Carol Colvin grew up a straight-A student, a “Molly Mormon who knew all the answers” – or who could quickly turn to a conference talk or scripture to find them. Now 58 years old, she feels like she’s spent the last 14 years putting together a puzzle without a box or a picture to guide her, “and when you think you have it all figured out, you realize a few of the pieces still don’t fit.”
The Colvins raised their three kids during the decades when the church still taught that being gay was ”a choice one could overcome, something caused by pornography use, sexual abuse, or a dysfunctional parent-child relationship.” Even in the secular world, she says, supporting gay marriage was not endorsed by presidential candidates on either side. So she didn’t have all the answers when her oldest son Jonathan came out. Carol says she isn’t proud of the way she and her husband responded for the first few years: “We said stuff like ‘We love you but don’t really agree with your choice to be in a same-sex relationship.’ Or, after he brought home his first boyfriend, ‘I can handle this in theory, but I don’t want to see it’.” In 2009, when Jonathan asked her to join PFLAG, Carol’s now ashamed to say she said no. But in 2014, the two attended Affirmation together. This was a life-changing moment in which Carol saw, “The spirit of God is with these people. It opened my heart and showed me God loves them.” It was at this point that Carol acknowledged, “When you know better, you do better.” Ever since, Carol has been making up for lost time.
Nowadays, Carol can be found decked out in rainbow gear, staffing hugging booths at Pride events in Seattle and Utah. “I used to always wish somehow he’d find a girl, but now when we’re out, I’m the one saying ‘Ooh, that guy’s cute, and trying to play matchmaker.” Carol now reiterates the importance of listening to and believing the experiences of the LGBTQ people in her life.
Carol and Gary Colvin have been married for 37 years. Puyallup, WA is home, and where they’ve raised Natalie (31), Spencer (34), who now lives in the UK with his wife and two boys, and Jonathan (36), who worked in the restaurant industry while going to school in NYC until COVID hit.
Jonathan has always displayed business and math prowess, and is now developing an app while working toward his dream of owning his own restaurant/bar. Carol admires his intellect and generous spirit. “He was the kid who’d share all his Halloween candy, and now, every time he comes into extra money through day trading, he gifts money to family members to help pay their debts. He has this way of making everyone feel like they’re the coolest person in the world.”
Jonathan always knew he was gay, but first tested the waters with his parents by telling them he was bisexual. This was after he graduated top of his class as an air traffic controller in the Air Force. After being bullied by coworkers for almost two years, he was honorably discharged when a fellow serviceman reported he had posted something online indicating he was gay. (This was prior to the repeal of “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”)
When Carol immersed herself in prayer as how best to mother Jonathan, she received three guideposts: first, to always seek the spirit. Second, to collaborate with others in this space. And third, to get comfortable “being in the middle. I try to be there for people still using church vocabulary like ‘same sex attraction’ while also being the type of person who can talk to drag queens at a PRIDE festival.”
Carol has taken all she’s learned and now feels value in being a resource for others – especially as resources are so few in the church. She believes, “As parents, our first job is to be there for our children with 100% support for who they are – so we can keep them alive. Secondly, we have to maintain a strong family unit. We have to direct only hugs, support, and celebration toward our children.
I made mistakes early on; fortunately, my child survived all the stupid things I said. But now I tell others as they’re mourning their lost expectations for their child’s future, they need to direct any of that turmoil and loss elsewhere. Your child is where you dump all your love. Anything else – grief, anger, sadness, cognitive dissonance – you’ve got to dump all that somewhere else.”
Carol wishes her local leaders would employ her services more and allow her to start a sanctioned support group like the one she wishes she had had when her son first came out. But Carol has largely faced brick walls with local authorities still hesitant to openly affirm the LGBTQ families in their midst. She likens this resistance with how she used to feel about fire drills as a child.
“They’re scary. Even if you know there’s no fire, you don’t want to imagine even the possibility of a fire; but it’s always best to be prepared.” Carol now independently mentors many families, and has had four parents approach her in just the last month for advice. Carol knows there are queer people in every ward who haven’t come out because they don’t feel it’s safe to do so, and she’s seen the damages from leadership roulette. She’s even witnessed a bishop stop a lesbian sister from bearing her testimony.
Yet, Carol sees progress as hearts open, both in the church and in her work as both a dōTERRA Wellness Advocate and as a facilitator for Leslie Householder’s mindset mastery company, Rare Faith. “It’s nice to get the word out there and have others acknowledge, ‘Oh, Mormons can have gay kids’?” She appreciates how times have changed. The year Jonathan graduated high school (2003) in their conservative community, the only student who had come out was beaten so badly he was in a coma for six months. This climate, mixed with church teachings of the time, definitely influenced the Colvins’ mindset, including Jonathan’s reluctance to come out before graduation.
But the Colvin family got a do-over when a family friend asked them to consider hosting a foreign exchange student in 2017, after their three children had moved out of the house. Carol felt a pull to request a gay child, but it was several months in before they realized that Bruno from Brazil was indeed gay – and quite confident in his skin. At the same school Jonathan had attended 14 years earlier, he became best friends with the student body president, participated in every musical and play, and went to prom. The entire student body knew he was gay and loved him for it.
Back when Carol’s own son came out, she says she felt so lost. She wrestled with God for answers – why was he this way after how he’d been raised? But the answer she got was freeing: her job was to just love Jonathan. The rest would work itself out. This required her to deconstruct her testimony to make Christ her foundation, instead of church culture. “It was time to throw out the boards and nails that didn’t fit my new ‘house of faith’ and start over. I went from following the prophet blindly to seeking and relying more on personal revelation for myself and my family. I know that love is what makes a celestial family. If someone doesn’t make the cut in the next life, the rest of us will follow and make a heaven out of hell.”
Carol recognizes that each church community is a laboratory of unique human beings. She felt guided to take a sabbatical for a while herself to clear her head from negative triggers. But she now knows she can’t leave, for “Bloom where you’re planted” reasons. “I want to stick around and be here – the woman with the rainbow pin. The one who raises her hand and reminds people that things have changed; leaders don’t say those things anymore. The one who carries around Elder Ballard’s quote that implores, ‘I want anyone who is a member of the church who is gay or lesbian to know I believe you have a place in the kingdom’.” She wants to be one who teaches people that when their kid/niece/grandchild comes out, the proper response is, “Thank you for honoring me by sharing that information with me. I love you so much.” #liftandloveathome
