THE COLVIN FAMILY

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

THE EWING FAMILY

At the start of her 8th grade year, Kendall Ewing’s new middle school track team needed someone to run the mile. Kendall wasn’t much of a runner -- had never been much of a competitive athlete of anything really -- but she agreed to participate, knowing they needed help. Throughout the season, Kendall came in dead last in every single race, something her mother Shannon says should have been particularly challenging for her daughter, who struggles with major anxiety. But Shannon said what impressed her most was how Kendall stuck it out the whole season, untethered to the judgment of others, while beating her best time with each and every race and ultimately improving her personal record by over a minute. 

“This strong sense of being so comfortable and confident in her own skin is such a juxtaposition to her anxiety, but it’s just who Kendall is,” says Shannon. “She loves music and takes voice lessons; and she plays the guitar, bass guitar, electric, ukulele, violin, piano, you name it… but she won’t perform outside of her bedroom.” Now 16, Kendall also loves her regular babysitting gigs and wants to be a teacher one day. This fall, as a junior in high school, she will start the Ready Teach program in her Bulverde, Texas high school, which will allow her to team-teach in a local elementary school the first two periods of every day. Overall, Kendall magnifies typical teen interests and dreams, and it was in typical Kendall style how she came out to her mother last October on National Coming Out Day.

The two were sitting on the couch, each scrolling through Instagram when Kendall’s post popped up on Shannon’s phone: “Lesbian is not a dirty word. If you have questions, ask me.” Shannon turned to Kendall and did just that: “Is this legit? Is there something you want to say?” Kendall said, “Yep, it’s true.” “Cool,” shrugged Shannon, who wasn’t entirely surprised. While the Ewing family is open about many topics, including sexuality, Kendall had known this about herself but held back for awhile, unsure how her news would affect her parents. But both Shannon and husband Jason, who together own Ewing Automotive in San Antonio, Texas said this changed nothing about how they feel about their daughter, whose truth was also embraced by siblings Kamryn – 14 and Kohen – 12.

Kendall knew all along she’d have her mother’s support. Shannon didn’t grow up in the typical LDS family mold that characterized her Idaho hometown. “We were very liberal, and I sometimes straddled the fence, unsure which way I’d roll.” She and Jason married in the temple, and have been active in the Texas wards in which they’ve resided since. But about five years ago, Shannon decided to be wholly authentic with who she is in every way, even pressing buttons at times as needed, which she thinks helped her daughter know she’d have her back. Kendall also has a good friend in her mostly-LDS friend group who has come out, and that child’s mother has bonded with Shannon as the two have started a support group for about 30 others in their LDS-LGBTQ San Antonio, TX community.

Kendall came out on a Thursday, and the following morning her mother went on a scheduled girls’ trip, leaving Jason alone to sort through his daughter’s new territory, which was a struggle for him at first. He consulted with a friend from the stake, a child psychologist, who advised that the most important thing was to put the relationship with their daughter first. While Shannon says that Jason still can’t wrap his head around exactly what this looks like for the long term, he’s processing at his own pace in the journey and loves his daughter fiercely. Meanwhile, Shannon loves to show her love visually, wearing her Ally pride pins and rainbow shirts often to show support. She’s dedicated to putting Christ and family first, and completely fine with whatever path Kendall takes, as long as she’s healthy and happy.

There have been some uncomfortable moments in church settings in which Kendall has reached out to her mother for support, like when she recently sat through a tough seminary lesson. Shannon says, “I texted her back, ‘Listen, if this works for you right now, that’s great. If not, or in three months, we’ll change tactics.’ No matter what she decides to do, we have her back.” Since day one, Shannon has expressed, “I don’t believe in a Heavenly Father or Jesus Christ who would make you the way you are then punish you for being that way.” She has had to deconstruct her faith down to the basics, realizing her testimony is primarily based on Jesus Christ right now, and not necessarily some of the peripheral teachings of the church. Shannon says, “We have an entire Atonement process for people who CHOOSE to make bad choices, so how can we say it’s not for someone who didn’t choose this? Christ’s ultimate purpose is to let everyone return, happy and healthy, no matter what that looks like. So I tell Kendall ‘I’d rather you not get married in the temple to a woman who adores you for who you are, than in the temple to a man who looks good on the outside, but doesn’t honor who you are on the inside – I don’t want that for you’.”  

The Ewings feel Kendall’s coming out has also been a blessing in that it’s opened their eyes to others in their community who are being marginalized. “It’s been nice to see outside the bubble, and find there’s a greater purpose out there, and ways to get involved.” As for the climate inside the church, Shannon wishes that leadership understood that some of the boundaries currently laid “are toxic and hurtful. They are behind the times as they have been with some other things in the past. I don’t know why change hasn’t happened yet – maybe it’s society, maybe the church will catch up – I don’t know when. But everyone should have a right to be sealed to a family; that should work itself out. Christ’s church shouldn’t have these limits and boxes. Ultimately, the main goal is to love God, love other people – and that’s it.”

As for the other stuff? Let’s just say Shannon’s recently gotten a couple tattoos and a nose piercing in solidarity to remind herself and others that no one needs to take themselves too seriously. “If they have a problem with how Kendall is or presents herself, they can talk to me first.” 

And after so doing, they might just find Kendall circling the track in her own lane, not too worried about what everyone else is doing, as long as she’s working toward her personal best.

THE COOK FAMILY

As a child, Kelly Cook would often visit her father at his dental practice. She recalls one day when he sat her down to announce that soon she’d notice a familiar patient enter the office who was in the process of transitioning from male to female. He instructed, “We will be respectful and will now be calling this patient by her new name, Mrs. Johnson.” That was the end of the discussion. Similarly, Kelly witnessed the longtime friendship of her mother, Ruth, and her gay hairdresser, Michael. On the last day of her life, Ruth welcomed Michael and his daughter, Mia, into her hospice care room to do her hair for the last time. Michael was like a son to Ruth, and she commented on what wonderful husbands and fathers both he and his partner were. Michael replied, “Ruth, what will I do without our walks, talks, and visits to each other's homes?” In their lifetime, Kelly’s parents served as mission presidents and as the Oakland Temple President and Matron, but it was these examples of love that would prove to be the most impactful in Kelly’s life. She journaled the details of her mom’s last visit with Michael, not knowing at the time how it was helping to prepare her for the day four years later when she would be called upon to show love and support when her own son came out.

Nick (23) is the firstborn child of Kelly and Rich Cook, who met and fell in love at BYU. Soon, the girls followed: Ruthie – now 21, Caroline -18, and Hazel -14. Kelly remembers how as a young boy, Nick would go to preschool, find the sparkly slippers, and jump into his favorite fire engine to tour the playground. He loved to play with My Little Ponies, climb trees and door jams, watch Mulan, and play sports with his friends. To this day, the Environmental Studies and Sustainability student enjoys the outdoors, and Nick looks forward to graduating next year from the University of Utah. Kelly describes her son Nick as forgiving, patient, a great listener, champion of the underdog, and her child who would become so concerned if someone waved to her and she didn’t see it, that he would give her a nudge: “Mom, so and so said hello and you need to say ‘hi’.” His sisters appreciate how Nick always knows the right way to be there for others, whether they need to laugh or cry. They all love how he includes an “I love you” with every good-bye.

In middle school, Kelly remembers a conversation in which Nick was trying to sort through his complicated feelings. He wondered if he was bi, and mainly dated girls until his senior year when he met his first boyfriend. He then told his mom he knew he was gay. This changed nothing for Rich and Kelly, and Nick was equally embraced with love by his siblings. Caroline simply asked her parents, “Is that why Nick hasn’t been coming to church lately?” She then told her brother, “It doesn’t make me love you any less.” They feel incredibly lucky to have him as part of their family and also to have the support of extended family members on both sides who are open to learning, growing, and accepting anyone who Nick loves.

While Nick always felt loved by his family, there were certainly struggles along the way. His parents initially didn’t want him to come out or date a guy publicly out of protection for him, and they feared what his sisters might think, or how it might look to their community and ward -- all fears proved wrong. Nick ended up going to his senior prom with his boyfriend, Mischa. Kelly remembers, “I was a nervous wreck the day he wanted to ask him. I had a headache, and by accident, ended up taking a Tylenol PM, which was probably a blessing.” When Kelly awoke and asked Nick later that night how he was feeling, he said, “I’ve thought about what asking him to prom would look like, what taking pictures beforehand and the bus ride and dancing together will feel like, and I’m not scared at all.” His calm helped Kelly process her own fears, which were quickly resolved... (cont’d in comments)

The family lived in Palo Alto, CA at the time, and Kelly is so grateful her son had “the best friends,” both in and out of the church, who showed Nick support. Mischa will always hold a significant role in the Cook family’s life, as it was through their relationship that Kelly really understood that love is love and that Nick’s would be no different than any of her other children’s relationships. Sadly, while studying abroad in Spain while a student at Stanford, Mischa died in a freak fall from a cliffside a couple years ago. The devastating accident broke the Cooks’ hearts but also led to some tender experiences in which it was confirmed that God and those who live with Him are all around us still.

“We have been incredibly lucky when it comes to church leaders ever since Nick has come out. We’ve been met with love and acceptance from both bishops and stake presidents,” says Kelly, whose family now resides in Park City, Utah. One church leader who knows Nick’s journey told the Cooks, “Nick will probably marry a man someday, and he probably should.” Kelly loves how this made their family feel seen and understood. Of her unwavering support for her children’s paths, Kelly says, “We encourage all of our children to look to God for answers and let our Heavenly Parents guide them. I realize that Nick’s relationship to God is complex, but I leave that relationship to him. I want what Nick wants for himself and I’m here for all of the feelings associated with that.”

Trusting the spirit has led to many life-saving conversations with Nick through some very dark times that ultimately allowed Nick to catch glimpses of his divine eternal worth to God. Kelly appreciates how she’s been allowed to be a conduit to the Lord’s love for one of His precious children. She learned early on in their journey that the outcome is not something she needs to worry about for her children. When Nick first came out as bisexual, Kelly felt confused and anxious about what that meant. “I felt ignorant to this term and wanted a more concrete label for him, so I could better understand who and where he was. Would he end up with a man or a woman?” Ultimately, she learned that whatever the outcome was would be a beautiful thing, if the process had been nurtured in love along the way.

Kelly dreams “of a church space that openly welcomes all our LGBTQ loved ones exactly as they want to show up, just as we do for other individuals – whether it’s someone who’s questioning, who chooses to be single, or in a same-sex relationship - married or not. Let’s consider who’s not with us at any given time. Why are those who are LGBTQ not with us? Why are single or other individuals not as active? We need to start asking ourselves these questions, but more importantly ask THEM why they don’t feel encircled in acceptance from a Christian population that has the capacity and ability to do so. We also need to take accountability for the tremendous pain and even the lives lost over damaging policies that have been and continue to be in place.” Kelly believes that it’s God’s plan for His followers to enfold and include, not to sift out, divide, or exclude. “This gospel is big enough and expansive enough for ALL of us, exactly as we want to show up.”

The Cook family vows to use their voices to speak up and speak out when they hear disparaging or damaging comments about others as they work to make safe spaces within the church and elsewhere for their beloved LGBTQ friends and family members. Kelly’s grateful for these opportunities to champion others and grow in empathy for all who don’t fit the traditional LDS mold. As for her family’s future, Kelly says, “I don’t worry about the eternities. God is all-merciful and eager to bestow all that He has upon His children. He knows our hearts and minds perfectly and knows that this life is often complex and painful. His love will cover all things and situations. I feel perfectly confident in that.”

THE HANSEN FAMILY

Once upon a time, you “get married and have kids and think it’s all going to be great,” laughs Donna Hansen, reflecting on the starry-eyed newlywed she used to be. But it hasn’t always been sunshine and roses for Donna’s family of five, which includes husband Chris and sons Cole (20), Clayton (24), and their first-born, Calvin – who would be 26, but passed away in a tragic car accident at age 13. The trials, detours, and now rainbows the Hansen’s have encountered have only helped to put everything in perspective and make their family stronger.

“I’m not losing another grandkid,” was the response of Donna’s father, who they were most reluctant to tell after Clayton came out to his parents during his freshman year at Snow College. And indeed, his beloved grandpa quickly joined the whole family in embracing Clayton as well as his news. According to Donna, Clayton’s always been easy to love. “He was this cute, blue-eyed, blonde-haired little boy who batted his eyelashes and got whatever he wanted.” In high school, she wondered if he might be gay, but when she asked, he shrugged it off: “No mom, I’m fine, leave me alone.”

“At the time, I wondered, but wondering and knowing are two different things,” says Donna.

It wasn’t until Clayton had come home for a college weekend visit and was ten minutes from going back to campus that he interrupted Donna at the sink where she was doing dishes to say, “Hey Mom, I’m gay.” This time she asked, “Are you kidding me?” But she quickly walked over and clasped his hands, which were “shaking like a leaf,” and she knew he was serious. She simply replied, “That’s fine. It’s okay. We love you. And then he went back to school.” Donna chuckles, relaying a lot of moms probably get told big news right before a departure and it’s a good thing for all to have time to process. Donna appreciated the time that she and husband Chris had to work through the newness of it all without having to run and tell anyone else. It wasn’t a huge surprise to Chris, who had assumed as much and prepared himself, knowing everything would be okay. Donna felt everything they had experienced thus far in their lives had prepared them for this -- from losing Calvin at such a young age and annually celebrating his birthday and angel day with a “Do A Good Deed for Calvin Day” initiative as a family, to serving in a BYU YSA ward and being part of a home ward family in Spanish Fork, UT that includes several LGBTQ+ members. It all “made it easier to hold our kids closer, and not let stupid things get in the way,” Donna reasons.

Clayton had already come out to his friends at school and had plenty of support. But he most cherishes his family, especially his grandparents who he visits often, and Donna expresses relief that none of them shut him out after he came out. Outside of school, Clayton loves playing Dungeons and Dragons with both his father and a group of friends, and also enjoys traveling, trying new restaurants, and going to movies, museums, and plays. He’s an excellent baker and cook and his mom knows, “he’s going to make a great husband someday.” In Clayton’s circle, there was no big announcement or fanfare, just an “I’m gay. No big deal. That’s me.” But that’s how Clayton has always been, according to Donna. “He’s so comfortable in his own skin. Sometimes so much so that I had wished he cared at least a little about what others thought. But thankfully I wasn’t able to change that about him because that trait would become his armor.”

Chris and Donna hope Clayton finds a spouse one day and has a family. He is dating men now at Utah State University where he has since transferred and will graduate this week in physics. He will then pursue a data certification and work in that field. When it comes to her own status as a lifelong learner, Donna likens this earthly experience to a semester in the grand scheme of our eternal education. “Yeah, we may have a judgment day and we may get a grade, but it’s not the final judgment – we get to keep progressing. We have to turn things over to God and realize we don’t know everything.” Donna works with some friends with LGBTQ children who were further along on their respective journeys and helped pave the way for her with good advice, primarily to “love your child and know the Lord will take care of the rest.” When Clayton came out and Donna’s family suddenly looked different than what she was raised to believe and expect, she did not find as much comfort through reading books where families tried to pigeonhole their LGBTQ children into staying in a church where they might suffer more mental trauma. But she has found hope through messaging like that provided by authors Terryl and Fiona Givens who focus on the central theme that our Heavenly Parents love us and want nothing more than for us to return to them. Donna believes, “We were given this family on earth for a reason and if we turn our backs on our children because they are doing something we don’t like, then we just failed our test here on earth. It doesn’t matter how often we go to church or how much we help our neighbor if we don’t love and support and minister to our own family – the most basic unit in the gospel… Just love your child, support them, let them go from the church if they need to, and celebrate everything about them like you would your other children. The Lord loves them and will provide for them when we can’t.”

A couple weeks ago, Chris was called to be the bishop of the Hansen’s family ward. Chris and Donna told the stake president, “You know none of our kids go to church, right?” He replied, “You’re still great people.” For now, Donna is committed to just loving others – as great people do – as she continues to plug through her “semester on earth.” She’ll continue wearing her rainbow pin to church each week, with the simple mission to love and accept everyone for who they are. Because this mom is not losing another kid.

THE ROLLINS FAMILY

For the Rollins family of Riverton, UT, people sometimes question what they did in their home environment to have not one, but two, gay children. “I promise we had no say in this. It’s just the way they came,” laughs Jenny Rollins, who along with husband Josh, are the parents of Jessica (21), Chelsea (18), Aidan (16), Brinley (12), and Landon (10). The Rollins have also fielded such insensitive (and inane) comments like, “You have two gay kids? That’s just cruel!” and “Wow, you are such a good family. And you still have gay children?” Jenny says her favorite was when a man said, “Often, it’s the sins of the alcoholic father that create gay sons.” Thus, Jenny jokingly blames Aidan on Josh, while she takes credit for their gay daughter, Jessica.

Indeed, this was “the way they came.” From a young age, Jenny recalls Aidan was more interested in playing with dolls and dress-up than the trucks and dirt many boys prefer. He leaned toward the performing arts over sports, and by 8th grade, admitted to his parents he was attracted to boys and couldn’t see a future dating girls. At the time, Josh was bishop, and Aidan was a deacon’s quorum president pursuing an Eagle Scout. While his parents wondered if they should encourage Aidan to live authentically or play the straight card through high school, they knew they could not support their son living in deep shame and pain any longer. Aidan came out publicly two years ago, in the 9th grade, and the Rollins say his mental health has been much better in the past year since he’s stepped away from the church and more fully embraced who he is. Before, he battled the broken record mantra so many gay kids ask, “Why would a loving God make me this way if it’s against His will?”

The Rollins’ eldest, Jessica, was “such an ultra, ultra obedient child and fully immersed in the gospel,” Jenny remembers. So much so that her mom jokingly wondered if the four “normally behaved” children who came after her “might be sociopaths” in comparison. Jessica was a born tomboy – preferring to wear masculine football jerseys and tool belts and to go to work with dad over any “stereotypical girl behavior.” She suffered anxiety and depression through high school that only got worse when she served a mission during Covid lockdown. “It wasn’t until she returned that I realized how suicidal she was.” Shortly after she came home last year, Jessica confirmed what Jenny had anticipated ever since she had seen how her daughter lit up inside the Encircle SLC house the family had visited after Aidan came out: Jessica is also gay. Jessica came out publicly recently via a humorous video and has also had to beg people to stop trying to set her up with their grandsons. Always “the obedient one,” the video was just one way Jessica responded to a prompting she received on her mission that when she returned home, she would “need to be vulnerable in sharing her story.”

Now, the Rollins’ second daughter Chelsea is preparing to serve an LDS mission, a decision they support. And Jenny says she’s equally as excited about what the next few years hold for her straight daughter in terms of marriage and kids, as she is for Jessica. “One will be getting married in the temple, and one won’t. And both futures bring me genuine joy. So no one can tell me this is a ‘wickedness never was happiness’ thing. What am I supposed to tell my kids for the next 80 years? Oh, you get to be alone for the next 80? You can’t even hold hands, because a pamphlet tells you that’s sinful homosexual behavior?”

Both of the Rollins kids came out while their father, Josh, was bishop of their ward, which cast a unique role for Jenny. “In some ways I felt like I was on this journey alone because I didn’t have the stewardship of a whole ward pressing on me simultaneously. There were some things Josh had to put in a shoebox, that now we’re sorting through.” An additional challenge for the family in terms of their ward has been seeing their son lose his sense of brotherhood with his quorums. After he came out, he felt isolation and a lack of camaraderie with the young men he once called friends. “For him to want to go back to church, it’s just not going to happen. Not only is the doctrine difficult, but socially it’s too hard when all they talk about is ‘serve a mission, marry a woman.’ What about those kids who don’t connect with that?” Jenny recalls getting called out for speaking up once in a lesson about how the Family Proclamation doesn’t address every family situation. She finds it ironic that church leaders are now acknowledging the same (in recent conference).

“I separate the church from the gospel. My gay children still observe gospel principles – they’re light seekers and bearers, and do it a lot better than a lot of Christians. They have taught me to love better like the Savior does. This a blessing, not a trial. The trial is seeing them in pain,” Jenny says. As for their place in the church? “I really believe it’s all about changing one heart at a time. Often, the big changes don’t come from the pulpit. They have to come through people’s hearts. It’s hearing stories, listening, that hearts are changed. We need to truly listen and trust people’s experiences. And not just sit there while they’re talking and be thinking of the right reply, or ‘praying for them.’ That’s not listening. Just listen.”

Recently released from their tenure as bishop, the Rollins were asked to be ward missionaries. Jenny hesitated about the call, and told their new bishop, “My goal is to get to the same place that you are – thinking I’m suited for this call. I’ll say yes, but have to go home and work through this.” She has since settled into a place of vulnerability and advocacy in her calling and in life, recently telling her ward mission council, “We need to listen and make our ward safe places. There are so many who appear to be doing well, but they’re not. And they’re too afraid to talk about their stories because we can ostracize out of fear and judgment. We need to be more open to being wrong about things. We don’t know everything. It’s a living church – there are more things to be revealed.”

Of her family’s future, Jenny confidently says, “I’m more comfortable with the hereafter than I am with this mortal journey, because of the way people treat my family. My kids’ sexuality isn’t the problem; it’s the way people treat them. I’m not going to claim to receive revelation for the church, but for my children, I know there’s a plan and it’s all going to be okay.”

THE DESPAIN FAMILY

“I have an announcement to make,” 20-year-old Mikaela said over family dinner two years ago. Though parents Keate and Melissa were aware of her orientation, she hadn’t yet come out to her three siblings: KJ (married to Natalie and dad to sweet Harper), Savannah (married to Austin), and Kyra (married to Alex). “I like boys. But I also like girls.” It’s a moment many kids dread, not knowing the reaction they’ll face. For Mikaela, her recently returned missionary sister simply replied, “Yeah, I know.” Mikaela started bawling with relief, and her mom fondly remembers a “cuddle puddle of sibling support. It was such a weight lifted, to have others to carry the burden with her.”

 “Mom! It’s not a burden!” Mikaela quips with her trademark humor, as the two tell their story. The mother-daughter duo share a warm relationship with lots of laughter and patience as Mikaela has helped her mother Melissa navigate her orientation. Melissa still regrets how she first prodded Mikaela to come out before she was ready, thinking she was being helpful. “Don’t do it,” she advises other parents, “Just wait for them to come to you. I learned the hard way!” Since then, they’ve found their stride and there is love and laughter in their home on this topic. “And a lot of conversations,” Melissa adds.

Being an LGBTQ family in their horse town of St. Helens, Oregon has been “an interesting experience.” All the family cars have a round rainbow Ally sticker on the back, and Melissa says she has been pleasantly surprised how they are stopped by everyone from cowboys to customers at the car wash who thank them for making them feel safer. Mikaela is currently studying psychology online and is a cowgirl to the core. She rides all the gaming events and trails, participates on drill and equitation teams, and chases cows. Her horse Khodi has always provided “a massive safe space.” Melissa says, “One of my greatest joys is watching her do what she loves.” Melissa’s also watched with pride as her talented daughter’s writing has taken off on online platforms, where her works of fiction have ranked #1 and #2 in their genre and where Mikaela’s found a welcome community of friends who have become integral in her life. An empath, Mikaela has always made an effort to be there for others and is fiercely loyal to all in her circle. She loves music and taught herself how to play guitar to the soundtracks of Taylor Swift. Now, Mikaela takes her creativity to Tik Tok, where several of her videos (@woahmikaela) have gone viral.

At first, Mikaela was hesitant to come out to family, because she had seen a close friend in the church face rejection from her father after coming out. Melissa says, “I think it scared her right back into the closet.” While Melissa initially ruminated about all the whys and what ifs, husband Keate took a laid-back approach to his daughter’s coming out, telling Melissa, “Just because you didn’t know this about her doesn’t mean God didn’t. He created Mikaela this way; He was just waiting for her to share it with us.”

Being accepted fully by her family and “mostly” by the members of the church has helped Mikaela remain comfortable attending. She recalls when she first realized she was attracted to both boys and girls (at 12), she felt angry and wanted to know why God created her this way. “I have had some intense conversations with God over the years. But if I know anything it’s that He loves me and He knows me.” She’s found excuses to avoid church at times “in rebellion,” but the quiet voice she hears reminds her, “If you need to do that, that’s okay; I’ll still love you.” During one heated conversation, Mikaela softened when she heard her mother say she’d stop attending church, too, if her daughter needed her to. Hearing that helped Mikaela trust more. She says “I know how much the gospel means to my parents and it just clicked in that moment how important I really am to them. I mean, I always knew they loved me, but somewhere deep inside I wasn’t sure until that moment that they really accepted my bisexuality…” Knowing how hard it would be if her kids were to shut her out of their lives, Melissa has always encouraged Mikaela to keep her relationship with her Heavenly Father strong, which she tries to do. Mikaela also has an undeniable love for the prophet President Nelson. “He makes me feel like there’s a place in God’s kingdom for me. He makes me feel included, acknowledged, loved, seen. I love that man. He just gives me so much hope.” One thing that’s hard for Mikaela is when members assume she’s “a sinner” or promiscuous just because she’s bisexual. “The law of chastity and the repentance process applies to me, too. Jesus still died on the cross for me, too. Being LGBTQ doesn’t stop me from feeling Christ’s love.” But she understands, “It’s a perfect gospel taught by imperfect people.”

Melissa says, “It has been eye-opening to see how unkind people can be, but when you know better, you do better.” She counts herself among those who were once a little clueless. She has since sought an LGBTQ+ education, thanks to many late-night conversations with Mikaela, who broke down bisexuality this way: “Mom, I like the color blue, and I like the color pink. Just because I choose the blue shirt, doesn’t mean I don’t still like the pink one.” Melissa laughs, “She loves to teach me.” Melissa has held several high callings in her stake with youth and wishes she had known then what she knows now, feeling she missed an opportunity to have really made a safe space for the LGBTQ+ kids. But now, Melissa’s a bonafide ally and is working to help educate those in her sphere of influence.

 Mikaela advises others in her shoes to talk to their parents. “They’ll probably come around. And remember, when you first come out, they have only had five minutes to sit with news you’ve been thinking about for five years - in my case. Just be patient.” For now, Melissa hopes for more conversations in hallways, parking lots, at church – about her daughter and other kids like her. “Conversation is where misconception gets thrown away. I love my church; I do. But sometimes the people make me crazy. I wish that people could cut through all the gunk and get to the message that Christ loves all of us. There are two great commandments – one is to love God, and the other is to love each other. Why does it have to be more difficult than that?”

On being a rainbow mama, Melissa says, “If you will let it, this will be one of the greatest blessings in your life. I learned to love more pure and Christlike. I’m a completely different person. God changed me. It wasn’t an easy ride, but it was worth it. I really feel like I know my daughter. Because she’s let me. That’s been a blessing and a gift.”

The Kofford Family

“The sunshine in my life” is how Natalie Kofford has described her son Gavin ever since the day he was born. He’s always been his mom’s sidekick and best friend. Twenty years later, that hasn’t changed. Ogden, UT-based parents Jeff and Natalie describe their son as a “bright, happy, sensitive, kind and gentle little boy who loved friends, animals, babies, Legos, Harry Potter and his family.” Natalie also recalls that Gavin was dearly loved in his home ward growing up. “Hardly a Sunday went by when someone didn’t stop us to tell us something special Gavin had shared in class, how reverently he passed the sacrament, how handsome he was, or how he had touched hearts during a youth conference.” The family felt that Gavin was sent to earth “to keep them on the straight and narrow. His patriarchal blessing repeats many times how he is spiritually sensitive, how he will lead and heal others throughout his life, and in the final days he will be a judge in Israel.”

Gavin sensed he was different since as early as 10, but he didn’t really understand what he was feeling. He later told his parents how initially, he didn’t want to be gay and did everything he could to change it, including dating every beautiful girl he could during high school. But Gavin realized that this was not going to go away. Natalie says that during his senior year in high school, her son became very depressed, and spent a lot of time alone in his room. “I had felt a prompting for a year or two that Gavin could possibly be gay, and we were relieved when he decided to tell us one Saturday afternoon. We hugged and cried and made sure he knew we loved and accepted him exactly how he was. We saw a huge change in Gavin as the burden of this secret was lifted from his shoulders.” Gavin asked his parents to tell his older brother, Kelton, who is now a 23-year-old cadet at West Point. Kelton’s immediate response was, “I am so glad he was born into our family where we will support and love him no matter what.” 

Natalie admits Gavin’s news did not come without some mourning of the loss of the future she and Jeff had dreamed for him. She recalls dropping to her knees in an initial angry prayer  “I was so angry that such a tender, spiritual soul was given this difficult trial. The answer I received was loud and clear, and He scolded me right back! Our Heavenly Parents sent Gavin to earth exactly as they had planned. There was no mistake, no surprise. He also let me know that I had been prepared to be an LGBTQ mom and that my experiences up to this point were to prepare me for this.” Natalie found immediate comfort from a fellow Lift & Love mama with a gay son who has now become a dear friend, and she has also felt the stress and anxiety melt away with the motto: “JUST LOVE and let God worry about the rest.” 

 Now thriving in St. George, Utah, Gavin is now a sought-after tennis coach and pre-med student at Dixie State with plans to become a psychiatrist so that he can help others who struggle. He has started dating and has hopes for a spouse and a family of his own. Natalie is grateful he’s been blessed with a new group of amazing friends who love her son just as he is. “While we watch this amazing generation of kids love, accept, and defend the marginalized, I frequently recall the words by Tom Christofferson in his book That We May Be One: ‘Perhaps because this generation has a particularly strong ability to love generously those who are least like them, these are the souls the Lord has saved to break down the final barriers to preaching His gospel to all the Nations’.” 

At this time, Jeff and Natalie describe their feelings around the church as a work in progress.  “We thought we were doing everything right. Our hearts broke when Gavin recounted the shame he felt on many, if not most, Sundays.  He worried about what his orientation would do to our eternal family.” Gavin’s hardest day was when he walked into a seminary class and the teacher had written “Homosexuality is a Sin” in large letters across the board. Natalie recalls that “Gavin sat through a very painful lesson and then went straight to his car and made a plan to finally commit suicide. This shattered us. As she reflects back, Natalie says she now feels shame over things like primary songs about hoping to be called on a mission or going to the temple someday. “I wish I could go back and say to that darling, tender Gavin that those are not requirements for love or happiness. How could something that we thought was so helpful and beneficial be so painful to our son that he would want to die?” Like so many parents in similar positions, Natalie says that while they support Gavin stepping away from the church for his mental health, “We can’t help but mourn for the loss of what gifts he could have provided to others inside this church.”

While Natalie says she and Jeff would find it much easier to also step away, they keep feeling the call to stay and speak up for now. She senses the needed changes in the church won’t happen if all the faithful LGBTQ families leave, saying, “There is space for everyone who wants to worship Christ, and we can only make space for them on our pew if we are there. We are the opposite of lazy learners or lax disciples. We are not worried about our eternal family in the slightest. True eternal success won’t be because of a temple recommend; it will be because we LOVED unconditionally.” 

At the start of their journey, the Koffords met with a beloved mental health counselor, and when they told him their son is gay, he said “Congratulations!” They were at first caught off guard by this, but now they fully understand what he meant. “Our hearts have expanded more than we ever thought possible. Our love and empathy for the marginalized or struggling know no bounds. We have met the most amazing LGBTQ kids, parents and families. We see beautiful rainbows where there used to be only black and white.” Natalie knows her family is better off because of Gavin, and advocates that all parents everywhere should tell their small children frequently that “you love them no matter what, and nothing they could do or be would ever change that.” For parents who are walking the same unique path as she and Jeff, Natalie’s favorite advice to give now echoes that profound notion she first received, “Just Love.”