With a sober mind, an earnest heart, and some measure of apprehension, I have carefully chosen this time to share with my friends and family that I am no longer actively participating in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Though I still retain my membership on official records, I have chosen to step away from the body of the Church in order to protect my own personal sanity, health, happiness, and wellbeing, which have all been immensely strained for the past several years as I’ve struggled to maintain a grip on the faith which, for so long, was the only sustaining power in my life. I have let go of what I had hoped could be, and have moved on to what I know I can have right now.
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| The sun has set upon who I once was, and the lifeless landscape through which I made my tiresome journey. |
Though it weighs heavily on my heart to make this announcement, nevertheless I am very grateful, honored, and overjoyed to also announce I am not stepping away from the body of the Saints with empty arms or an empty heart. For more than a year now I have been in an amazing long-term relationship with a wonderful man whom I care deeply about, and it is one of the best, most fulfilling decisions I’ve ever made in my life. We entered each other’s lives at just the right time for both of us, when we were each ready for the love and devotion that we had never before experienced, with the partner (and gender) of our choice. We could not have known then just how perfect of a match we would be, and how strong our bond would become.
Though our relationship took root very quickly, we have been content to spend as much time as possible growing and learning together and preparing our hearts for our future life as a couple. We are both very much in love and taking our relationship very seriously; however, we know that in a local culture of quick courtships and hasty marriages, we do not want to be like our peers, and we aim to do things right the first time. He is not going anywhere, and neither am I; this is not a fling or a temporary arrangement. This is more than he and I could’ve ever hoped for in our fondest dreams, and we are lucky and truly blessed to have each other. And I hope, someday, to be able to share our joy with the world, but it will be in our own time and in our own way.
Knowing that I cannot maintain this loving relationship and my membership in the Church simultaneously while remaining in “good standing” is the primary reason why I have been forced to make the difficult decision to separate myself from the Church. I wish it were not so that giving my whole heart to a caring and adoring man who loves me and makes me happy was a spiritual death sentence—an act of apostasy according to the doctrines and teachings of the Latter-day Saint Church. But that, unfortunately, is not something within my power to change. As Gandalf the Grey once said in J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic tale The Lord of the Rings, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” And the simple fact is that I have chosen love for the time that remains of my life on earth, and it has brought me newfound happiness.
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| Through the ensuing darkness, the light of a new hope still shone to guide me into unknown territory. |
I have witnessed many LGBTQ Latter-day Saints before me leave the Church; I have heard their stories, and I have long-anticipated the mixed reactions that will come from those who care about me—many of whom have traveled along with me on my personal path of faith, through my blog writing, social media posts, and candid, private discussions. Thus, I understand that this news will be taken in varying ways, based on your own personal feelings and experiences, and how well you feel you’ve gotten to know me. I am not asking anyone to feel a certain way about it; I’m not even asking anyone to understand, necessarily, because this is all immensely complicated. But I do wish to elaborate on three primary points that I feel are important, and at the same time set some clear boundaries for those who may want to show their support or express their love to me in the coming weeks.
Firstly, even though I’ve always spoken very openly and publicly about my life, faith, and sexuality, I don’t feel that I owe anything to anyone as I carry out these monumental life changes. Not an explanation. Not a reason. Not an apology. Nothing. Now—I know how harsh that sounds, and I don’t mean to come off as bitter and uncaring; but separating myself from other people’s feelings and opinions (something I’ve struggled to do all my life) is really the best way for me to approach this whole situation as I prepare for the mixture of positive and negative feedback from people who know me (because it will come).
I hate to say it, but I have put off my doubts and my longing for an intimate human connection for far too long, out of fear of how others would feel about it, rather than how I actually felt about it. I wanted a partner, and the Church was no longer bringing me joy; but I was afraid that others would stop loving and respecting me, and no doubt, some will. There will be those who will message, text, and call to wish me luck regardless of how they feel about my choices; some will be genuinely happy for me, and others will be unsure of their feelings. And that’s okay; this is still very new for me, too. But I know there will also be those who will contact me to express their disappointment and sadness, and will feel the need to recommend scriptures and General Conference talks, and to share their testimonies that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true, and they will bear witness that I am making a choice with immense eternal consequences.
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| In the absence of the blinding light, new paths came into my vision, and better ways were illuminated before me. |
So I am telling you right now: That is not what I need or want at this time. Truthfully, my faith is largely in shreds, and I am not presently in a position to incorporate religion into my daily life, nor to consider religious beliefs to be a critical part of my future development, as I once did. Eternity is not on my radar right now, as I have much in the present to work on in order to be successful for what remains of my mortal life; not to mention preparing to share my life with another person and build a successful relationship. I am focusing on myself, my future career, and my partnership at this time, and I don’t have a place for even well-meant gestures that ultimately just foster guilt and shame related to my choice to step away from the Church. There may come a time in the future when I feel ready to delve more deeply into my reasons for leaving, the state of my religious beliefs, and the emotions that I’ve battled with over the last few years; but that time is not now, at least not on a public scale.
Secondly, I fully understand that I didn’t need to announce this publicly; frankly, I’ve felt that it was really nobody’s business. And so, obviously, over a year has passed with few but my closest friends and family members knowing that I am partnered and inactive. But it was my choice to finally announce this after lengthy and careful consideration. Over months and months I have gone through dozens of versions of this letter, and considered a handful of different ways to share it with everyone. With all the options I considered, I still had apprehensions about how my message would be received.
If I was too confidant and blatant, it could be seen as rude or inconsiderate; if I was too subdued, my sincerity could be questioned or I might not be taken seriously. Regardless of the mode of transmission, I was still letting the opinions of others direct my actions, from which I am trying harder to refrain. So I decided finally that I was not going to make it my responsibility to ensure that everyone I knew received this information at the same time, but rather that I would make access to it available to all, and let each individual choose whether they were interested in reading about my life update.
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| The roads were still rough, but I did not tread them alone; the journey was still long, but I had renewed strength to carry on. |
Another major motivator for me arriving at this desire for a public announcement has been the feeling like I am living in the closet again, hiding my true self from the world for fear of backlash, rejection, and criticism. That is an awful feeling; it is stifling and uncomfortable. No one deserves to feel confined to a space where they cannot be who they were meant to be. So in opening the door and coming out again now, please try to understand that I cannot and will not hold myself personally accountable or responsible for what anyone thinks or how anyone feels about this news or how I’ve chosen to share it. I dislike feeling like I have something to hide, like I did when I was young, closeted, and putting up a façade for everyone. Honestly, I’m tired of keeping track of who “knows,” and who doesn’t; who I’ve told already, and who I haven’t. I just want it to be over with already, in one swift, but quiet motion.
Even though it is for the best for me to remain somewhat detached from others’ opinions on this topic, I want you to know that I fully understand the array of emotions you may feel, because I have already cycled through them many times over in the last few months (and years) as I saw my time in the Latter-day Saint Church drawing to a close—despite my death grip on my faith. Some will feel that this public disclosure was indeed necessary, and others will see it as attention-seeking behavior, but I cannot change any of those thoughts. I spent years in the closet and remember my liberation from it very well. I am seeking that freedom again by telling everyone that I am now living as authentically as I can after finding the right time and way to make this leap.
I acknowledge the pain and sadness some of you will feel. It does make me uncomfortable to know that my choice will hurt some of you. I understand that there are those who have looked up to me and been inspired by my faith and devotion to the gospel for a long time now. But because I invite others’ feelings into my heart and mind so easily, they do not just remain personal opinions or fleeting feelings—they become scathing expectations and heavy responsibilities that I cannot help but take upon myself personally, and it causes (and has caused) irreparable damage to my wellbeing. I have chosen to be true and faithful to the truest part of myself that I know (and have confirmed) will bring me the most happiness now, not later. And I am learning to do this regardless of what anyone else will think about it—even those I am closest to, who I know care about me and just want the best for me. I’m not very good at it yet, but I keep trying, and it is getting easier to do.
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| With the smallest glimmer of a new day on the horizon, all fears seemed to vanish, and I felt the warmth of life returning. |
And that brings me to my third and final point, and that is that I AM HAPPY. You need to know and understand this the most. I am happy with this decision. Please do not assume for one second that I arrived at it easily; it is probably the most difficult choice I’ve ever been forced to make, and forced I was. But it needed to happen in order for me to be happy with my life and optimistic about my future—both of which seemed to be hopeless and going nowhere before the fall of 2019, when I met my partner and my life slowly began to change and take on new meaning.
After thirteen steady years as an active member of the Church, I was uncertain and uncomfortable at first, even as I was falling in love with an amazing man. But the simple passing of time within a new way of living (and loving) has brought about a solid awareness and a clearer recognition of the joy and satisfaction I feel being loved and in love. I am more certain of the happiness I feel with my partner than I was with the type of happiness I felt as an openly gay, fully active Latter-day Saint. I do not regret my time as an active member of the Church. I do sometimes wish that I had been ready to make this change sooner in my life’s timeline; but that is one more thing I cannot do anything about now. Still, my broken faith aside, I choose to believe that everything which has transpired in my life happened exactly as it was meant to.
I think it’s also important for you to know (or be reminded) that I have been to the brink of wanting to take my own life because I was so unhappy and felt so hopeless. Within the last five years, even, I have come close to ending my pain and exiting this mortal stage rather than exiting the Church. Both options seemed like a failure. And I have known and heard of many like me, LGBTQ Latter-day Saints, who approached that same dark precipice and chose to plunge over the edge to end their pain. I did not want that to be my fate when another solution seemed to be in sight: Embracing my sexuality to the fullest extent possible and seeking a loving relationship with a man. I could no longer push through the agony and anguish toward a time, somewhere beyond the veil, when I was told everything would be okay, and all would be made up to me a hundred fold. It was too far, and too lonely a path to trudge for the rest of my living days.
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| Challenges lay ahead on every road I had yet to travel, but my heart was at peace and my soul was no longer weary from toil. |
No one—absolutely no one—deserves to feel (or be told) that they have to wait to die in order to truly start living. Not one single person deserves that, especially those like the LGBTQ Latter-day Saints, who are so often willing to sacrifice everything to continue making costly deposits into a heavenly bank account of everlasting joy, while in the meantime living on earth in a state of mental, emotional, psychological, and spiritual poverty. That was my plight; I lived it every day for many years, waiting (sometimes wishing) for death and my ultimate eternal payoff. I was waiting to die in order to start living.
I can only say that it was a miserable state of limbo to be in when I was taught that life was meant to be enjoyed, and when I tried so hard to make myself believe that God had a plan of happiness for me that was supposed to be the entire purpose of my existence. Eventually I decided that I deserve happiness now—not at some future time, especially when my mental health struggles were so challenging at times that I couldn’t even see myself lasting long enough to reach the finish line.
And I am happy! You don’t have to believe it; but I want you to know it regardless. I am not without many of the same daily challenges; but I’m happier now than I’ve been in a long time, because I can compare and contrast my joy and my pain, then and now, and I see the difference starkly. What I thought was happiness as an active member of the Church probably was happiness according to the limitations I put on myself in order to please God and others. But this, what I have now, is somehow fuller, and more satiating to my soul. It feels different, and that is something that I didn’t think was possible—indeed, I was told that it wasn’t.
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I basked in the light and warmth of a new life, as if I had never known joy—as if it couldn't possibly exist. |
In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I was taught to believe that true happiness comes from having the gospel in my life and by obeying its teachings; it only follows, then, that those who do not have the gospel message are not truly happy, or that their fulfillment and joy in life are fleeting, fragile, and temporary—not in their purest and most lasting forms. This is why we send tens of thousands of missionaries out into the world to spread our message and share our joy with others.
Whether intentionally or unintentionally, I was taught in the Church to believe that my satisfaction and contentment with life exceeded that of others because of the knowledge that came from my faith beliefs. Any success or joy or happiness was not of my own making, but a gift of the gospel and a blessing from God. With a collective conviction such as this, I often wondered who wouldn’t want to be a member of our church, or worse: Who would choose to leave it?
My experience has been that this overarching notion has led many Latter-day Saints, including me, to become convinced that anyone who chooses to abandon full activity in the Church or allows themselves to fall into unbelief is deliberately choosing not only unhappiness for life but spiritual punishment in death. With the abandonment of one’s membership willfully comes the loss of potential blessings, the loss of conscience (through the separation of the Holy Ghost), as well the eternal consequences of breaking God’s commandments. This is the message I received, and it is truly what I believed as I sacrificed my health and life for God, believing that that was what He wanted and required from me, and that I would most certainly be damned if I chose any other alternative.
Thus, there will be some, I’m sure, who will believe that I am deceiving myself and everyone else when I say that I am happy with my decision to love another man outside of the fold of the Church. But I promise you all that I am happy now, and this is for the best. I can feel the difference, in my flesh and in my bones. I am happy in love—I have an intimate connection with another human being that is not limited to the type of love I feel for my family and friends. It’s what I’ve always wished for; and it’s what many of you already experience and enjoy without prohibition.
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| In the fertile soil of my open heart, love took root, blossoming into something more beautiful than I had ever imagined. |
As look back on my life, I can see so many instances where I made choices that were not my own, but stemmed rather from pressure, intimidation, expectations, or even well-meant encouragement from others—parents and other family, friends, leaders in school and in the Church, my peers, my society and culture, etc. Getting a college education, for example, was not really my own desire the first two times I tried it, and I am certain that that is part of the reason I failed on those occasions. But when I saw that my life was going nowhere, and it seemed that a college degree would give me a leg up on more opportunities and enjoyment in living, I luckily took serious the chance I got to go back to earn my degree. And because it was my choice to go back that third time, I was ready to make the most of the opportunity and I worked hard to make my dreams a reality—and certainly, in the end, I did. I graduated.
I see the circumstances surrounding my exit from the LDS Church much that same as my college experience. I am finally living for myself and what I need to be well and happy. It is my choice and my opportunity, and I am giving it all I’ve got, being careful, taking my time, and working hard at maintaining this remarkable relationship I have. I am not (or am trying to not) be concerned about how others will take it, because it’s my heart that is in the decision this time, not theirs; and it is proving to be the most correct choice I’ve ever made on my own.
I am conscious of the “risks” involved, both relational and spiritual, and I am the one who will face the consequences of my choice, should I ever be required to do so. But equally and oppositely, I am also the one who will feel the positive reverberations coming from my choice to love and be loved. I am the one who gets to share all that happiness with my partner. I am the one who will enjoy companionship and intimacy, perhaps for life, rather than loneliness and despair. I am the one who gets to be happy now, after years and years of living to please others and bring them happiness first.
I am putting myself first for once. It is my turn to be happy now, and truly I am. And that is all that matters right now. Nothing else.
My happiness finally matters.
With love,
~ Wade
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| This is the heart of the Eagle Nebula, a formation of cosmic dust, gas, and other matter known as the "Pillars of Creation," a cradle of life for the birth of stars. "New" stars are created from the remnants of themselves—stellar matter ejected from old stars which have died in massive supernovas, and then gathered together again over eons to form new light and life. Sometimes, as John the Revelator once spoke, former things must pass away in order for better things to manifest (Revelation 21:4). Similarly, some parts of ourselves, even ones that we once considered vital to our character, must die in order for us to become a better version of the person we want to be. But that doesn't mean that our "old self" didn't serve a purpose; it is from the former versions of us that we gather together the key elements of who we are and begin again the slow process of regeneration and rebirth. THANK YOU to all who supported the light that my former self strived to shine upon the world. I hope you will find that my new self carries with him the same familiar warmth, but with added brilliance and clarity. ~ WAW |
