LDS or LGBTQ? Can I be authentically both?
Saint George Utah Temple by Krista Payne Photography, from LDS Living, “22 Magical Photos of Rainbows Outside Temples”
For some LGBTQ people raised as Latter-day Saints, coming out to themselves as LGBTQ can feel like a moment of decision between these two parts of their identities. But letting go of either one feels to some like truncating a part of themselves. Here are two points of view from Charlie Bird and Blaire Ostler:
Charlie Bird, author of Without the Mask and former BYU mascot, said:
I had spent years [feeling] I was constantly being ripped in two. [Now] the two seemingly opposite, contrary forces inside me often feel complementary and interconnected. The Spirit has helped me hold on to and honor both parts of who I am, even though the world often suggests they are contradictory.
I used to think I had to pick a side. In my binary mindset, I looked at the intersection of my faith and my orientation as an issue of “good and bad,” when in reality it was an issue of “me and me.” Like yin and yang, two parts of one whole, both [are] important aspects of who [I am]. Being gay and being a child of God aren’t mutually exclusive, because they exist simultaneously in [me]. (Charlie Bird, Without the Mask).
Philosopher Blaire Ostler explores this as well:
Mormonism is an essential and vital characteristic of my personal identity. It is as intimately bound to me as my sexual orientation. Asking me to choose between my Mormonism and sexual orientation is to strip me of essential aspects of my sense of self. It is quite literally an existential death. If I cannot be queer and Mormon here on earth, nor in the eternities, what I’m really hearing is there is no way for me to authentically exist. In fact, in a very real way it means I don’t exist at all according to my community, or to exist as a Mormon I must contort myself into a caricature that suits the tastes of the community. Furthermore, if there is such a thing as being Mormon and queer on earth it has been made clear by ecclesiastical authority that I cannot be queer and sealed to my loved ones in the highest degree of celestial glory.
It hurts. It hurts deeply.
I don’t know if I have the words to describe the pain of being rejected eternally by those I love most because of my gender and sexual orientation. Jesus said to turn the other cheek and I do my best to follow that teaching, but at some point a girl must move out of the line of fire.
The prevailing message is “You don’t exist in this world or in the next. Your best option is to die and hope to be greeted by a merciful God who will change you into something you’re not. Suicide will only be your first death, God’s transfiguration of your body and soul into a ‘perfected celestial being’ will be your second death. Then you will truly no longer exist.”
I have friends. While some of them don’t really understand what I’m experiencing, they are willing to listen. They aren’t perfect, but neither am I. One thing I have found helpful is not to ask more of them than they are willing to give—set realistic expectations. This is particularly true of my straight friends. If you are a straight friend, please don’t get defensive when your queer friend comes to you looking for commiseration, don’t defend your religious institution, and don’t explain your intensions. Instead listen and find one aspect of your queer friend’s concerns you can sympathize with.
I have activism. My story is my activism. My voice. My journal. My experience. My pen. The continuation of my existence is my activism. Activism need not be epic to be influential. Existing is a good start. They will never accept us if they don’t have to look at us. Queer suicide allows fear and ignorance to win over love and understanding. For better or worse, I’m too competitive to lose without resistance.
I have God. Even with faith, trust, and hope, there are hard days. There will still be deep, existential sorrow. There are times when it will be difficult to breath, when the crushing weight of pessimism suffocates you. Yet, discouragement need not kill hope. “But since we are of the day, let us be sober, having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and as a helmet, the hope of salvation.” 1 Thessalonians 5:8 (NASB) (Blaire Ostler, "More than a Statistic", emphasis added, posted with permission. Also check out her book, Queer Mormon Theology: An Introduction).
What do you think? Is it possible to be authentically LDS and LGBTQ?
-Marci