Gather 2025

This weekend was the third annual Gather Conference for LGBTQIA+ Latter-day Saints. This conference started at a time in my life when I really needed it, and I'm happy I've been able to attend every year so far. 

This conference, hosted by Lift + Love, is more identity affirming than organizations like North Star and more faith affirming than organizations like Affirmation. I would describe the vibe of this conference as "We love Jesus, even though we might have reservations about the institution and its policies." 

So here is a rundown of my experiences at this year's conference.

On Friday, June 27, I drove down to Provo and checked in at the Utah Valley Convention Center. It was good to see various friends I've met before: Scott, Jeremy, Calvin, Sam, Samuel, and Ryan. A gay math professor from BYU–Hawaii, who is in a mixed-orientation marriage, introduced himself to me. I got my badge, and I felt unreasonably guilty that I didn't reuse my lanyard from last year. I wasn't going to get the free tote bag, since I had mine from last year, but it came with a free journal, so I decided to take it—I write in my journal every day, so I will definitely use a new journal.

I was also happy to see Steven E. Snow, an emeritus General Authority Seventy who was Church Historian during my first stint at the Church History Department (2014–2017). He recently had a story featured on the Lift + Love website about supporting his gay granddaughters. I introduced myself to him and thanked him for telling his story; he told me he remembered me.

In previous years, I noticed that the convention center had a "custodial" sign with a lowercase l or uppercase I, instead of a capital L. But they have fixed it!

2023 . . .

. . . versus 2025

I sat with my friend Ryan for the Friday morning session. We first heard from Jennifer Finlayson-Fife, who talked about different kinds of ways people behave in relationships, like some people will just react in a way to avoid conflict in their relationships. To be honest, I can't really do justice to her presentation, because I had a hard time paying attention. I suppose there were just a lot of things running through my mind, since it was the first session of the conference.

Then we heard from the artist J. Kirk Richards, who has many paintings of rainbow-colored Jesus or churches. He shared that in the early 1830s, Latter-day Saints eschewed dancing, based on their surrounding culture, but by the time Brigham Young led the exodus in 1847, dancing had been elevated to a sacred thing (D&C 136:28)—the implication being that things that once seem evil can actually be holy.

Then there was a discussion with a trans woman named Jessica and a trans-masc nonbinary person named Ben. They both shared that they felt divinely directed and approved in transitioning. Ben said, "God isn't throwing lightning bolts at us, he's throwing love."

Then there was a lunch break, and I had some good discussions with Ryan.

In the afternoon, we were in breakout sessions. I attended the LGB+ session. For this one, we got into groups of six and introduced ourselves. Then we did an activity where we individually spoke for four minutes about the deep questions on our minds. Then there was a minute of silence, and then the group had two minutes to respond. We did this last year as well, and it's good to feel validated that we worry about the same things. I was the oldest person in my group, and we had bi men and women and gay men and women, as well as one ally. After the exercise, a guy with Benson Boone–style hair in the next group over told me that he saw me being an active listener (eye contact and nodding), which was surprising, because I didn't realize I appeared as such. (The next day, he said hi and told his friend "This guy is amazing," but he doesn't even know me!)

I helped put chairs back in place, and then I had dinner with my friend David and an ally named Christina. 

Then we went back to the convention center for a live recording of All Out in the Open, which is a podcast that replaced the Questions from the Closet podcast. I don't like All Out in the Open as much as Questions from the Closet; the episodes are longer and less engaging. But it's all right, because I have less podcast time these days, and I don't need the podcast like I did in 2022. It was a good opportunity to consume the rainbow suckers they put in our bags.

I returned on Saturday morning for another full day of sessions.

First we heard an interview of Bishop Karen P. Oliveto (with Tim and Aubrey Chaves of the Faith Matters podcast). She was the first openly lesbian bishop (married to a woman) of the United Methodist Church, and I really enjoyed her presentation. She embraces uncertainty in faith. She talked about a "ministry of vomit." When she would attend public events wearing a clergy collar, people would make assumptions about who she was. But when she would open up about who she was, people would "vomit" all of their trauma and pain on her, because they had never had the opportunity to do that before. As she was a gay bishop in rural places, there was a mantra that went around: "If you want to keep hating on the bishop, don't meet her."

Then they introduced Carol Lynn Pearson, the poet who cared for her gay ex-husband in the 1980s when he was dying of AIDS. I don't think I had heard of her until three years ago, and I guess that's a generational thing, because she got a standing ovation before she even said anything. I was surprised to learn she was born in the 1930s, because she was so alert and lively that I pegged her as much younger. She talked about Mormon pioneers, that those of us in this LGBTQ+ space are modern-day pioneers, but we haven't yet arrived where we can say "This is the place." I loved her messaging and poetic mind, and I'm interested in historical memory of pioneers, so I loved her talk. 

Then they had a series of shorter talks representing the different letters of LGBTQIA+. A Lesbian named Alisha talked about mustard seeds and said that "seeds are to be listened to," not instructed. If a seed isn't growing or flourishing, we need to pay attention to what the plant needs, not tell it it needs to grow like other seeds in the garden. A Gay man said, "We didn't choose to be gay, we just got lucky." There was another Gay man, a former mission president named Travis married to a woman. He said that if people are disappointed in us, the responsibility for that disappointment is with the people who created the expectation. Often if people are disappointed in us, we are expected to fix things we didn't cause. An Aromantic Asexual (aroace) woman named Abigail talked about horrible things people say about aro and ace people. Her message made me really annoyed that some places say LGBTIQ rather than LGBTQIA. An Intersex Trans woman talked about being a practicing doctor. A Bisexual woman named Jennifer cleared up misconceptions about bi people. A Queer (gay) man named Joe began his words by quoting President Monson: "Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved." Joe had a strained relationship with his brother, who hated anything Church related. But he reconciled with his brother, and the brother got a tattoo of the Monson quote. 

We had another lunch break, and my friend Ron happened to be outside the convention center (he couldn't attend). I got lunch on my own before I returned for the afternoon breakout sessions.

I opted to attend a session with two therapists, Eric (my therapist, though I don't go to therapy anymore) and Lisa. Lisa wrote the Primary song "Nephi's Courage" with her husband, and now she works at Flourish, which is devoted to therapy for the queer community. One woman said that her sister is a therapist, and all the studies show that queer people have better mental health when they live according to their identity, so how do you reconcile that with Church teachings that go against that? Lisa said there is no reconciliation, so she opts not to pay tithing, even though she teaches Relief Society. She also said that there is stigma against therapy, so people in therapy should say something like "I'm not the one with the problem, I go to therapy so I can deal with society."

Then I went to a session moderated by Tom Christofferson, and the topic was how to navigate individual Church journeys. There was some discussion of leadership roulette; one woman said that when she told her bishop she intended to date women—not that she had dated women, not that she was engaged or anything—he took away her temple recommend. But another woman, a high-profile lesbian who recently divorced her husband, said that her bishop was very understanding, and when she was suicidal, her bishop told her, "God would rather have you get divorced than dead."

During this session (which was packed), there was a (presumably) neurodivergent teenager in the lobby who was making funny, high-pitched noises that sounded like "Ba-bo, ba-bo," over and over. It almost sounded like bird calls. Synesthetically, I would describe the sounds as blue ovals. 

And the final "session" was a mini concert of the Lower Lights, the supergroup of local folk musicians that sings hymns and gospel songs. They formed in the early 2010s, and I became aware of them because I love Cherie Call, one of the singers. Listening to the Lower Lights in Provo, it felt like 2013 again! I have seen them at least thirteen times before, including their annual Christmas concerts, and they're always a great time. My friend David had not heard them before, and he loved them.

And then, it was over. It was two great days of learning and growing and thinking. I found it less healing for me this time—but only because I have healed in many ways, so I have less healing left to do. The most important part of these conferences is making and renewing connections.

To close this post, here are a multitude of reasons I reject the Church's current LGBTQIA+ teachings and policies:

• As a young person, the message I got was that I was inherently bad if I was attracted to boys. The messaging has changed over the course of my life (thankfully), so if it has changed already, why can't it change more? The current messaging is "It's OK as long as you don't act on it." But "just don't act on it" is always going to make people feel broken or defective. I don't see how it could not.
• More and more people are coming out—young people are coming out as teenagers, and older people in mixed-orientation marriages are coming out, and everyone in between is coming out. As long as the messaging is simultaneously "You need to fall in love and get married" and also "You're not allowed to fall in love and get married," this issue is not going to go away—no matter how many times you throw a family proclamation at it.
• The people who make the rules for gay and trans people are themselves neither gay nor trans. And the people who are obsessed with enforcing the rules are neither gay nor trans.
• The Family Proclamation (which isn't even canonized) says, "Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose." Since 2019, Church leaders have said that "gender" here means sex at birth. But here's the thing: Intersex people exist. There are people whose sex at birth, their physical body, is not quite male or female. If everyone's sex at birth is their eternal gender, then gender is not a binary in eternity. But if eternal gender is a binary, and intersex people are an exception in mortality, why can't trans people be an exception in mortality as well?
• Even if it is true that everyone's sex at birth is their eternal gender, why do they have to live according to their eternal gender in mortality? We don't tell people, "You will have perfect vision in the Resurrection, so you can't have corrective eye surgery in mortality," or "You will have all your limbs in eternity, so don't use a prosthetic on earth."
• One of Dallin H. Oaks's pet ideas is that queer people should "take the long view," meaning they should live in the way that will take them to the best version of eternity as taught by the Church. But we know virtually nothing about eternity. So in reality, "taking the long view" means to think about living with inner conflict and tension for decades and decades, just to gain rewards in an eternity that may or may not exist. For many people, this just makes them want to skip mortality and go straight to eternity.
• There are many things the Church used to teach were sins, or at least not good, such as interracial marriage, mothers working outside the home, and women wearing pants in public. These things are no longer taught (thankfully!).
• The Family Proclamation emphasizes a particular kind of nuclear family, with a mother, father, and children. This is a great kind of family; it's the family I come from. But I worry that this emphasis can be hurtful for people with different kinds of families. That includes not just queer families but any family that has been touched by death, divorce, adoption, and other circumstances. 
• The scriptures are full of family structures that do not follow this pattern. On the cross, Jesus told Mary and John "Behold thy mother" and "behold thy son." Ruth and Naomi had no obligation to stick together. Abraham and others practiced polygamy. And the family of Jacob/Israel was anything but traditional.
• In grad school, I had a very lesbian professor who talked about her children and grandchildren. Then I think about straight people I know who are terrible parents. I can guarantee that my lesbian professor's family life is more stable and loving than that of some straight people I know. There are so many loving families with two moms or two dads. Does God really think the righteous thing is to split these families apart?
• Anti-LGBTQ ideas are often framed as "defending the family." But they don't "defend the family" at all. If I marry a man, it will not negatively impact anyone else or their family.
• You know what are actual threats to the family? When people feel forced to enter mixed-orientation marriages that end in divorce and heartbreak. When people are murdered for being who they are. When people die by suicide because they don't see a place for themselves. When people are disowned by their families for being who they are.
• A man paying for a female prostitute is very different from a man and a woman getting married, and the Church rightfully distinguishes between them. A man paying for a male prostitute is also very different from a man marrying a man, yet the Church lumps them together—and if anything, it treats the marriage as the worse thing.
• If God's plan can be thwarted by two dudes getting hitched, then God's plan is incredibly fragile.
• In my anecdotal observation, LGBTQ+ folks are among the most devout Church members. For example, in one of my YSA wards, someone told me that another individual in the ward was the best person in the ward, and then I was next. (Those weren't his exact words, but that was the gist.) I wasn't offended, because I agreed that the other person was the best person in the ward. But it turns out that individual is also gay. What does it say that the best people in our wards are gay, and then there's not a place for the best people?
• The expectation for straight people is to get married. The expectation for gay people is to stay single. There is already a rule that applies to straight people that doesn't apply to gay people. So if we already have rules that apply to some and not to others, what if the rule that "marriage is only between a man and a woman" is also a rule that applies to straight people but not to gay people?
  
• The rule that "marriage is only between a man and a woman" seems to exist only because gay people exist. Why would God create gay people, and then make a rule that they can’t be in love, even as everyone else is encouraged to be? Or why would he make a rule, then create people whose natural orientation is to go against it? And if he did make such a rule, why would I think that such a being was merciful and good and worthy of my worship? Boyd K. Packer himself acknowledged this when he said "Why would our Heavenly Father do that to anyone?"
• In the early days of the Church, they practiced many kinds of sealings. People were sealed to each other not just as marriages but in various relationships. Many of these were known as adoption sealings, where grown men could be sealed to Church leaders. I don't know what the reality of sealings will be, but I think there's room for a more expansive vision of sealings than the one we have today.

Faith, Doubt, and Queerness

Two years ago today, I came out as gay on this blog, and a year ago, I commemorated my anniversary. 

For National Coming Out Day this year, I thought I would get extra vulnerable by sharing more of my story and explaining why I came out when I did.

I suppose that my brutal honesty will make some of my readers uncomfortable.

A Crisis of Faith

In January 2022, I began an internship with the Church History Department. It was the last semester of my history master's program at the University of Utah, and I was doing the internship for credit. I had previously worked for the department from 2014 to 2017, and I was thrilled to be back.

On Valentine's Day 2022, as I was doing my work, this thought came into my mind: There's no way this can possibly be true. That's very inconvenient for you, but you know that's right.

That was a devastating thought. But what made it especially devastating was that I believed I had received revelation to go to grad school and to quit dating a girl. This new thought felt the same as those earlier thoughts. So if those earlier thoughts had been right—and I believe they were—then this new thought was also right. On the other hand, if this new thought was not right, then how did I know that the earlier thoughts were revelation? In either case, it was not faith affirming. I had entered what is commonly known as a faith crisis.

What I want to make perfectly clear is that this was through no fault of my own. I think there's a tendency among Latter-day Saints to assume that if someone loses their faith, it's because they quit reading scriptures or praying or going to church, or they were committing some serious sin, or they were hanging out with the wrong people. None of that was true in my case. In fact, I probably was more devoted in doing all the things than the average Church member (and I have continued to do so to the present).

I thought, "Well, I guess I can't stay here now. I better quit my internship and find another job." But then I said to myself, "Now, now, that's a very big decision. Your internship lasts another eleven months, which gives you plenty of time to think about this."

After a few agonizing days, I decided to look on FAIR for answers to my questions. I was less interested in what the answers were; I was just relieved that there were answers. I thought, "Phew, the crisis is averted. I now have more empathy for people who leave the Church, but I'm good to go now."

But really, it was just the beginning of a spiritual rollercoaster. 

One compounding factor was that I was still in denial about my orientation. In February 2022, when I believed I had averted the faith crisis, I went to lunch with some colleagues, and we were talking about dating. I still planned on marrying a woman, and I remarked that I felt hopeless about dating. I felt hopeless because I didn't have any prospects, and in the back of my mind I knew it wasn't a realistic expectation.

I was very honest with myself and made four very personal lists: things I like about staying in the Church, things I don't like about staying, things I would like if I left, and things I would not like if I left. By far my biggest list was things I like about staying. But that did not negate the very real things I would like about leaving.

For the first time in my life, I began seriously considering what my life would look like if I left the Church. I realized that if I left, I wouldn't want a wife. I read accounts of straight men who left, and they would say, "I'm so glad I had my wife to help me get through that." But for me, having a wife would be a liability rather than an asset. And that made me realize that even staying in the Church, I don't want a wife.

I had a heavy cloud of uneasiness hanging over me for much of 2022, even in settings that should have been joyful: Easter Sunday, graduation, family reunion, concerts, Labor Day. Faith is supposed to sustain you during hard times, so what do you do when your faith is your hard time? I think a faith crisis is hard for anyone, but there were a few factors that made it especially hard for me:

• I was working for the Church in a job I loved, so I couldn't get away.
• I'm gay, so there are very real consequences for the way I live my life.
• I aged out of the YSA ward right before the pandemic and then went to grad school, which left me socially isolated.

I became desperate for perspectives and ideas, so I consumed books, blogs, articles, and podcasts. Some of them were more helpful than others, and I have listed some of my favorites below. But there are two that stick out to me as especially helpful in my journey.

Metamorphoses

One of these sources was a column by Jana Riess entitled "Dear Mormons in a faith crisis: You're not crazy, wrong or stupid." In this article, Riess explains that when caterpillars become butterflies, it is ostensibly beautiful, yet the reality is much more uncomfortable. Caterpillars digest themselves into a primordial soup and become something completely new. She compared it to a faith crisis, and she advised, "Rather than focusing right now on a particular outcome, just notice the changes that are happening to you, and marvel."

And I certainly have gone through some important changes. The most directly relevant change is the way I view faith. I have come to realize that I am by nature a skeptical person, and I have been since at least high school. I know that may be surprising because of my intense religious devotion, but it's true. As far back as 2010 and 2011, I remember listening to Christmas and Easter songs about Jesus and thinking, "Do I really believe this?" That was discouraging to me. But now I believe that doubt is, or at least can be, a normal and healthy part of faith. I think 1 Corinthians 12 and Doctrine and Covenants 46 imply that it's OK for some people to have a harder time believing.

Of course, another important change was coming to terms with my orientation. It really was not realistic or sustainable for me to remain in denial forever. In fact, I'm a little surprised it took as long as it did.

But there was still another important change. As I did a lot of soul-searching and attended therapy, I had to confront ways I think about myself. Why am I so hard on myself? Why do I think my opinions don't matter? Why do I think everyone hates me? Why do I sabotage my relationships and friendships? This is an ongoing process.

 Stages of Faith

Another important source was a Faith Matters podcast with Brian McLaren. In this podcast, McLaren outlines four stages of faith that people can go through: simplicity, complexity, perplexity, and harmony. (This podcast also included a line that stopped me in my tracks, and I had to write it down: "You have to take adult responsibility for yourself, and you have to say, 'I am giving myself permission to belong here and to love these people, even though the written documents and the authority figures don't approve of me.'") He also gave a similar presentation in 2022's Restore gathering. These four stages of faith are not inherently better or worse than the others, and they can be cyclical. I had been thrust from a complexity stage into a perplexity stage, and I desperately hoped for the harmony stage to arrive. 

I kind of had an epiphany at Christmastime in 2022 seeing all the nativities on Temple Square. Christianity has been around for two thousand years, and it has taken off all over the world. It clearly fills a human need. I also reread the Book of Mormon, and I was struck by what a profound, insightful book it is. 

As I thought about every problem in Mormonism, I also spent time thinking about problems in other belief systems. I have little to no respect for hostile, militant atheists. Please let me be clear: I am not talking about atheism itself. I am talking about a particular brand of atheism that takes every opportunity to make fun of religion, that implies they're smarter than any religious person, and that thinks religion is the cause of the world's problems. If we really are accidental assemblages of molecules in a meaningless universe, then religion is still part of the human experience. It is just as bad to be mean to someone for being religious as it is to be mean to someone for being gay.

Similarly, I think that exmormon Reddit, exmormon.org, and similar forums are hate groups. That's not to say they don't have valid criticisms. Believe me, as a gay Mormon historian, I am well aware of problems in the Church, past and present. But many members of these groups assume the worst motives for anything Latter-day Saints do, and they overemphasize the negative. They even distort neutral and positive things to make them appear negative. For example: Years ago, Elder Renlund lost a lot of weight. He made a social media post explaining that President Nelson encouraged people to make positive changes in their lives, so he started dieting and exercising and lost weight. I came across an /r/exmormon post where people were saying things like "Rusty forced him to lose weight." They were taking one man's personal success story and turning it into something sinister and worthy of ridicule. I have numerous examples, and I could easily find more. These groups foment hatred, and they often do so in manipulative, less-than-honest ways—even as they accuse the Church of being manipulative and less than honest.

I think I have mostly arrived at the harmony stage. I no longer thirst for the podcasts and books like I used to, and many of the things that used to trigger me don't anymore. In my current stage of faith, I am not concerned with whether or not the Church is "true." Like, what does that even mean, and how could I actually know that? I'm more interested in whether the Church is good, beautiful, and useful. And I believe it is, or at least can be—for straight people.

The Queer Dilemma

Unfortunately, current Latter-day Saint theology does not yet include a place or an explanation for queer people, and our present leaders seem more interested in using their current understanding as a weapon against us than they are in figuring out where we fit.

It is very clear to me that Church leaders don't know what they're doing on this topic. In 2010, Boyd K. Packer gave a talk where he implied being gay was a choice, and then he had to revise it because he didn't know what he was talking about. (In the excised portion, he said, "Why would our Heavenly Father do that to anyone?"—thereby acknowledging that a merciful God would not do this. He just got it wrong where the problem is.) In November 2015, they implemented the infamous policy of exclusion, then reversed it less than four years later. And in 2021, Dallin H. Oaks said that electroshock conversion therapy did not happen at BYU during his administration—which is demonstrably false. I don't think he was deliberately lying, but it does tell me that he doesn't know as much as he thinks he does.

The Church used to teach that being gay was a choice, that it could be "fixed," and that mixed-orientation marriages were the solution. If those things were true, then it would make more sense to prohibit same-sex marriage. But the Church no longer teaches those things (at least not officially), which makes the prohibition on same-sex marriage seem needlessly cruel. When so much has changed already, even in a short amount of time, why should I believe that where the teachings are right now is where they're supposed to be?

For those of us who question or reject the Church's LGBTQ+ teachings, it's not that we're trying to justify sin. We want to do what's right, but we don't see a way to do that under the current practices. In a religion that so strongly encourages family and marriage, surely committing to singlehood can't be right. And most mixed-orientation marriages end in divorce, which Jesus specifically condemned. I feel like I'm being punished for simply existing.

I have seen the hurt resulting from Church teachings, policies, and rhetoric, both past and present. When I was a youth, I thought that if I was thinking about men, it was Satan tempting me. And I also inherited a folk belief somewhere that Satan didn't have power to tempt people in the temple. So if I was at the temple doing baptisms for the dead and was attracted to a guy, then I was inherently evil, because Satan couldn't tempt me there.

And it's not just about me. I think about the person younger than me who told his mission president he was gay, and then he was sent home because the mission president worried he was a threat to the other missionaries, and he went to conversion therapy and had to flick himself with a rubber band and make himself throw up. I think about the once-stalwart Peter Priesthood whose shame and internalized homophobia led him to the seedy underworld of gay hookup apps. I think about all the mixed-orientation marriages that either ended in divorce or are barely holding on—I can name eight that I know personally. And I think about all the suicidal ideation my friends have been through.

I truly believe that Dallin H. Oaks cares more about his personal interpretation of the Family Proclamation than he cares about people. I see it in the way he talks about the Proclamation, the way he talks about queer people, the way he talks about law, the way he has historically talked about the two great commandments, and the way he dismisses anyone who disagrees as apostate, unconverted, or unbelieving. As a lawyer, he seems to view everyone as an opponent he needs to win an argument against. Since he never served as a missionary, bishop, or mission president, he missed opportunities to develop the empathy that those callings engender. I do not see him mourning with those that mourn, comforting those that need comfort, or making others' burdens lighter.

I am terrified for him to become President of the Church. Will he canonize the Proclamation?* Will he make it a temple recommend question that you only support marriage between a man and a woman? Will he make the entire Church follow the BYU honor code of no same-sex romantic behavior, such as dating or holding hands? Will he "pack the Supreme Court" by only picking Apostles who think like him?

*(For what it's worth, I don't necessarily object to the text of the Proclamation itself. But I strongly object to the way it is interpreted, applied, and weaponized.)

I enjoy participating in and contributing to my ward. I also know that statistically, most gay people leave the Church, in one way or another, at some point. For example, in the mid-2010s, they implemented the Mormon and Gay website, with videos of people's experiences. Today, most of the videos have been taken down, because the people in them have entered same-sex relationships. If they expect us gays to be single our whole lives, they'll have to give us a better incentive than being second-class citizens in both the Church and the celestial kingdom, and they'll have to give us a better explanation than "This is the way it is because we say so." If President Oaks does not tone down his harsh, us-versus-them rhetoric, I might have to take a break when he becomes President of the Church.

Resources

I thought I would list some of the books, blogs, and podcasts that have been helpful for me in my journey. (These are helpful for my personal worldview. Others might help people in different situations. And there are many books that I haven't read, because I don't feel the need to read them like I did in 2022.)

Beyond the Block podcast.

Bushman, Richard Lyman. Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling. Alfred A. Knopf, 2005.

By Common Consent blog. Especially the post "Empathy in the Back Seat."

Dirkmaat, Gerrit J., and Michael Hubbard MacKay. Let's Talk about the Translation of the Book of Mormon. Deseret Book, 2023.

Faith Matters.

Flunking Sainthood column. Especially the posts "Dear Mormons in a faith crisis: You're not crazy, wrong or stupid" and "Mormonism's Tortured Genius."

Lift+Love. (I have made several friendships through their LGBTQ+ adult support group.)

Mason, Patrick Q. Planted: Belief and Belonging in an Age of Doubt. Deseret Book, 2015.

Mason, Patrick Q. Restoration: God's Call to the 21st-Century World. Faith Matters, 2020.

McConkie, Thomas Wirthlin. Navigating Mormon Faith Crisis: A Simple Developmental Map. Sun Print Solutions, 2015.

Mormon Land podcast. (This has been a favorite of mine since 2018.)

Mormonr. (They have the best memes on social media.)

Questions from the Closet podcast. (They just rebranded as All Out in the Open.)

Schilaty, Ben. A Walk in My Shoes: Questions I'm Often Asked as a Gay Latter-day Saint. Deseret Book, 2021.

Rees, Robert A., ed. Why I Stay: The Challenges of Discipleship in Contemporary Mormonism. Signature Books, 2011.

Rees, Robert A., ed. Why I Stay 2: The Challenges of Discipleship for Contemporary Mormons. Signature Books, 2021.

Reeve, W. Paul. Let's Talk About Race and Priesthood. Deseret Book, 2023.

Times and Seasons blog.

Wayfare magazine. (I do copyediting for them, and being part of the Wayfare team has been so good for my soul.)

Closing

This post only scratches the surface of my thoughts and experiences. If you have questions, feel free to reach out.

As with my other posts, I ask that you not share links to my blog online; and if you want to share it with a specific individual, please ask me first.

Take care!

Gather 2024

As most of you know, I have been on a journey for the last two and a half years as I grapple with what it means to be a gay Latter-day Saint. (If you're new here, you can check out my coming-out post and my anniversary post.) 

Fortunately for me, my journey has coincided with the beginnings of Faith Matters' Restore gathering (which I attended last week) and Lift+Love's Gather conference, which I attended this weekend. Gather, which I also attended last year, is specifically devoted to the queer Latter-day Saint experience, and it has a more middle-of-the-road approach than some other organizations. Just as I did with last week's Restore conference, I thought I would describe the conference and my experiences there. (Note: when I discuss personal interactions I had with people, I am avoiding using their names because I don't want to embarrass them. So if I'm talking about you, I want you to know I love you and appreciate you!)

On Friday morning, I drove down to Provo listening to my Halloween playlist early, since it was Friday the 13th. I saw some people I had previously met online, and I sat with one of them for the morning session. The first speaker was Greg Peterson, the president of Salt Lake Community College. He talked about BYU and SLCC, how BYU is exclusive and SLCC accepts all applicants, and there are different implications for each model. He compared that to building Zion. Do we have an exclusive concept of Zion, or one that allows everyone who wants to be there?

Then we heard from Jenn Blosil, an alumna of American Idol who realized she is just not into men but is currently choosing to keep her covenants. She performed "All Are Alike unto God," which Janice Kapp Perry cowrote with Meghan Decker for last year's Gather.

Liv Mendoza Haynes is a queer woman married to a man, even though she isn't really attracted to men, and they have a son with another on the way. I honestly don't remember a lot about her presentation. But she finished her presentation by saying that Jesus didn't suffer for the LGBTQ+ experience, because the LGBTQ+ experience is something to rejoice in.

David Butler spoke at last week's Restore, and he spoke again this time. He is like a standup comedian. He told a story that he once painted an amateur picture of Jesus that turned out terrible and he was super ashamed and embarrassed about. When his son saw the picture, he said, "That's not my Jesus." He explained that we sometimes have a picture of Jesus that doesn't match up with the Jesus that appears in the scriptures. And he told the story of the young men taking their paralyzed friend to Jesus through the roof. ("Church is boring. I wish someone would cut a hole in the roof during church," he quipped.) He explained that there are different ways to come to Jesus.

During the lunch break, I got food with three men who are in mixed-orientation marriages. 

For the afternoon session, we met in breakout groups, and I went to the LGBQ+ group. (The other groups were for gender identity, family members, and allies.) They had us get in groups of six and discuss the deep questions on our minds. For me, the deep questions are that I don't know what my future holds or what I want out of my future. Another man in the group is a BYU employee, and he is frustrated with the harsh messaging from Church leaders. He was specifically thinking of Elder Holland's musket talk, for which he was in attendance three years ago. But he can't say too much, because he doesn't want to get fired from BYU just before he retires.

Then Friday evening was a bonus event that was a live recording of the Questions from the Closet podcast, hosted by Charlie Bird and Ben Schilaty. That podcast has been very helpful for me as I have navigated everything, and I listened to every episode in 2022. (It helped that I was doing tedious things at work where I had to listen to podcasts to keep from dying of boredom.) They announced that QftC as we know it is coming to an end. 

Instead, they are rebranding as All Out in the Open, and they are going to rotate hosts. I really feel happy for them, because it didn't seem sustainable for them to do so many episodes all the time. Then I chatted with some people before heading home for the evening.

On Saturday morning, we heard from Nori Gomez, a Dreamer, an undocumented migrant whose family moved from Venezuela when she was four years old. The idea was to watch out for marginalized people, but I thought it was a stretch to have her at an LGBTQ+ event.

Lisa Diamond, a psychology professor at the University of Utah, spoke next. She talked about social safety. As human beings, we evolved to value connection, because being alone in prehistoric times literally meant death. To have social safety, it doesn't necessarily mean that our friends and family agree or even understand. But we need to know that we matter and are unconditionally loved. She showed a graph of trans people, queer cisgender people, and straight people and the places where people always feel safe. Perhaps not surprisingly, church is the lowest place where people feel safe.

She talked about maintaining friendships, that we need to be safe harbors for other people. But we also need to ask people if they will be our safe harbors. One thing I pondered a lot during the conference is why I struggle to make and maintain friendships and relationships. I think there are a variety of factors. For one thing, I'm an introvert and am content to be on my own. For another, I think that if people like me, then they have poor taste, and why would I want to hang out with people with such poor taste?

Steven Kapp Perry introduced a new song, "When We Gather," which was based on the story of the two disciples on the way to Emmaus, and it had a brief interlude of "Come Come Ye Saints."

Then there was a panel with two same-sex couples who have been married about a year. Charlie Bird and Ryan Clifford are a very famous couple, and Michelle and Rachel Barnard-Crosland were previously married to men and had children. All four of these panelists attend church still, and they talked about how they felt like God told them to move forward with their marriages. (Earlier this year, the unscrupulous folks at Mormon Stories sent spies to Ryan and Charlie's ward to see if they take the sacrament. Charlie alluded to this without specifically saying what happened.)

During the lunch break, I got food at the farmer's market, and I stopped at Pioneer Book on Provo's Center Street. They have a giant section of Mormon books, and my brain kept screaming "historiography!" I was surprised to see them displaying this ten-year-old niche book, Exploring Book of Mormon Lands, about Andrew Jenson's 1923 trip to South America. During my last few months in Provo in 2014, I spent my days in the BYU library checking the sources in the footnotes. (It was my job. I wasn't a weirdo doing that for fun.)

And I had to find it a little ironic that here I was attending a Latter-day Saint LGBTQ+ conference while I looked at this giant stack of Spencer W. Kimball's Miracle of Forgiveness, which is notorious for saying hurtful and harmful things about gay people. They no longer make this book. But when I worked at the Church Distribution center back in 2010 and 2011—which wasn't that long ago—it was still a book that people could (and did) order through the Church's online store, even though it's a publication of Deseret Book, not the Church itself. (We used headsets that would tell us what products to put in the boxes for online orders, and the computer voice always called it "Miracle of for-jive-ness.")

And I was bemused that they had Timothy Ballard's books under "nonfiction," even though his "history" writings might as well be. And, of course—Tim Ballard. 😬😬😬

In the afternoon session, we heard from a British couple who do something with FSY (formerly EFY) in the UK. They shared a video of a couple who works with them who are both bi. Of all the presentations, I think this was the most devotional and orthodox. They talked about how much they love the current discourse around the covenant path. I was surprised they would talk about that, because the "covenant path" rhetoric can be very triggering for those of us in this space (myself included). 

Perhaps the most devastating presentation was by Michael Soto, a trans man, and his genderqueer guest whose name I don't have. Michael explained that the "trans agenda" is an average life expectancy. He shared the heartbreaking statistic that the average lifespan for women is eighty, that of men is seventy-five, but the best estimate (which is flawed) for trans women is thirty-five. 35! And he shared the brutal ways that trans people die. 

There has been a dramatic uptick in antiqueer legislation in recent years. 

And most trans people are satisfied with their gender-affirming treatments. 

This presentation was the hardest one to hear because it was so tragic. I have certainly had to work through transphobia in my life.

Then there was a panel with Lisa Valentine Clark, Allison Dayton, and Jordon Sharp about being parents of queer kids. Allison said that there is no faith stronger than when people come to church when they know they're not wanted. Lisa said that we are not building Zion when people feel excluded and leave. During this panel, I couldn't help but feel sad for teenage Mark. I was a super weird, sad, lonely kid. There are a variety of factors for this, but being gay was certainly a major influence. 

We also heard from a man named Kainoa Clark, and it was his first time coming out publicly. But I don't remember what else he said.

I met a woman on Friday, and she sat by me in the afternoon session. She was attending from California and recently started a gay–straight alliance at the school where she teaches. She felt she had to come attend in light of the new trans policies. She was attending as an ally. But she told me technically she is bisexual—and she had only ever told her husband. Then she got emotional after sharing that with me.

For the closing activity of the conference, we assembled period kits for teen centers throughout Utah. (I organized a similar project with hygiene kits for my ward!) As a squeamish gay man, I am very naive about the female body, and I want to keep it that way, so the "ick" factor almost kept me away. But it was good to contribute.

In so many ways, this conference felt like a typical Latter-day Saint fireside. There were hymns and prayers and talks about Jesus. Much of it felt like it could have been a Deseret Book meeting. But as I talked to individuals, so many people are struggling and really having a hard time navigating this intersection of faith and orientation. We don't fit the blueprint, and there really isn't a clear path for us (or a "right" path for us). 

Now, the best part of any conference is making connections and meeting people. I could listen to motivational speeches anywhere online. But it's so good to find new friends and reconnect with old ones. This conference felt like you could just be friends with anyone and they would understand the messiness of our lives. I'm grateful for the new friends I made and the old friendships I added to.

I have a very kind friend who I met in an online Lift+Love group two days after I came out two years ago, and he invited me to dinner with some local ally friends. But this morning, I was astonished to receive a notification that someone commented on a picture I posted on the Seen@BYU Facebook page back in 2011. The new notification was spam. But lo and behold, my friend had commented on the post way back in 2011, eleven years before I met him! And I was especially amazed that I figured this out on the day I was going to see him. So that was a fun connection.

***

OK, since this post had some heavy things, I thought I would end with pumpkinundation roundup, Gather edition! These are mostly things I got in my time in Provo. 

This Lee's Marketplace Pumpkindoodle was at the dinner I went to here locally. It was OK. It didn't seem very pumpkiny. 6/10.

I went to dinner with two other gay guys on Saturday, and I got this Back Door BRGR Grumpy Claire Burger. It has a savory caramel apple sauce below the beef. The caramel apple sauce had apple chunks in a sweet-ish sauce—not sweet like candy, but sweeter than is typical on a burger. I really enjoyed the burger; I didn't necessarily notice the caramel apple sauce when I ate everything together. 8/10.

I forgot the name of the vendor where I bought this pumpkin spice macaron. I think macarons are unreasonably priced, but I really enjoyed this one. 8/10.

In Utah, we use the word "scone" to refer to frybread, but this Dat Sour Dough Maple Pumpkin Spice Sourdough Scone is not that kind of scone. I think this is the first time I have ever had this kind of scone. I wasn't impressed with this particular one. It was dense and not very flavorful. And it was made with "pumpkin spice," not pumpkin, and yet even the spices weren't that noticeable. 4/10.

This Fresh Market Caramel Apple Fritter is their doughnut of the month, but I think it's just an apple fritter with a caramel drizzle, so it's not very interesting, and I've never loved apple fritters anyway. 5/10.

Sub Zero Ice Cream is a place that uses liquid nitrogen to instantly freeze cream into ice cream, and I went to one in East Wenatchee, Washington, back in 2008. At the Provo location, I had this Sub Zero Green Caramel Apple Ice Cream. It was very artificial tasting, like a knockoff Jolly Rancher, which I thought clashed with the cream. 4/10.

And I was eager to try the Sub Zero Ginger Pear Ice Cream, because I would love to see pear embraced as a fall flavor. I liked the textural contribution of the almonds. But I didn't really taste pear. I just tasted ginger. 6/10.

Restore, Year 3

This past Friday and Saturday was the third annual Restore gathering put on by Faith Matters. Since I'm on Faith Matters' payroll (without getting paid) because of my work on Wayfare magazine, I got free admission, and I invited my mom, since it seemed like something she would enjoy. Faith Matters tackles big questions of religion and the human experience from a devoted, but sometimes questioning or unsatisfied, Latter-day Saint perspective.

The conference consisted of various presentations, interspersed with musical numbers and poetry. (I don't much care for poetry, but I can appreciate that it speaks to other people.)

I thought I would describe the various presentations and proceedings of the conference. But I didn't take many notes, so I suppose that the presenters would disagree with how I distilled their messages.

Friday morning, Terryl Givens talked about the universe and how all the atoms led to people who could create Michelangelo's Pietà. He talked about the amazing coincidence that the sun and the moon are about the same size in the sky, allowing eclipses, and our place in the galaxy that allows us to view the galaxy. And he talked about how evolution proceeds in a way that fixes problems. Star-nosed moles and naked mole rats have body parts (star nose and giant teeth) that give these animals strong senses to make up for their lack of sight. And bats, birds, and insects all developed flight independently of each other.

Eboo Patel is a Muslim man who talked about religious diversity and how we can embrace different religious traditions, that American religious diversity is like a potluck. He told a story that when he was ten years old, he was embarrassed to go to a birthday party with his own beef hot dogs, since he couldn't eat the pork hot dogs that were being served, and there was another kid, a Jewish kid, who brought his own beef hot dogs to the party—and he felt less alone. Jazz, blues, rock and roll, and hip-hop are examples of things that came about from bringing different cultural elements together. He talked about President Nelson's "Peacemakers Needed" talk.

(In February 2023, Dallin H. Oaks spoke in Chicago and said we should try "to strengthen our unity—not to glorify our diversity." I was astonished that, of all possible topics, he would choose to criticize diversity. Like, what the heck?! I wasn't the only person who felt this way, because a few days later, they removed the video from the Church website, and they sent out a Churchwide email that said, "We all come from different backgrounds and have unique experiences that can be used to build Zion right where we are." I have other thoughts about this, but they aren't very peacemaking.)

Joseph Grenney established the Other Side Academy, which is meant to provide opportunities for criminals to reform and turn their lives around. He talked about this two years ago. It's very inspiring, and it's also discomforting. I tend to lack charity for criminals, and he shows how they have inherent goodness that needs a chance to flourish. But in this talk, he was specifically talking about the "ideal family," which doesn't exist. And the perfect family doesn't exist in the scriptures either. 

Elizabeth Oldfield is a British woman who converted to Christianity as a young adult, then reverted to atheism, then returned to Christianity. I enjoyed hearing her experiences.

During the lunch break, I got my copy of Gracing, a new book published by Faith Matters. It is written by a biologist and has an expansive definition of grace. I actually copyedited this book earlier this year, and it was a lovely book. (And unlike with Wayfare, they paid me for this one.)

In the afternoon, Pete Davis talked about choosing what we devote our time to. He said something along the lines of saying no to something is saying yes to something else. But I might be conflating his talk with a work training earlier this year. I didn't take any notes of his speech. 

Jennifer Finlayson-Fife discussed how to talk to your kids about sex, which of course doesn't apply to my situation.

David Butler talked about the valuable contributions of different religions of the world. I wish I had taken notes, because it was a good (and funny) talk.

They had a young-adult session, but we didn't attend that one. You can't watch everything worthwhile, y'know?

We went back on Saturday, and we heard from Thomas McConkie, who is kind of a hippie type who has a Buddhist background before he returned to the Mormonism of his youth. He described how as adults, we experience a stimulus (a sound, a feeling, etc.,), and then we create a narrative around that sensation. But children and babies just experience the stimulus without all the different stories surrounding us. He invited us to experience these stimuli without all the extra stories we tell ourselves, just experience being like a child would. (I may be grossly mischaracterizing his message.)

Neylan McBaine and Val Hamaker talked about the problems with patriarchy in the Church, that there are so many opportunities that women don't have to lead and where their voices aren't heard. They pointed out that patriarchy hurts men too, because men are expected to always be strong. (Personally, I strongly feel that women should be Sunday School presidents, ward clerks, and executive secretaries, especially since they used to be ward clerks.) This talk was very popular with the audience and had a lot of spontaneous applause. I didn't disagree with it, but I was surprised that of all the presentations, this was the one that got all the enthusiasm.

Mauli Bonner, a filmmaker and musician, told a harrowing story where he saw a woman carrying a baby on the street in the middle of the night, and he felt an impression to watch out for the baby. So he ended up giving the couple and the baby a ride to try to take them to a hotel, but there was no room at any hotel, so he loaned them his car. Then they crashed his car. Spoiler alert: it turned out that they had actually abducted the baby, who was unharmed and returned to its parents, but the couple fled the hospital. His lesson was specifically not that if we have faith it will all work out. But I don't remember what the lesson was.

Jared Halverson, a BYU professor, talked about "proving contraries." The beams of the cross run perpendicular to each other, not parallel to each other, and we have to embrace the seemingly contradictory elements of the two great commandments. But if you have to err on a side, you should err on the side that will be able to be more easily corrected. For example, if someone is suicidal, you should err on the side to prevent suicide.

Then Mallory Everton (of Studio C fame) and Diana Brown talked about being single in a marriage-focused church. They were amusing and entertaining, and of course I can relate. There are many people who say things that are less than empathetic to single people. But I honestly don't remember a lot of what they said. Maybe I should start listening to their podcast. They shared AI images of what they imagined their ideal husbands would be when they were young.

Then in the afternoon session, they had a conversation between John Gustav-Wrathall, a gay Boomer married to a man, and Allison Dayton, the founder of Lift+Love. John attends church actively, even though he is technically no longer a member. He read the Book of Mormon with his non–Latter-day Saint husband, who said, "This book is so good. Why don't they live it?" He said that the Church is people, so if you want the Church to support LGBTQ folx, then the people who support LGBTQ folx can't leave. But he said that there is a difference between pain and discomfort, which applies both in yoga and in church. If you experience pain, you should pull back; but if you experience discomfort, you should lean into it. This presentation was also well received.

Astrid Tuminez, the president of Utah Valley University, talked about her experiences gleaned from Catholicism, Eastern religions, and Mormonism. 

S. Michael Wilcox talked about embracing religious ideas. He said the question was never about which religion is most true, but which religion has goodness, truth, and beauty and is spiritually mature. He talked about a compass, the kind of compass you use to draw circles. You should have one foot fixed in the religion that will have you (which can change if needed), but then you have a searching foot that embraces the truths of other religions.

Patrick Mason, a history professor at Utah State University, talked about peacemaking and building communities. To prepare for peace, we should be like spiders building webs of relationships: be anchored, spin our webs, and then be sticky. I really admire Patrick Mason and his work, but I didn't love the metaphor that compared us to predators. I saw him walking in the lobby at the beginning of the day, and I considered introducing myself as a fellow historian, but the insecure introvert in me won out.

Jennifer Thomas talked about her work with the organization Mormon Women for Ethical Government, which is based on the principles of the Sermon on the Mount: "blessed are the peacemakers" and "love thy neighbor." MWEG is 37 percent Democrat, 40 percent Republican, and 23 percent Independent. I always pegged them as more left-leaning, so those statistics surprised me. But since Mormon women in the US tend to lean right in general, MWEG's more balanced demographic inherently means it leans more left than the general Church membership.

I saw various people I know from different corners of my life, so that was fun. I said hi to a few people I don't know super well, because forming connections is one of the best things about attending conferences.

This is the third time I've been, and it's been worth it every time. I highly recommend it.

And this was just the beginning of a very busy September!

And I felt weird including my silly AI dream images after a description of this conference. But more than one presenter used silly AI images, so I feel justified.

Mark's bicycle tire is flat and sprays it's slime out, so he doesn't know what to do with his bike now (I usually create these prompts on my phone, and my phone likes to "correct" its to it's.) 

Mark watches an old episode of "The Munsters" to analyze its gender attitudes

a policeman says a gun is not loaded for demonstration purposes, but then bullets fall out of it

Rick plays Mark's music at Grandma Judy's house

Mark reads a comic strip that says an underrated instrument is the air-music vegetable

Jen shares peppermint Andes mints with popping candy, and Mark says, "It's like.a fireworks show in my mouth"

Mark walks past a booth where historians are showing old coins

Mark and his family play a month-themed driving game, and Mark drives off the cliff during the April portion

Mark gives dog treats to his sister's two dogs in a steep hill

Mark is on a boat with his history colleagues, and one colleague holds a yellow hooded snake

Restore, Year 2

I enjoyed some more fall happenings this week, such as autumnal trails and our fourth batch of grape juice this year. I can't ever recall having that many grapes! Often we're lucky to get one batch.

We bottled some of the third batch of juice so we can have it at Thanksgiving

But the real highlight of the week was the second annual Restore Gathering by Faith Matters on Friday and Saturday, which I also attended last year. Faith Matters is largely geared toward progressive/nuanced/intellectual Latter-day Saints from a faithful perspective. Wayfare magazine is one of the projects they work on. I paid to register for Restore, and immediately the executive director refunded my money because of my work on Wayfare. 

There were a variety of speakers, musicians, and poets. I don't care for poetry, so I could have done without those, but I'm glad other people enjoy it. I'm going to share some of the highlights from the conference (I think it would bore you, and me, if I shared everything).

Friday morning had a conversation with Governor Spencer Cox and his initiative to "disagree better" during a polarized climate. I'm glad Cox got the Republican nomination in 2020. When I think of him and his fellow Republicans, I think of a line from The Nightmare before Christmas: he's "the only one who makes any sense around this insane asylum!"

Jared Halverson talked about helping minister to people going through faith crises. It's important to see the individual who is struggling and listen to them.

My favorite part about Friday was hearing from Brandon Flowers, the lead singer of the Killers. He started by singing two songs from the album Pressure Machine, which is about the town of Nephi. (I have that album in my Pioneer Day playlist.) He is a wonderful wonderful singer. (See what I did there?) He chatted with Patrick Mason, and he talked about hymns. He quoted the second verse of "Lord, I Would Follow Thee" (my favorite hymn) and said, "That's better than Lennon-McCartney!" Then he sang a country song written by his great-grandma that Slim Whitman recorded in 1955. (I'm familiar with Slim Whitman because I bought a CD of his Irish songs for my St. Patrick's Day playlist. How many of my playlists can I mention in this post?) 

On Saturday morning, George Handley talked about being good stewards of the planet. That was right before they let us take a break to go out and see the partial eclipse. It just looked like a C in the sky. I was a little disappointed that I couldn't join my parents to see the total annular eclipse in Flowell, but I was glad to be at Restore.

Eclipse shadows on my hoodie. Do you like looking up my nose?

There was a young singer named Emma Nissen. There are so many talented but generic singers that I was expecting her to be one of them, but she was surprisingly talented and soulful. Not what I was expecting from a white girl of Swedish ancestry.

Fiona Givens talked about her own grapples with faith in light of children being killed in Africa and the story of the Egyptians' firstborns dying. It was refreshing to hear an honest perspective of difficult topics. 

The only one I didn't really care for was Jennifer-Finlayson Fife, who deals with relationships and sexuality. That doesn't apply to my situation, and I get that; not everything has to be about me or for me. But she showed a long video about her widowed mother taking dance lessons. It didn't seem to have to do with anything she was saying. It felt like she wanted to show the video and had to make a stretch to get it to fit.

Daryl Davis (not a Latter-day Saint) is a Black man who used to play piano for Chuck Berry. His message was about listening to different people to change hearts. He has befriended multiple members of the KKK, even attending their rallies, and they ended up revoking their racist associations. And he ended his presentation by playing a boogie-woogie piano number. His was a wonderful presentation.

Peter Enns (also not a Latter-day Saint) gave a mindblowing presentation on the scale of the universe. He read Psalm 19 and talked about the way David in the Old Testament viewed the universe. Then he updated Psalm 19 for how it should read according to our current understanding. I found this presentation especially fascinating and thought provoking.

The conference ended with a performance by Millennial Choirs and Orchestra. (I have their Easter album in my Easter playlist.) I don't ordinarily love choral/classical/orchestral music. But they were tremendously talented, and it was stunning to hear music like that in just an event venue.

It was a wonderful conference, and I look forward to next year. I met some new friends and saw some old ones. (I even saw one who I haven't seen in four years who still complimented my Spotify holiday playlists.)

Then tonight my blog is up later than usual in part because I was making pizza. For the topping, I used yellow squash, tomatoes, and green pepper from my mom's garden. And I made the sauce using tomatoes and mint leaves from the garden.

***

There were a few items I forgot to include in last week's pumpkinundation roundup, so here they are.

There's an interesting phenomenon with Spiced Pumpkin Pie Clif Bars. I often buy boxes in the fall, but then trail season ends. Then when trail season resumes, I take them with me. So they remind me of spring and early summer almost as much as they do fall. They have nice spices; there's a reason I buy them every year. 7/10.

I got this pumpkin cookie at a church function; it's ordinary. 7/10.

The same function had Panera Autumn Squash Soup, which was pleasant, as long as you enjoy squash. 7/10.

Kirkland Signature Pumpkin Streusel Muffins are OK. They're not worth the calories. 6/10.

While I'm still catching up, I might as well include the things I reviewed for The Impulsive Buy this summer:

Sour Patch Kids Apple Harvest aren't very sour at all, and they just kind of taste weird. Disappointing. 6/10.

Brach's Fall Festival Candy Corn was a pleasant collection of flavors, though I did think they were more appropriate for summer: kettle corn, caramel apple, cotton candy, lemonade shake-up, strawberry funnel cake, and lemon-lime snowcone. 8/10.

Now I can proceed to this week:

The Dirty Dough Pumpkinella Cheesecake Cookie is my first time at Dirty Dough, one of the companies that Crumbl was suing. It's a pumpkin cookie with Nutella topping and cheesecake filling. I think I was distracted while I was eating it, because I don't remember much about its flavor. So I guess it can't be that amazing? But I really liked its texture. 7/10.

Skinnydipped Pumpkin Spice Almonds taste more like ginger than anything else. And I feel like ginger is an optional ingredient in pumpkin spice. They're OK. I do appreciate that they're not as "indulgent" as more traditional pumpkin pie almonds. 6/10.

I like supporting North Salt Lake businesses, so I was happy to have a JJ Donuts Pumpkin Cream Cheese Donut. The donut is pumpkin spice with a cream cheese topping. It was good but not exceptional. 7/10.

Private Selection Harvest Apple Spiced Apple Snack Mix is better than most mixes that have apples in them. The apples here are chewy, in a good way. I especially like the cinnamon pecans. 7/10.

The Sodalicious Pumpkin Spice Cookie is a snickerdoodle with pumpkin frosting. And the frosting has an authentic pumpkin flavor, instead of just fake spices like so many other things. 8/10.

I was disappointed with the Wendy's Pumpkin Spice Frosty. At this time of year, there are so many ice creams and shakes with actual pumpkin. A Frosty isn't quite either of those things, but it was still disappointing that there wasn't any pumpkin that I could tell. It was just spices, and it reminded me of a candle scent. 6/10.

I honestly don't remember much about my experience with Trader Joe's Pumpkin Overnight Oats. The oats seemed chewier than I'm accustomed to, though I've never had packaged overnight oats like this. (What does that even mean?) The flavor was fine, I think? 7/10.