My husband Brenden and I are the parents of four beautiful children: Courtney - 25, Ren - 23, Eme – 15, and Jackson – 13, who are ALL LGBTQ! We are the only family we know with all LQBTQ kids and we feel like we won the lottery! But it has been a process to get to this point in our lives.
Our second child, Ren (they/them), was our first to come out in 2016 at age 16, originally as pansexual and more recently as non-binary as well. As our first to come out, Ren had the toughest time and we made SO MANY mistakes, especially me. Brenden and I were on our way to Europe to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary when we found a note in our car at the airport, telling us Ren was pansexual, had known for more than five years, and was leaving the church. We were stunned. I found out later that they had a bag packed that day in case we asked them to move out – which broke my heart. We did call right away and shared our love and support, but that was really the only time we talked about it for the next few months. I chalked it up to giving everyone time to process; but the truth was, I was afraid, and hoped this was just a phase that would go away. I thought Ren was exaggerating pain to get out of attending church, and honestly, I made the experience at the time more about me and the pain I was feeling about their stepping away from the church, instead of about their feelings.
Even with our love and acceptance, Ren had internalized feelings of unworthiness and shame that were at times crippling. A suicide attempt in 2017 really opened my eyes. At the time, I felt there could be nothing worse than the despair you feel when your child tries to take their life. And then I witnessed the level of pain experienced by four separate family friends who each lost loved ones to suicide, some due to shame they faced from their church communities because of their identity.
After Ren’s attempt, the situation became painfully clear. It didn’t matter if this was a phase. It didn’t matter what I was feeling. What mattered was this kid, right now, and the fact that they were hurting deeply. And I needed to figure out how I could help. We were given a second chance – a gift many others don’t receive, and I was determined to do better, to be better for all of our kids.
It seemed unfathomable to me that the church that had brought such joy and fullness to my life could be causing pain for others. I asked Ren to explain more about what hurt at church, and several examples were shared. But the one that hit home the most was a regular and repeated experience – a brother in the ward who reliably bore his testimony every month about Satan’s attack on the family. With tear-filled eyes, Ren looked at me and said, “They are talking about me, Mom. He thinks that I am Satan’s tool to destroy families.” Ren continued, “How could God love me but make me this way?” It was the first time those thoughts had ever occurred to me, and I had no answer for my child who was hurting so badly. But from that very day, I became determined to dig in and learn more, to understand the pain points and to do a better job protecting. When I took my pleas to the Lord, they changed from “Change my child” to “Change me, help me to see.” As the Lord always does, He answered clearly and precisely: “Just love, without preconditions, without judgement, and without requirement to change.” I had four years to educate myself and to learn before life would change again.
One of the blessings for Brenden and I during the 2020 pandemic was lots of family time and many conversations that helped our kids to understand how we truly wanted to be supportive. Our daughter Eme (she/her), then 13, opened up in a tearful conversation and shared that she was pansexual. Five minutes into that conversation, our then 11-year-old son Jackson (he/him) burst into the room. He could tell he had walked into something important since we were crying together, and he started to back out of the room. Eme made eye contact with him and said, “I told her.” My response was, “Wait, he already knew?” To which my son responded that he might was well share his news, too: he was omnisexual (attracted to any gender, with a male preference) and gender fluid! That was a lot for one conversation! But the feeling was so palpably different than our first experience with a child coming out. I felt relief that we knew so early, without years of trying to hide and repress feelings. I felt so much gratitude that Ren had paved the way so that their siblings could have an entirely different experience.
Our oldest daughter, Courtney (she/her), got married civilly during the pandemic and about a year later came out in a Facebook post as bisexual. She shared this information with her new husband, Casey, prior to their marriage and he was nothing but supportive of her. He’s a keeper! She delayed telling us because she was worried that we would struggle with her decision to leave the church and that four LGBTQ kids might “put us over the edge.” By that point, I was a little bit relieved that for the first time, we were all in this together, in a different way than we had ever experienced before. We are making the decision to “come out” as a family together now because we want to celebrate how far we have come and to emphasize that there is no shame in the way the Lord made each of us. We are so incredibly proud of the amazing, talented, artistic, funny and empathetic children we have been blessed with. They have taught us the true meaning of love. We are better because they are part of our lives. We have told them repeatedly – and we mean it – that we will love whomever they choose to share their lives with!
These experiences have brought Brenden and I closer to the Savior, and to explain that further, I need to share a bit about my job. I am an architect and I work for the church in the Special Projects Department. I oversee the design of new temples in a large part of the world, and I have been participating in this work in some form or another since 2016, just months before Ren came out.
As I came to better understand the trauma our LGBTQ kids were carrying, I came to understand why the temple was such a source of pain for many. I have had tearful, honest conversations with my kids about the reality of their ability to attend the temple now and in the future. At times, it has seemed ironic to me that the majority of my time and effort on a daily basis is spent engaged in building temples that my own children may not be able to attend. It hurt tremendously, often more than I had words to explain. I don’t think it is a coincidence that I work where I do and that all my children are LGBTQ. It has given me the opportunity to search deeply for answers from the Lord.
As I repeatedly took my concerns to the Lord in the temple, several things were made clear to me. First, the valiant example of Eve: her ability to evaluate truth and evil and make a courageous choice allowed the unfolding of the Lord’s plan. She is someone I can emulate and admire as a mother and a woman who bravely does hard things. Second, the blessings pronounced in the temple go both forward and backward in time, they impact my ancestors and my children, and are based solely on my ability to keep my covenants, not theirs. Third, it was no accident that the focus of the temple is on the beauty and variety of the Lord’s creations. My children, and others like them, were beautifully and wonderfully created in His image and were some of the most valiant spirits saved for these latter days. That last truth came as I sat in a celestial room and looked up at the beautiful chandelier and saw hundreds – if not thousands -- of tiny rainbows. It literally took my breath away. I was also blessed with the opportunity to take my whole family to the open house and rededication of the Raleigh, NC temple, one of my earliest temple projects. As we sat in the celestial room together, I had the thought that it might be the only opportunity we would have, in this life, to be with our children in the temple and how grateful I was that we at least had that experience together. I was filled with tremendous peace that everything would be ok, and I have often looked back on that experience for peace and reassurance from the Lord.
We try to Lift + Love our children by believing them. We talk about everything honestly and openly. We try to help them process things that hurt, including comments and attitudes of others -- sometimes close friends. They have our permission to leave a space that doesn’t feel safe and to advocate for themselves and others. We are also working on allowing them the space and time they need to create their own relationship with the Savior and to understand that His love is not transactional; it does not need to be earned. The Lord has slowly been teaching me that I don’t have to hold on so tightly. He loves these kids infinitely more than I do – which is hard to imagine. Whether they stay members is not important; what matters most is that they connect with Him and feel His love in a way they can understand.
As for my husband and I, we feel called to stay, to tell our story, and to advocate for safety and inclusion. I believe that truly listening to each other and learning from each other paves the path to real Christlike love. Listening to the stories of other LGBTQ members as well as my own kids ultimately changed my heart. My desire is that one day we, as members of the church, will open our hearts and our minds to everyone and that we will have a desire to truly magnify our baptismal covenants -- to mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort -- with both our words and our actions. Church will be a place to come and heal, regardless of the trials and challenges we face individually and ALL will be welcome on the pews. We will be able to love without preconditions, without requirement to change -- to love like He loves!
We’d like to thank Tanya Davis for sharing her beautiful family story.
