As a ninth-generation descendant of Mormon pioneer stock, notable author and philosopher Blaire Ostler says, “For me, Mormonism is not just a religion, but part of my culture and identity--it’s almost an ethnicity. It’s how I think and see the world. I joke I couldn’t not be Mormon, even if I didn’t want to be—even my rejection of some parts of it is so Mormon.” Equally, Blaire is bisexual and intersex and identifies as queer, saying, “That’s also always been a part of me; it’s how I see the world and navigate life.” Her landmark book, Queer Mormon Theology (published in ’21 by By Common Consent Press), chronicles the juxtaposition of these unique traits that cast people like her in the margins of most circles. But while Blaire was told these two identities couldn’t coexist together, she absolutely knew both existed inside of her. “As one can imagine, having a conflicting view of self can tear at you.”
A self-described “military brat,” Blaire grew up attending LDS wards with anywhere from 15-600 congregants, in meetinghouses from Korea to California. Having this wide exposure to “church,” she saw how it means different things to different people. Outside of Utah, she saw the church as the built-in community you find wherever you go. It was about ensuring everyone has access to food, healthcare, language—basic needs. “That was more important than some of the cultural debris that gets mingled with the gospel. For us, the gospel was ‘Love your neighbor; take care of each other’.” She was also raised by a Catholic mother who converted to the LDS faith—somewhat of a universalist who held there is more than one way to find God. Blaire was given tools to deconstruct—a process that for her began around 14.
At this time, she was coming to grips with the fact that she was biologically queer with intersex characteristics, and also bisexual, experiencing sexual attraction and desire towards a diversity of genders. “It’s difficult to overstate how much it messes with your brain to be taught two conflicting messages about yourself as a Mormon woman, that: 1) your most important goal is to have a temple marriage and raise babies to go with you to the celestial kingdom, and 2) queer people destroy families, are promiscuous, die of AIDS, and corrupt society.” Blaire’s most difficult struggle was to get past this engrained dichotomy of being told “You’re supposed to do this,” but “As a queer person, you will fail at it.”
Blaire, who is now on the editorial board at Dialogue, wound up at BYU Provo where she met her husband of 20 years, Drew. After many moves and jobs, they now again call Provo, Utah home--the Y mountain just outside their doorstep. Blaire jokes her 20s were spent either pregnant, in an operating room, or a hospital–having and nursing babies, and having surgeries that would allow her to do so as an intersex person. “It was a decade of trying to be the ideal version of a Mormon woman in every imaginable capacity—from the way I looked, sounded, functioned, existed. It will burn you out—you can only do it for so long.” Blaire and Drew ultimately had three children, now ages 15, 13, and 10.
In her words, she spent her 30s in a therapist’s office, trying to heal “from all the chaos of trying to fit a narrative that my body—my biology—was not made to create babies. It was a dangerous activity.” She says, “I was convinced I had to prove myself by doing these things, not even caring if I lived or died. That was obviously a low point.” After passing out on the operating room table after having her third child, Blaire chose to get sterilized for her own safety. Her 30s afforded her time to heal her body from the surgeries, her heart from the spiritual trauma, and her mind from the things she’d been told about her purpose. It was during that process that she decided to write her book.
Per Blaire’s educational background, philosophy plus religion equals theology. Via this contextual podium, Blaire ventured into a possibility space where she could be both queer and Mormon? “Queer” is an intentional word for Blaire, who both supports the reclaiming of the word as one with positive connotation (as demonstrated by Queer Nation since 1990), and recognizes how, in its blanket simplicity, it affords many the privacy and legitimacy they seek in a world that sometimes requires labels to consider and afford equitable rights. She also recognizes it as a word similar to “peculiar,” which has likewise been lauded in Mormon philosophy to be a good thing. Further, Blaire reclaims and esteems “Mormon” as a positive term, citing its inclusion in scripture. Her book provocatively explores the inherent coexistence of what it means to be queer, peculiar, and Mormon, and invites the reader to see things that are hidden in plain sight.
Further propelling her quest to upend presuppositions is her role as a mother of three, with Blaire youngest also identifying as queer. “It’s interesting because as a queer parent, my daughter was essentially raised at a Pride parade. We assumed she was simply reflecting what she saw. But over time, it became apparent that this was her. I have a beautiful, queer, 10-year-old child.” But this made things different, regarding church. Blaire found herself becoming protective and concerned with what her Primary-aged daughter might be exposed to. “It’s one thing to roll the dice with yourself; it’s another to do it with your child.” Blaire’s family has taken a calculated approach to their church activity, choosing to support this activity or class or speaker, but perhaps not show up for those deemed riskier. “I didn’t want her to grow up being taught that she was anything other than a beautiful child of God—and strangely enough, she might be taught otherwise at church.” In this Ostler household (no close relation to Richard Ostler’s), there are a variety of faith transitions going on, and Blaire presumes each may land at different spots as they have varied perspectives on Mormonism, church, and God. But “at the end of the day, Mormonism means family. We all agree to take care of each other, and if we do that, then we did our job… This isn’t necessarily a rejection of the church, but a manifestation of our most sincerely held beliefs.” She explains it as the orthopraxy of her orthodoxy and acknowledges that while some may not understand, Blaire views her best perch as one that respects people where they are.
“The thing I learned from Mormonism and how I was raised is that life was about creating eternal families. At the end of the day, when the church is in conflict with my eternal family, I err on the side of family.” She continues, “The church was started by a man desperately trying to connect families and relationships through sealings. When I pick my family, I’m picking Mormonism, by not letting an institution come before my family. Strangely, some conflate the institution with their beliefs. I see the Church more as like a ship, and Mormonism is the people on the ship working together. But some on that ship (the institution) want to throw the queer people overboard, and if people are getting thrown off the boat, I’m going with them--the least of them. Guess who else did that? Jesus. He went with those who were cast out and left behind. The gospel is so much more than just a ship, even though a ship is useful.”
Blaire feels that even her presence causes some cognitive dissonance for others. “Because what I say is steeped in gospel and scriptures, sometimes people have a hard time coming to grips with it. It’s a view of the scriptures that most aren’t accustomed to.” But she honors religious plurality as found in universal concepts like the Golden Rule. “I feel like we need to take it to the next level in Mormonism and recognize when something on the ship isn’t working. We’re a religion of ‘Is this working?’ And if not, we honor change through ongoing revelation. The monolithic narrative of hetero supremacy isn’t working as so many family structures look different,” she says, addressing the single parent, divorced, widowed, polygamous, adoptive, and never married members now casting the nuclear or “traditional” family as a new minority. “We need to recognize our faith community as much bigger than we thought. We’ll be stronger for our diversity and inclusion. Imagine all the beautiful queer youth, queer missionaries, and rising young adults we’re losing because we looked at their queer gifts and said, ‘No, we don’t want your unique contributions.’ We are missing out.”
Referencing the body of Christ as found in Corinthians, Blaire explains, “We were never meant to be the same. Sometimes we look at our differences as a place of conflict rather than beauty and opportunity. If one’s good at writing and one good at building, wow, what a great opportunity that is to help each other! Is the body of Christ all hands or feet? No, we have different parts that work together cohesively. But we’re afraid, and sometimes we look the other way because we don’t want to see the parts of the body of Christ that are suffering. However, by recognizing suffering and mourning with those that mourn, we take the first step to making things better.” Acknowledging those deficiencies, like when the church changed its priesthood and temple exclusion policies and started the perpetual education fund to further restore equity, brings Blaire hope for further change. “Imagine the powerhouse the church could be if all members were ordained to the priesthood instead of half. Or if we didn’t push out 5%+ for being queer; imagine how much stronger we’d be. When we cut people off for insignificant differences like race, gender, or orientation, we’re undermining ourselves.” She recognizes this awareness is needed outside of the church, as well, especially now as people along the LGBTQIA+ spectrum face a litany of hostile legislation and infighting even in the secular community.
While she considers the gospel of Jesus Christ as her personal guiding faith practice, Blaire says she honors each individual’s ability to choose their own healthy path. “If a queer person is happier in a hetero marriage sealed in temple, or if another no longer affiliates with the church because it’s psychologically traumatizing, I support both. You have to go where your basic needs are being met, and you get to decide what that looks like—especially queer people. I have a hard time believing our Heavenly Parents don’t want our queer kids safe more than anything – I can’t imagine any loving parent thinking that, let alone a godly parent. We need to support each queer person wherever they land.” She has reframed her paradigm of God and now considers the concept of God to be a big heavenly family where all are connected. “God isn’t he, or she, God is they—God is all of us in one big eternal family… When we honor our families, we’re honoring God and the greater heavenly family we’re all a part of. Sometimes we think of God as a monster who wants to punish and harm us…I think we limit God’s compassion through our own imagination. I believe in a God that is more compassionate, loving, and benevolent than we could possibly imagine.” Blaire says as a parent herself, she views her role as “a heavenly parent in-training, trying my best to care for my children. Will I send them to a room, activity, or meeting that’s harming them and causing panic attacks? No, I’d rather say, ‘You are that you might have joy.’ This is what we’re doing as a family—prototyping a heavenly family. We stick together; we don’t kick people out on account of our differences.”
Of her faith practice, Blaire especially loves taking the sacrament as it symbolizes the “breaking of bread with my people, especially when we disagree. That’s when we need it the most.” She continues, “We’re all members of the body of Christ and this equates our commitment to each other and to adhering to His gospel.” Again, she is taken back to meeting the primal needs she identified in childhood: does everyone have food? Housing? Care? Health? “That is what Jesus did. Here, our basic needs are met.”
“In Primary, we are taught to love one another. Loving one another is how we find our way home,” says Blaire. “Our queer mantra is ‘Love wins.’ And I truly believe that. Love wins. Or in other words, charity never faileth.”
**If you would like to learn more about the intersex population and what it means to identify as genderqueer, Blaire recommends the books Sex and Gender: Biology in a Social World by Anne Fausto-Sterling and Evolution’s Rainbow: Diversity, Gender and Sexuality in Nature and People by Joan Roughgarden. Blaire’s book, Queer Mormon Theology, is available on Amazon and Audible.
