Rainbows in the Temple

I've been doing a lot of thinking the last couple of weeks with it being my first Pride Month out of the closet. (A year ago at this time, I was still questioning and trying to convince myself I was on the ace spectrum.)

On Tuesday, I attended my ward's temple night, which was sealings. It was my first time performing proxy sealings since the beginning of the pandemic—which also means it was my first time doing them while fully acknowledging I'm gay.

I'm relieved that I no longer plan to bring a woman to the altar of the temple. But as I observed the ordinance, I couldn't help but think, "This was not made for me."

The room was all white and gold. But then I looked up at the chandelier. The crystals of the chandelier were acting as prisms, which meant there were rainbows in them—the only splashes of color in the room. And I saw myself! The people who designed the temple might not have put me there. But God did.

Being a gay Latter-day Saint is tricky because, like Adam and Eve, every choice I make is the wrong one. (I could have said Eve and Adam, but I decided to keep it in alphabetical order.) Staying single is the wrong decision, because we're told how great and important it is to get married and have a family. Marrying a man is the wrong decision, because I will be punished for violating the narrow application of a 1995 document.

And marrying a woman is the wrong decision, because it would not be a happy marriage for either of us. As I have met more people who are or were in mixed-orientation marriages, I have become more convinced it's not the best option for me, and probably not for most other people either. As a single man, I love that I can come home from work and do whatever I want, whether that's running, shopping, or anything else. I think if I were married to a woman, I would feel bad doing those things, because I would feel like I should be caring for my wife's emotional needs instead, and I wouldn't really want her to tag along with me. If I had a husband, I might want him to do those things with me, and even if he didn't, I wouldn't feel bad doing them, because I know I would choose to spend time with him when I was done. 

This principle of impossible choices in the Latter-gay Saint world was illustrated this week. For the last few years, the biggest voices in this space are that of Charlie Bird and Ben Schilaty, both of whom have books published by Deseret Book and cohost the Questions from the Closet podcast. (Last year, Questions from the Closet dethroned Mormon Land as my favorite podcast. I have listened to every episode—last summer, I had to do a lot of tedious things for my job, so I listened to lots of podcast episodes.)

Last week, Charlie announced that he is engaged to his longterm boyfriend, which also means that he is pulling his books from Deseret Book. (His second book was self-published—and as a professional editor, I can tell. Both of his books have a lot of bragging about how cool he is.) I have conflicting feelings about this. I am happy for Charlie and Ryan, and I probably would make the same choice under similar circumstances. As I said, all the decisions are wrong. But I can't help but feel sad for the rest of us. I don't think it's going to be helpful to have one of the few gay Mormon books pulled from Deseret Book. And his engagement is just another reminder of our impossible situation.

I'm not looking for a relationship right now, for a variety of reasons—one of them being that I have a multitude of deep-seated insecurities I need to work through.

Now, since I've talked about Charlie, I'll talk about Ben. He is my first-ever celebrity crush. I mean, he's a linguist who likes cats and Church history! In April 2022, I was feeling socially isolated after COVID and grad school, so I decided I needed to start going to activities with the mid-singles ward (I was still in the family ward at that point). The very first activity I found was a fireside with Ben Schilaty (who I didn't really know about at that point), so I went to it. Though I was still in denial, it was very inspiring and helpful and meaningful to me. And not only that, I had two friends in that ward, whom I will call M and S to preserve their privacy. Earlier that day, M, who I hadn't seen in years, was talking to someone about holidays, and she said, "I know this guy who really loves holidays." Then she said to S, "You should invite Mark to the fireside tonight," to which he said, "Mark's not going to want to come to a random fireside." So when I just happened to show up that night, they were shocked to see me, and they each assumed that the other person had invited me! I really felt like God was watching out for me that day, and I continued to reap the benefits of the fireside by learning about other resources.

I happened to see Ben on a tour of the Church History Library (my place of work) on my birthday, but I wasn't going to interrupt his tour. But I briefly talked to him at the Restore Gathering in October. His book is my favorite that I've read on this subject, and his experience resonates a lot with my own.

So why am I talking about all this? 

Well, there has been an uptick in anti-queer legislation, protests, and even violence. Trans people are being harrassed at stores. Factions are boycotting various businesses for showing support. Criminals are stealing Pride flags from people's homes. And there has been more serious violence. In November, a person who was raised LDS killed five people at a gay nightclub. And when the shooter's father learned that his child was at a gay club, he seemed more concerned that his child might be gay than that the child killed people. Even though the father was very much nonpracticing, he still said, "Mormons don’t do gay. We don’t do gay." People are literally dying because of our culture's treatment of the LGBTQIA+ community, whether it's by suicide or murder.

I hope that me being out of the closet can help to soften hearts and challenge the narrative about gay people being deviants or perverts or otherwise undesirable. We are your friends and family who you've known all along. 

And I really feel grateful that I'm in a place where I feel safe being out of the closet. I know some people live in more conservative places or have less accepting families. I have only felt love and support since coming out, though I can't help but wonder why certain people unfriended me or haven't responded to my texts. Though I first learned homophobic ideas from my mom (she once spoke disapprovingly of a billboard that said "Someone you know and love is gay" when I was around ten years old), she is very accepting and has become less homophobic than I was when I was still in the closet.

Here are some ways I have tried to be more open and visible:

• I mentioned being queer in my sacrament meeting talk in February. I got many compliments on my talk, but only one person specifically talked about the gay part. But last week at ward choir, one woman remarked, "There are more men here today. Why is that?" The choir director (a woman) said, "It's because I'm so alluring." Then she looked at me and said, "Sorry. Not for you."
• On Monday, I went to a ward picnic wearing the Pride shirt my sister got me for Christmas. I don't think I've ever received so many compliments on a t-shirt, and I was pleasantly surprised that it occurred at a church function. I must admit, I was really nervous to wear the shirt, and I felt a little uncomfortable talking to people while I was wearing it. But if there's someone else out there who is closeted (which is a good possibility), I hope I can signal that I'm a safe space.

• I have a Pride flag in my cubicle in the Church History Library, though only one coworker has talked to me about it (in a positive, affirming way). This week I wore my rainbow socks, and a different coworker told me she liked my socks. 
• When I started my state job, I put my pronouns (he/him/his) in my email signature. For many years, I resisted pronouns, because if someone guessed mine, they would be right. But then I learned that trans people appreciate seeing pronouns. And even though I'm 100 percent cisgender, if I see someone else sharing their pronouns, I can assume they would be a safe space for me as well.

Happy Pride Month!

(Note: One of the things that I have found surprisingly bothersome since my coming-out is when people shared my blog with other people without asking me first. If you feel like sharing my post with someone else, I would appreciate you asking me first. I will probably say yes. Thanks!)