch glimpses of his divine eternal worth to God. Kelly appreciates how she’s been allowed to be a conduit to the Lord’s love for one of His precious children. She learned early on in their journey that the outcome is not something she needs to worry about for her children. When Nick first came out as bisexual, Kelly felt confused and anxious about what that meant. “I felt ignorant to this term and wanted a more concrete label for him, so I could better understand who and where he was. Would he end up with a man or a woman?” Ultimately, she learned that whatever the outcome was would be a beautiful thing, if the process had been nurtured in love along the way.

Kelly dreams “of a church space that openly welcomes all our LGBTQ loved ones exactly as they want to show up, just as we do for other individuals – whether it’s someone who’s questioning, who chooses to be single, or in a same-sex relationship - married or not. Let’s consider who’s not with us at any given time. Why are those who are LGBTQ not with us? Why are single or other individuals not as active? We need to start asking ourselves these questions, but more importantly ask THEM why they don’t feel encircled in acceptance from a Christian population that has the capacity and ability to do so. We also need to take accountability for the tremendous pain and even the lives lost over damaging policies that have been and continue to be in place.” Kelly believes that it’s God’s plan for His followers to enfold and include, not to sift out, divide, or exclude. “This gospel is big enough and expansive enough for ALL of us, exactly as we want to show up.”

The Cook family vows to use their voices to speak up and speak out when they hear disparaging or damaging comments about others as they work to make safe spaces within the church and elsewhere for their beloved LGBTQ friends and family members. Kelly’s grateful for these opportunities to champion others and grow in empathy for all who don’t fit the traditional LDS mold. As for her family’s future, Kelly says, “I don’t worry about the eternities. God is all-merciful and eager to bestow all that He has upon His children. He knows our hearts and minds perfectly and knows that this life is often complex and painful. His love will cover all things and situations. I feel perfectly confident in that.”

THE HANSEN FAMILY

Once upon a time, you “get married and have kids and think it’s all going to be great,” laughs Donna Hansen, reflecting on the starry-eyed newlywed she used to be. But it hasn’t always been sunshine and roses for Donna’s family of five, which includes husband Chris and sons Cole (20), Clayton (24), and their first-born, Calvin – who would be 26, but passed away in a tragic car accident at age 13. The trials, detours, and now rainbows the Hansen’s have encountered have only helped to put everything in perspective and make their family stronger.

“I’m not losing another grandkid,” was the response of Donna’s father, who they were most reluctant to tell after Clayton came out to his parents during his freshman year at Snow College. And indeed, his beloved grandpa quickly joined the whole family in embracing Clayton as well as his news. According to Donna, Clayton’s always been easy to love. “He was this cute, blue-eyed, blonde-haired little boy who batted his eyelashes and got whatever he wanted.” In high school, she wondered if he might be gay, but when she asked, he shrugged it off: “No mom, I’m fine, leave me alone.”

“At the time, I wondered, but wondering and knowing are two different things,” says Donna.

It wasn’t until Clayton had come home for a college weekend visit and was ten minutes from going back to campus that he interrupted Donna at the sink where she was doing dishes to say, “Hey Mom, I’m gay.” This time she asked, “Are you kidding me?” But she quickly walked over and clasped his hands, which were “shaking like a leaf,” and she knew he was serious. She simply replied, “That’s fine. It’s okay. We love you. And then he went back to school.” Donna chuckles, relaying a lot of moms probably get told big news right before a departure and it’s a good thing for all to have time to process. Donna appreciated the time that she and husband Chris had to work through the newness of it all without having to run and tell anyone else. It wasn’t a huge surprise to Chris, who had assumed as much and prepared himself, knowing everything would be okay. Donna felt everything they had experienced thus far in their lives had prepared them for this -- from losing Calvin at such a young age and annually celebrating his birthday and angel day with a “Do A Good Deed for Calvin Day” initiative as a family, to serving in a BYU YSA ward and being part of a home ward family in Spanish Fork, UT that includes several LGBTQ+ members. It all “made it easier to hold our kids closer, and not let stupid things get in the way,” Donna reasons.

Clayton had already come out to his friends at school and had plenty of support. But he most cherishes his family, especially his grandparents who he visits often, and Donna expresses relief that none of them shut him out after he came out. Outside of school, Clayton loves playing Dungeons and Dragons with both his father and a group of friends, and also enjoys traveling, trying new restaurants, and going to movies, museums, and plays. He’s an excellent baker and cook and his mom knows, “he’s going to make a great husband someday.” In Clayton’s circle, there was no big announcement or fanfare, just an “I’m gay. No big deal. That’s me.” But that’s how Clayton has always been, according to Donna. “He’s so comfortable in his own skin. Sometimes so much so that I had wished he cared at least a little about what others thought. But thankfully I wasn’t able to change that about him because that trait would become his armor.”

Chris and Donna hope Clayton finds a spouse one day and has a family. He is dating men now at Utah State University where he has since transferred and will graduate this week in physics. He will then pursue a data certification and work in that field. When it comes to her own status as a lifelong learner, Donna likens this earthly experience to a semester in the grand scheme of our eternal education. “Yeah, we may have a judgment day and we may get a grade, but it’s not the final judgment – we get to keep progressing. We have to turn things over to God and realize we don’t know everything.” Donna works with some friends with LGBTQ children who were further along on their respective journeys and helped pave the way for her with good advice, primarily to “love your child and know the Lord will take care of the rest.” When Clayton came out and Donna’s family suddenly looked different than what she was raised to believe and expect, she did not find as much comfort through reading books where families tried to pigeonhole their LGBTQ children into staying in a church where they might suffer more mental trauma. But she has found hope through messaging like that provided by authors Terryl and Fiona Givens who focus on the central theme that our Heavenly Parents love us and want nothing more than for us to return to them. Donna believes, “We were given this family on earth for a reason and if we turn our backs on our children because they are doing something we don’t like, then we just failed our test here on earth. It doesn’t matter how often we go to church or how much we help our neighbor if we don’t love and support and minister to our own family – the most basic unit in the gospel… Just love your child, support them, let them go from the church if they need to, and celebrate everything about them like you would your other children. The Lord loves them and will provide for them when we can’t.”

A couple weeks ago, Chris was called to be the bishop of the Hansen’s family ward. Chris and Donna told the stake president, “You know none of our kids go to church, right?” He replied, “You’re still great people.” For now, Donna is committed to just loving others – as great people do – as she continues to plug through her “semester on earth.” She’ll continue wearing her rainbow pin to church each week, with the simple mission to love and accept everyone for who they are. Because this mom is not losing another kid.

THE ROLLINS FAMILY

For the Rollins family of Riverton, UT, people sometimes question what they did in their home environment to have not one, but two, gay children. “I promise we had no say in this. It’s just the way they came,” laughs Jenny Rollins, who along with husband Josh, are the parents of Jessica (21), Chelsea (18), Aidan (16), Brinley (12), and Landon (10). The Rollins have also fielded such insensitive (and inane) comments like, “You have two gay kids? That’s just cruel!” and “Wow, you are such a good family. And you still have gay children?” Jenny says her favorite was when a man said, “Often, it’s the sins of the alcoholic father that create gay sons.” Thus, Jenny jokingly blames Aidan on Josh, while she takes credit for their gay daughter, Jessica.

Indeed, this was “the way they came.” From a young age, Jenny recalls Aidan was more interested in playing with dolls and dress-up than the trucks and dirt many boys prefer. He leaned toward the performing arts over sports, and by 8th grade, admitted to his parents he was attracted to boys and couldn’t see a future dating girls. At the time, Josh was bishop, and Aidan was a deacon’s quorum president pursuing an Eagle Scout. While his parents wondered if they should encourage Aidan to live authentically or play the straight card through high school, they knew they could not support their son living in deep shame and pain any longer. Aidan came out publicly two years ago, in the 9th grade, and the Rollins say his mental health has been much better in the past year since he’s stepped away from the church and more fully embraced who he is. Before, he battled the broken record mantra so many gay kids ask, “Why would a loving God make me this way if it’s against His will?”

The Rollins’ eldest, Jessica, was “such an ultra, ultra obedient child and fully immersed in the gospel,” Jenny remembers. So much so that her mom jokingly wondered if the four “normally behaved” children who came after her “might be sociopaths” in comparison. Jessica was a born tomboy – preferring to wear masculine football jerseys and tool belts and to go to work with dad over any “stereotypical girl behavior.” She suffered anxiety and depression through high school that only got worse when she served a mission during Covid lockdown. “It wasn’t until she returned that I realized how suicidal she was.” Shortly after she came home last year, Jessica confirmed what Jenny had anticipated ever since she had seen how her daughter lit up inside the Encircle SLC house the family had visited after Aidan came out: Jessica is also gay. Jessica came out publicly recently via a humorous video and has also had to beg people to stop trying to set her up with their grandsons. Always “the obedient one,” the video was just one way Jessica responded to a prompting she received on her mission that when she returned home, she would “need to be vulnerable in sharing her story.”

Now, the Rollins’ second daughter Chelsea is preparing to serve an LDS mission, a decision they support. And Jenny says she’s equally as excited about what the next few years hold for her straight daughter in terms of marriage and kids, as she is for Jessica. “One will be getting married in the temple, and one won’t. And both futures bring me genuine joy. So no one can tell me this is a ‘wickedness never was happiness’ thing. What am I supposed to tell my kids for the next 80 years? Oh, you get to be alone for the next 80? You can’t even hold hands, because a pamphlet tells you that’s sinful homosexual behavior?”

Both of the Rollins kids came out while their father, Josh, was bishop of their ward, which cast a unique role for Jenny. “In some ways I felt like I was on this journey alone because I didn’t have the stewardship of a whole ward pressing on me simultaneously. There were some things Josh had to put in a shoebox, that now we’re sorting through.” An additional challenge for the family in terms of their ward has been seeing their son lose his sense of brotherhood with his quorums. After he came out, he felt isolation and a lack of camaraderie with the young men he once called friends. “For him to want to go back to church, it’s just not going to happen. Not only is the doctrine difficult, but socially it’s too hard when all they talk about is ‘serve a mission, marry a woman.’ What about those kids who don’t connect with that?” Jenny recalls getting called out for speaking up once in a lesson about how the Family Proclamation doesn’t address every family situation. She finds it ironic that church leaders are now acknowledging the same (in recent conference).

“I separate the church from the gospel. My gay children still observe gospel principles – they’re light seekers and bearers, and do it a lot better than a lot of Christians. They have taught me to love better like the Savior does. This a blessing, not a trial. The trial is seeing them in pain,” Jenny says. As for their place in the church? “I really believe it’s all about changing one heart at a time. Often, the big changes don’t come from the pulpit. They have to come through people’s hearts. It’s hearing stories, listening, that hearts are changed. We need to truly listen and trust people’s experiences. And not just sit there while they’re talking and be thinking of the right reply, or ‘praying for them.’ That’s not listening. Just listen.”

Recently released from their tenure as bishop, the Rollins were asked to be ward missionaries. Jenny hesitated about the call, and told their new bishop, “My goal is to get to the same place that you are – thinking I’m suited for this call. I’ll say yes, but have to go home and work through this.” She has since settled into a place of vulnerability and advocacy in her calling and in life, recently telling her ward mission council, “We need to listen and make our ward safe places. There are so many who appear to be doing well, but they’re not. And they’re too afraid to talk about their stories because we can ostracize out of fear and judgment. We need to be more open to being wrong about things. We don’t know everything. It’s a living church – there are more things to be revealed.”

Of her family’s future, Jenny confidently says, “I’m more comfortable with the hereafter than I am with this mortal journey, because of the way people treat my family. My kids’ sexuality isn’t the problem; it’s the way people treat them. I’m not going to claim to receive revelation for the church, but for my children, I know there’s a plan and it’s all going to be okay.”

THE DESPAIN FAMILY

“I have an announcement to make,” 20-year-old Mikaela said over family dinner two years ago. Though parents Keate and Melissa were aware of her orientation, she hadn’t yet come out to her three siblings: KJ (married to Natalie and dad to sweet Harper), Savannah (married to Austin), and Kyra (married to Alex). “I like boys. But I also like girls.” It’s a moment many kids dread, not knowing the reaction they’ll face. For Mikaela, her recently returned missionary sister simply replied, “Yeah, I know.” Mikaela started bawling with relief, and her mom fondly remembers a “cuddle puddle of sibling support. It was such a weight lifted, to have others to carry the burden with her.”

 “Mom! It’s not a burden!” Mikaela quips with her trademark humor, as the two tell their story. The mother-daughter duo share a warm relationship with lots of laughter and patience as Mikaela has helped her mother Melissa navigate her orientation. Melissa still regrets how she first prodded Mikaela to come out before she was ready, thinking she was being helpful. “Don’t do it,” she advises other parents, “Just wait for them to come to you. I learned the hard way!” Since then, they’ve found their stride and there is love and laughter in their home on this topic. “And a lot of conversations,” Melissa adds.

Being an LGBTQ family in their horse town of St. Helens, Oregon has been “an interesting experience.” All the family cars have a round rainbow Ally sticker on the back, and Melissa says she has been pleasantly surprised how they are stopped by everyone from cowboys to customers at the car wash who thank them for making them feel safer. Mikaela is currently studying psychology online and is a cowgirl to the core. She rides all the gaming events and trails, participates on drill and equitation teams, and chases cows. Her horse Khodi has always provided “a massive safe space.” Melissa says, “One of my greatest joys is watching her do what she loves.” Melissa’s also watched with pride as her talented daughter’s writing has taken off on online platforms, where her works of fiction have ranked #1 and #2 in their genre and where Mikaela’s found a welcome community of friends who have become integral in her life. An empath, Mikaela has always made an effort to be there for others and is fiercely loyal to all in her circle. She loves music and taught herself how to play guitar to the soundtracks of Taylor Swift. Now, Mikaela takes her creativity to Tik Tok, where several of her videos (@woahmikaela) have gone viral.

At first, Mikaela was hesitant to come out to family, because she had seen a close friend in the church face rejection from her father after coming out. Melissa says, “I think it scared her right back into the closet.” While Melissa initially ruminated about all the whys and what ifs, husband Keate took a laid-back approach to his daughter’s coming out, telling Melissa, “Just because you didn’t know this about her doesn’t mean God didn’t. He created Mikaela this way; He was just waiting for her to share it with us.”

Being accepted fully by her family and “mostly” by the members of the church has helped Mikaela remain comfortable attending. She recalls when she first realized she was attracted to both boys and girls (at 12), she felt angry and wanted to know why God created her this way. “I have had some intense conversations with God over the years. But if I know anything it’s that He loves me and He knows me.” She’s found excuses to avoid church at times “in rebellion,” but the quiet voice she hears reminds her, “If you need to do that, that’s okay; I’ll still love you.” During one heated conversation, Mikaela softened when she heard her mother say she’d stop attending church, too, if her daughter needed her to. Hearing that helped Mikaela trust more. She says “I know how much the gospel means to my parents and it just clicked in that moment how important I really am to them. I mean, I always knew they loved me, but somewhere deep inside I wasn’t sure until that moment that they really accepted my bisexuality…” Knowing how hard it would be if her kids were to shut her out of their lives, Melissa has always encouraged Mikaela to keep her relationship with her Heavenly Father strong, which she tries to do. Mikaela also has an undeniable love for the prophet President Nelson. “He makes me feel like there’s a place in God’s kingdom for me. He makes me feel included, acknowledged, loved, seen. I love that man. He just gives me so much hope.” One thing that’s hard for Mikaela is when members assume she’s “a sinner” or promiscuous just because she’s bisexual. “The law of chastity and the repentance process applies to me, too. Jesus still died on the cross for me, too. Being LGBTQ doesn’t stop me from feeling Christ’s love.” But she understands, “It’s a perfect gospel taught by imperfect people.”

Melissa says, “It has been eye-opening to see how unkind people can be, but when you know better, you do better.” She counts herself among those who were once a little clueless. She has since sought an LGBTQ+ education, thanks to many late-night conversations with Mikaela, who broke down bisexuality this way: “Mom, I like the color blue, and I like the color pink. Just because I choose the blue shirt, doesn’t mean I don’t still like the pink one.” Melissa laughs, “She loves to teach me.” Melissa has held several high callings in her stake with youth and wishes she had known then what she knows now, feeling she missed an opportunity to have really made a safe space for the LGBTQ+ kids. But now, Melissa’s a bonafide ally and is working to help educate those in her sphere of influence.

 Mikaela advises others in her shoes to talk to their parents. “They’ll probably come around. And remember, when you first come out, they have only had five minutes to sit with news you’ve been thinking about for five years - in my case. Just be patient.” For now, Melissa hopes for more conversations in hallways, parking lots, at church – about her daughter and other kids like her. “Conversation is where misconception gets thrown away. I love my church; I do. But sometimes the people make me crazy. I wish that people could cut through all the gunk and get to the message that Christ loves all of us. There are two great commandments – one is to love God, and the other is to love each other. Why does it have to be more difficult than that?”

On being a rainbow mama, Melissa says, “If you will let it, this will be one of the greatest blessings in your life. I learned to love more pure and Christlike. I’m a completely different person. God changed me. It wasn’t an easy ride, but it was worth it. I really feel like I know my daughter. Because she’s let me. That’s been a blessing and a gift.”

The Kofford Family

“The sunshine in my life” is how Natalie Kofford has described her son Gavin ever since the day he was born. He’s always been his mom’s sidekick and best friend. Twenty years later, that hasn’t changed. Ogden, UT-based parents Jeff and Natalie describe their son as a “bright, happy, sensitive, kind and gentle little boy who loved friends, animals, babies, Legos, Harry Potter and his family.” Natalie also recalls that Gavin was dearly loved in his home ward growing up. “Hardly a Sunday went by when someone didn’t stop us to tell us something special Gavin had shared in class, how reverently he passed the sacrament, how handsome he was, or how he had touched hearts during a youth conference.” The family felt that Gavin was sent to earth “to keep them on the straight and narrow. His patriarchal blessing repeats many times how he is spiritually sensitive, how he will lead and heal others throughout his life, and in the final days he will be a judge in Israel.”

Gavin sensed he was different since as early as 10, but he didn’t really understand what he was feeling. He later told his parents how initially, he didn’t want to be gay and did everything he could to change it, including dating every beautiful girl he could during high school. But Gavin realized that this was not going to go away. Natalie says that during his senior year in high school, her son became very depressed, and spent a lot of time alone in his room. “I had felt a prompting for a year or two that Gavin could possibly be gay, and we were relieved when he decided to tell us one Saturday afternoon. We hugged and cried and made sure he knew we loved and accepted him exactly how he was. We saw a huge change in Gavin as the burden of this secret was lifted from his shoulders.” Gavin asked his parents to tell his older brother, Kelton, who is now a 23-year-old cadet at West Point. Kelton’s immediate response was, “I am so glad he was born into our family where we will support and love him no matter what.” 

Natalie admits Gavin’s news did not come without some mourning of the loss of the future she and Jeff had dreamed for him. She recalls dropping to her knees in an initial angry prayer  “I was so angry that such a tender, spiritual soul was given this difficult trial. The answer I received was loud and clear, and He scolded me right back! Our Heavenly Parents sent Gavin to earth exactly as they had planned. There was no mistake, no surprise. He also let me know that I had been prepared to be an LGBTQ mom and that my experiences up to this point were to prepare me for this.” Natalie found immediate comfort from a fellow Lift & Love mama with a gay son who has now become a dear friend, and she has also felt the stress and anxiety melt away with the motto: “JUST LOVE and let God worry about the rest.” 

 Now thriving in St. George, Utah, Gavin is now a sought-after tennis coach and pre-med student at Dixie State with plans to become a psychiatrist so that he can help others who struggle. He has started dating and has hopes for a spouse and a family of his own. Natalie is grateful he’s been blessed with a new group of amazing friends who love her son just as he is. “While we watch this amazing generation of kids love, accept, and defend the marginalized, I frequently recall the words by Tom Christofferson in his book That We May Be One: ‘Perhaps because this generation has a particularly strong ability to love generously those who are least like them, these are the souls the Lord has saved to break down the final barriers to preaching His gospel to all the Nations’.” 

At this time, Jeff and Natalie describe their feelings around the church as a work in progress.  “We thought we were doing everything right. Our hearts broke when Gavin recounted the shame he felt on many, if not most, Sundays.  He worried about what his orientation would do to our eternal family.” Gavin’s hardest day was when he walked into a seminary class and the teacher had written “Homosexuality is a Sin” in large letters across the board. Natalie recalls that “Gavin sat through a very painful lesson and then went straight to his car and made a plan to finally commit suicide. This shattered us. As she reflects back, Natalie says she now feels shame over things like primary songs about hoping to be called on a mission or going to the temple someday. “I wish I could go back and say to that darling, tender Gavin that those are not requirements for love or happiness. How could something that we thought was so helpful and beneficial be so painful to our son that he would want to die?” Like so many parents in similar positions, Natalie says that while they support Gavin stepping away from the church for his mental health, “We can’t help but mourn for the loss of what gifts he could have provided to others inside this church.”

While Natalie says she and Jeff would find it much easier to also step away, they keep feeling the call to stay and speak up for now. She senses the needed changes in the church won’t happen if all the faithful LGBTQ families leave, saying, “There is space for everyone who wants to worship Christ, and we can only make space for them on our pew if we are there. We are the opposite of lazy learners or lax disciples. We are not worried about our eternal family in the slightest. True eternal success won’t be because of a temple recommend; it will be because we LOVED unconditionally.” 

At the start of their journey, the Koffords met with a beloved mental health counselor, and when they told him their son is gay, he said “Congratulations!” They were at first caught off guard by this, but now they fully understand what he meant. “Our hearts have expanded more than we ever thought possible. Our love and empathy for the marginalized or struggling know no bounds. We have met the most amazing LGBTQ kids, parents and families. We see beautiful rainbows where there used to be only black and white.” Natalie knows her family is better off because of Gavin, and advocates that all parents everywhere should tell their small children frequently that “you love them no matter what, and nothing they could do or be would ever change that.” For parents who are walking the same unique path as she and Jeff, Natalie’s favorite advice to give now echoes that profound notion she first received, “Just Love.”

The Mortensen Family

In St. George, Utah, the Mortensen home is filled with artwork by 16-year-old daughter, Sydney: drawings from her childhood as well as some incredibly meaningful works she’s gifted her parents, Jill and Marc, and siblings Mitchell (13) and Ava (10) over the years. Two of her pieces also permanently reside in the friendship circle room of St. George’s Encircle house, where the Mortensen family is now a staple.

As tweens, when Sydney’s friends were all developing crushes on boys, Sydney pretended to have a crush on a boy, too, in an attempt to fit in. But in the eighth grade, a cute freshman girl caught her eye and Sydney found herself in “an almost trance-like state, staring at her for much longer than I realized. I felt so embarrassed for feeling the way I did.” Sydney ran into the locker room where she sat, alone, for several minutes with the realization that she was attracted to girls. 

Sydney hid her attraction to girls for several more months. Having grown up in the LDS church, she was taught same sex relationships were sinful. Her mother Jill recalls Sydney pretending to be sick every Sunday to avoid going to church. “The weeks she did attend, the trauma, shame and anxiety she felt was so intense, she would hide in the bathroom during lessons or sit outside in the car. At the time, I just attributed her not wanting to go to teenage rebellion. I had no idea the pain she was experiencing.”

A couple years prior to Syd coming out, Jill felt an undeniable prompting to become an ally and get involved with the LGBTQ community. She feels her visible efforts contributed to Sydney’s feeling safe in coming out. “That night, I felt honored to have the sacred opportunity to fully know and embrace all of the unique and beautiful aspects of this remarkable daughter of mine. I poured my heart out in prayer asking for guidance as we embarked on this unfamiliar path together. Many tears were shed as I knew she would inevitably face a new set of challenges as part of a marginalized group. I felt a strong, clear impression that I needed to be willing to protect her at all costs, even if that meant stepping away from our church community where she was experiencing so much trauma.” Jill and Marc don’t take their call to being Sydney’s parents lightly. “Our family has been entrusted to nurture, love and protect one of His most precious rainbow spirits during this earthly existence. Syd knows we always have her back. We love her unconditionally and want her to experience the joy of dating and falling in love. She has a darling girlfriend who makes her incredibly happy. We love having her over and we consider her part of our family.”

Having been on the receiving end of bullying and discrimination, Sydney feels an intense desire to look out for those experiencing the same. She is a longtime volunteer at both the local animal shelter and community resource center, where for five years she has organized a winter coat drive for families experiencing homelessness. Jill says Sydney is truly an example of “succoring the weak, lifting up the hands which hang down, and strengthening the feeble knees.”

Jill wants LDS church leaders to know that “there are thousands of families just like ours: Families who come from generations of faithful members born and raised in the church, who’ve dedicated their lives to serving in callings, attending meetings and other activities. Families who trusted in the teachings of our divinely led leaders, who believed, with all their hearts, that they would live forever with their Eternal Family according to the Great Plan of Happiness, until the day they learned their family no longer fits the plan. And then what? Doctrine that once brought our family so much comfort and joy is now our greatest source of pain. We don’t belong here. We don’t belong anywhere. And so we mourn. Alone. There is no plan in place to save families like ours. Let’s push for further light and knowledge regarding our LGBTQ family members.”

Jill has perceived that loneliness for families like hers can often be felt in the ward dynamic: “Our amazing, service-oriented community immediately springs into action whenever a visible need arises within the ward. When someone has a baby, is in the hospital, or experiences the loss of a loved one, we rally -- organizing meals, childcare, cleaning, rides. We attend to their needs better than anyone. But when someone has a child come out as LGBTQ, experiences a faith transition, is struggling with addiction, mental health, separation from a spouse, or any number of invisible, yet equally painful traumas, we are noticeably absent. Silent suffering is just as valid and worthy of our attention, love and understanding.” 

 What can members do to improve in this area? Jill pleads, “We just need to start showing up. Yes, it will be awkward, messy, and imperfect but do it anyway. Send a text, write a note, make a call. Anything. Just reach out and let people know they aren’t alone, that you see them, that you want them to know how important your family is to them. Ask how you can support them. Let’s meet people where they are, without any expectation of them returning to church. Respect and honor their decision to leave and trust that it wasn’t a decision that was reached without deep feelings of guilt, shame, grief, pain, fear, uncertainty and loss. Let’s abandon unkind assumptions or judgements about individuals and families who find it necessary to step away. Instead, let’s deepen our commitment to ensuring no one walks alone, even when their path takes them away from the church. Especially when their path takes them away from the church.” 

While Jill says she has often felt abandoned by the church she once loved, “I’ve never felt abandoned by my heavenly parents and my beloved Savior. My relationship with them and my desire to live and love as the Savior did is stronger than ever before. This experience has given me greater empathy and compassion for my brothers and sisters on the margins. The space I share with my LGBTQ family and friends is holy, sacred. I feel closest to the Divine when I am in their presence.” 

As for other families experiencing similar journeys, Jill wants them to know “there is a vibrant, thriving community of families just like yours who will wholeheartedly embrace you, share your heartache and your joy. You are loved, your LGBTQ child is loved, and regardless of where your path leads, trust that you will never walk alone.”  

The Campbell Family

“I want Shelby to live a life that she loves.  I want her to have a relationship with God and feel His love every day. I want her to find a life partner, have a fulfilling career, and just be happy.” These wishes for a child could be echoed by just about any mother in the world. Only for Becky Campbell, she would also love “for the Church to find a better way to include families like mine, whatever that looks like.”

For Becky, a “family like mine” includes husband of 21 years, Dave, who works in information technology for the Associated Press, and children Shelby (19), Tessa (10), Christian (10), and Lilly (9). They live in Herriman, Utah, where Becky works as a medical transcriptionist, freelance photographer, and also stays quite busy taking care of everyone. One thing that sets the Campbell family apart from many in the church is something that Becky says has only brought them closer together: their love and support of transgender daughter, Shelby. “I know that each of our kids has been sent to our family so we could learn from each other. Having a transgender child has been a life-changing learning experience in the best way. Even though we have lots of differences within our family, we are in this together. Family means nobody gets left behind.” 

Shelby currently studies Music Production at SLCC. She plays the piano and guitar and records her own music. “Shelby is incredibly empathetic. She feels her emotions deeply and expresses herself beautifully through music,” says her mother. Shelby also values honesty and authenticity, and inspires those qualities in others. Becky says Shelby’s younger siblings “adore her -- they have a special relationship. And she keeps us laughing constantly.” 

Shortly before her 17th birthday, Shelby came out to her parents. She started medical and social (mtf) transition in spring of 2020, before coming out to her extended family and the world in September of 2020.

Becky now belongs to our “amazing” online support group for LDS parents of LGBTQ kids, and she values the advice of friends in similar situations who have helped her acknowledge that Shelby is the same person her family has always known her to be. “I think the best advice is to ask Heavenly Father how best to help and love your child.”

When it comes to the church, Becky says she would love for leadership to acknowledge that LGBTQ people and their families are “part of the church and that we matter. I want them to see us. I would love for policies regarding LGBTQ people to be more inclusive. I'd love to hear stories and talks where we acknowledge our LGBTQ loved ones.” For everyone else, she offers this advice: “If someone you love comes out as LGBTQ, please let them know you accept them and care about them regardless of what their church activity looks like.  Be interested in their lives and accomplishments, especially when it doesn't look like the typical LDS ‘covenant path’ timeline.”

Through loving Shelby unconditionally, Becky says, “I've felt a tiny slice of the love that I know Jesus feels for each of us. I don't love my children because of anything that they accomplish or what I think they could be in the future. I love them exactly as they are, today. I think this kind of love is the Savior's greatest gift to us.”

*** Much thanks to the Campbell family for sharing their story. We’d love to feature your (LGBTQ) family in our weekly Lift & Love at Home profiles! Please dm us. #liftandloveathome #liftandloveorg

The Winget Family

“You only need to do two things: love your family and trust me.” These were the divine words whispered into Robyn Winget’s heart when praying for guidance shortly after her then 27-year-old son Taylor came out two years ago. Luckily, Robyn knew it would be easy to do just that.

Now an empty nester living with her husband Jim in Eagle, Idaho, Robyn relished being a full-time mother of three and now loves it even more when they come home: Taylor and his husband Dallon, daughter Kaitlyn and her husband Tyler, and their son Parker who is engaged to be married in June. Robyn is looking forward to having three successful weddings under her belt, and for her equally supportive party-planning mother: three successful engagement parties for her grandchildren. Jim and Robyn appreciate how their extended family love and support all of their children. Everyone came to Taylor and Dallon’s wedding, and no one has ever said, “I love you but—” 

Taylor was already (quietly) dating his would-be husband, Dallon, at the time he confidently came out and told his parents he is gay, just a week after General Conference 2018. While Robyn and Jim were sorrowful over the pain he had lived with alone for years, Taylor’s coming out was a positive “we are going to be fine” experience for their entire family. For two years prior, Robyn had felt stirrings inside, a quiet preparatory voice that asked, “What would you do if one of your kids came out?” But Robyn already knew that child would be met with nothing but love. 

Taylor and Dallon are a Tinder success story and highly compatible – both returned missionaries raised in active, supportive LDS families. The couple now lives in South Jordan, UT where Taylor, a BYU graduate, works as a marketing project manager at BioFire and part-time as a realtor, which is Dallon’s full-time occupation. The two love to travel, work out, and bring the fun to family gatherings. Robyn says Taylor is “wickedly funny” with an apt quote from The Office for every occasion. 

Growing up, Taylor was a happy kid who played lacrosse and had a lot of friends... (cont'd in comments) 

Robyn says, “He was very obedient and my most temple-attending child. He thought if he did everything right, the Lord would ‘fix him’.” It was in the temple during his 20s that Taylor said he received a comforting personal revelation of his own, after asking his Heavenly Father if it would be okay for him to live his life as an openly gay man. The impressions he received were, “Man is not meant to be alone,” and “Men are that they might have joy.” 

While Taylor and Dallon claim they love the church and do not harbor bitter feelings, they “recognize this is probably not going to be a path for us” as living in a legal union precludes a gay couple from partaking of the sacrament. Robyn appreciates that the young bishop who lives in their neighborhood shows them genuine love and regularly invites them to church meetings and activities (they occasionally attend), by saying: “We want you with us. We are stronger with you.” 

When Taylor first came out, the first words from Robyn’s bishop’s mouth were, “I can’t imagine the amount of pain he has been in for the past years.” That response, and the fact that he and his wife came to Taylor’s wedding, has always stuck with Robyn as true discipleship. Her bishop also teaches, “We need to make the uncomfortable comfortable.” Robyn agrees, reasoning that if you are uncomfortable with another’s path, you need to get to know them better and make that your role. She is “grateful these remarkable leaders have lived their baptismal covenant: ‘to bear one another’s burdens’ which literally means to support us. To say, ‘I love you, but I can’t support you’ is not bearing one another’s burdens.” 

Robyn also appreciates it when members ask about her gay son’s marriage and life just like they inquire about her straight children. But when the occasional offensive comment or question comes her way, Robyn recognizes, “I can’t get angry with people for not knowing what they do not yet know.”  

The Winget family relies on the teachings of their prophet, President Nelson, who emphasizes the power and necessity of personal revelation. 

They are grateful for their experience to lift and love Taylor (who lifts and loves them right back), because they say they’ve learned great lessons they wouldn’t have otherwise. Robyn has met new friends on church pews who have confided their own struggles, feeling comfortable because her family also doesn’t “fit the mold.” 

Robyn is a temple worker, where she has felt the divine, godly love of a perfect Heavenly Father who, in a sacred experience, has conveyed He loves her and her entire family more than mortals can comprehend. That is her focus for the eternities. And for the now, she says she could not be more pleased with all Taylor has accomplished – he’s happy, in a committed marriage with a partner he loves, and he loves his family. Robyn takes great comfort in her eternal perspective: “I can’t imagine heaven without my family, and I know in my heart that won’t be the case.”

 ***

If you’re willing to share your family’s story in a Lift and Love at Home profile, please dm us! #liftandlove #liftandloveathome

The McAlpin Family

From a young age, Gavin was exceptionally artistic and bright. As he grew, he brought strategy and size to a football field, but often preferred solo activities, like Legos. I noticed dances and dating didn’t appeal to him, but I was never quite sure why. 

Then during the pandemic, while the whole world hunkered down and sheltered in place, Gavin came out. One night at 3 a.m., he walked in our room and told my husband and I that he is gay. That he’d been suffering from severe depression after trying to “fix it” and feeling “broken” for years. That some of the church’s teachings and unkind comments over the years had been very damaging to his mental health. He knew he’d always be loved at home, but also knew it would be a tough road made tougher by coming out during his junior year of high school among a highly LDS population that hasn’t made it easy for him. But Gavin said if he could just “change one person’s mind about LGBTQ people, then it would be worth it.”

Gavin is now contemplating college options and we are contemplating if visiting him in his new town at least once a month will be too obnoxious. We are all hopeful for these next chapters as he pursues a career, new relationships, and one day, a family of his own. Regardless of what his future holds, he knows he always has this family by his side.

Life shifted for us, but it didn’t shatter. I feel like I’ve entered a Masterclass in which I’m honored to be a part, primarily because the teacher is the Master Himself. Rather than a one-size-fits-all manual, I now rely on the compass of personal revelation. And in this forum, I sit among some of the best company I’ve ever kept – stalwart saints and sinners just like me who love our LGBTQ+ family and friends deeply and widely and loudly -- and for the long haul. 

We’re excited to announce this new feature: Lift & Love at Home. I’m Autumn McAlpin from San Clemente, CA. I’m Michael’s wife and mama bear to Alex, Gavin, Blake and Gracie. Each week, I’ll be introducing a new family – a rainbow family like ours. We’re excited to embrace new friends and stories as we recognize that it’s so much easier to lift and love up close.