Discovering Authenticity: My Story of Conversion to Jesus as a Gay Man.
I was so desperate for peace and real meaning in my life, as I sat there in my bed, hopeless and depressed. Where was my life going? I had a attractive boyfriend, all the sex I wanted, and partied hard on the weekends. I’m not going to lie; my life was thrilling and a ton of fun. By all accounts, I should have been happy living my life to the “fullest,” being my “true” self, my “authentic” self; but at the end of the day, the fun and satisfaction didn’t last, and I just felt empty.
The only real meaning that I had in my life was my boyfriend. He was my reason for living. All my previous relationships were too. My boyfriends were my idols. I thought that they could complete me and make me feel whole, loved, and valuable. And even though I loved my current boyfriend, I began to have doubts about the health of our relationship; if it would even last. With each romantic relationship I had, I feel like my boyfriends pushed me to engage in more edgy behaviour that I wasn’t comfortable with, but I rationalised away my morals to please them and to rid myself of the archaic and oppressive Christian ethics that I was raised with. Because, after all, it was Judeo-Christian morality that had made me so miserable in the past, or so the world convinced me to believe.
Me at 15 with Ashton and my mom. Look at the emotionlessness of my expression. There’s a lot of pain and self-hatred behind that face.
Mom was a devout non-denominational Christian and Dad a pious Latter-day Saint. After my parents’ subsequent divorce, I feel like my doctrinal understanding was enlarged, needing to better understand for myself which denomination I would eventually want to join. Being raised in this conservative Christian environment, I knew very well what the Bible and my ecclesiastical leaders taught about homosexuality; and I hated myself for it.
When I started going through puberty, I began to realise that my sexual attractions for other male peers did not align with God’s plan. I buried these feelings deep within myself; disgusted with myself any time I noticed myself feeling attracted to other guys around me. I would punish myself emotionally and physically sometimes for feeling these attractions. And, after almost a decade of stuffing, and suppressing, and hiding away my attractions—pretending that they weren’t what they were—I just couldn’t handle all the self-loathing and bottled-up emotions anymore. I got involved in the raving and clubbing scene and started self-medicating with illicit substances. This gave me the outlet that I needed to be free of the deep emotional pain inside, and became the catalyst for me opening up about my same-sex attractions. So, at 18 years of age, I “came out” in a fury, abandoning the “oppression” of the Christian doctrine I had languished under—at least that was my perception at the time.
Me and a couple friends at a rave. I felt at home here, because I didn’t need to hide my sexuality anymore.
I dove headfirst into the gay world; dating men, sex, gay clubs, and partying; everything that should have made me happy. I was finally being the “me” that I was supposed to be. I was being “true” to myself. Instead of being weighed down by the commandments of the Judeo-Christian God, I made my boyfriends my gods. They were my purpose and meaning for existing. The sex-obsessed, Romanticly-driven culture around me told me that if I found my soulmate that I would finally be complete. Then I would find fulfilment and real joy. I craved that. I wanted to be loved and experience the thrill of romance.
Although I found what I wanted to a degree, it never seemed like it was enough, and I never felt like I could ever do enough to please or satisfy my boyfriends. Even though I didn’t consider myself Christian anymore, subconsciously I brought many Christian morals into the gay lifestyle with me, but I found time and time again with each new boyfriend, that my morals were gradually degraded, and I found myself lowering my standards more and more to appease my partners just to have their “love” and approval. I had all the amazing, physically-gratifying sex and pleasure that I wanted—I had the thrill of romance—but at the end of the day, when I was alone and in bed, I felt empty with no real purpose in my life. The god I was worshipping, the idol of romance, pleasure, and sex, brought a ton of intense, temporary satisfaction, but he never brought me the lasting peace and healing that I needed in hard times and for my brokenness looming under the surface.
Me and a date at Rage, a gay club in West Hollywood.
As I began to come to this realisation, I started to seek out some spirituality or religion that could bring me the peace and fulfilment that I was needing, but I wouldn’t even consider an Abrahamic religion. I wanted to find a spiritual path that would give me meaning, but that could also accommodate my sexual orientation. I wanted to find a god modelled after my own image, but this search ultimately led me back to the same problem; feeling an inkling of meaning and connection to the Divine, but at the end of the day it was fleeting and unsustainable. It was around this time that my brother, Ashton, joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Ashton and I went through everything together growing up, and got very close to one another through the process. We endured our parents divorce together, did sports together, and rebelled together. He and I got into the drug-laden partying scene together, and got into sober living together. I deeply loved (and still love) him. He was the first person that I came out to. So, it was a bit difficult for me seeing him join the the church that I thought hated gays, but I respected his decision.
Me and my boyfriend before going out to the club in W Hollywood.
Not long after Ashton joined the Church, he began to take opportunities to visit me and share the gospel with me, or shared it with me when I went to visit him, but I wasn’t having it. He even had the “gall” to give me a Book of Mormon to read! I reluctantly took it, but I swore that I would never read it and buried it somewhere in my closet. Although I deeply loved and respected him, there was nothing that was going to convince me to join, what in my mind, was such a false, bigoted church. I “knew” it was wrong, and nothing would ever make me even remotely interested in becoming a Mormon. But, I humoured him by listening to what he had to say, because I knew he cared about me and was just concerned for my wellbeing.
I definitely would not have responded well or listened to the full-time missionaries, if they had sought me out, because of my hate for Mormonism. In my immaturity, I used to flip missionaries the bird or yell obscenities at them as I drove by, if I ever saw them on their bikes. I was disgusted by them and their message. Ashton was the only one who I allowed to preach to me in any way, even though I didn’t have ears to hear or eyes to see at that time.
Me, my boyfriend, and some friends at a party.
Although I had a hard heart—and I’m sure that it may have seemed to Ashton like nothing he said was having any effect on me—his words nagged me in the back of my mind, as much as I tried to disregard them and cover it up with partying and drinking. But, there was something he said that deeply affected me.
I distinctly remember the moment he told me, like it was yesterday: We were walking across the street one night in Moorpark, and we were having a discussion about our identities as sons of God. He said to me, in reference to my gay lifestyle (I paraphrase), “Tember, this isn’t who are! This isn’t who you’re meant to be! I think you know deep down inside the truth. You’re meant for so much more than all this.” That message pricked my soul, but I didn’t want to believe it. In response, I said something to effect of, “I don’t believe that, but even if you’re right, I would need to change everything about myself to live up to that.” Even though I tried to deflect what he said, my acknowledgment that I would need to change my life to live up to my heavenly identity somehow was an acknowledgement to myself that he was right, as much as I didn’t want to admit it. For a split second, it seemed an answer to my seeking for deeper meaning in my life, but I quickly brushed it off and didn’t continue with the conversation.
Not long after Ashton’s visit and our conversation, I was again feeling very depressed, with a total lack of real purpose in my life. I was desperate to feel some sort of peace as respite from the shallow, empty existence I had created for myself. Not knowing anywhere else to turn, I felt a nudge within me to read a verse from the Book of Mormon that my brother had given me. So, I dug the Book out of the pile of junk in my closet, then sat on my bed when I found it.
Knowing that I had been experiencing night terrors and wasn’t sleeping well, Ashton had told me about a scripture to read to help overcome that. I thumbed through the index, looking for a scripture about “sleep,” and found the one he mentioned; Alma 37:37. I cracked open the page and began to read: “Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day.”
The second I began to read this in my head, this feeling of intense love, warmth, and overwhelming peace began to flood my body, starting from my heart and then into my arms and legs. The feeling was so pure and powerful that I wept out of joy and relief. In that moment, I distinctly knew one thing: If I wanted peace, purpose, and true fulfilment in my life, I would need to follow Jesus Christ. There was no other choice.
I knew that that clear revelation I received was true. I could not deny it. But, it was not the answer that I wanted. I knew what that answer meant. I knew that it meant that I would need to completely change my life, my habits, and my relationships. I knew it meant breaking up with my boyfriend, whom I deeply loved and worked so hard to keep as my companion. But, I knew that this is what needed to be done, and somehow, by God’s grace, I was given the courage to make that change, as much as I knew it would hurt. I remember thinking to myself, “It’s true isn’t it? Then what else matters?” (referring to the truth that Jesus is my Saviour and his gospel is what I needed). I knew that indulging my homosexuality any more would only lead me more to squander the potential of my truly authentic self and identity, as a son of the Living God.
Ashton and me being dorks together, soon after I left my gay lifestyle, before getting baptised.
It broke my heart to break up with my boyfriend. I remember bawling my eyes out on my mom’s couch before I went to talk to my boyfriend to break off our relationship. That was the hardest thing that I had done in my life up to that point, but I felt buoyed up by the Spirit in that moment to go through with the conversation to cut my ties with him.
Shortly after, I moved out of the apartment I was living in with my gay party friends, gave up drinking and smoking cold turkey, and started living the law of chastity. It was very difficult cutting all of this out of my life, and honestly, I seriously do not know how I managed to do all this without slipping up once afterward. I know it was not due to my own strength or willpower, but it was the grace of God giving me the strength I did not have. I didn’t know how this whole change was going to work out—my whole future seemed hazy and uncertain—but, I had peace from the Spirit and God’s grace giving me the resolve and confidence to just stay faithful to the Lord, and everything would work out somehow. And even though I still struggled at times to see my place in the Church and God’s plan, I felt so much more confident and empowered as I strengthened my Father-son relationship with my Heavenly Father and strived to be the man he envisioned me to be.
My dad and me right after exiting the baptismal font.
About a year later, I was finally able to be baptised. I was so overjoyed that I even cleaned the baptismal font beforehand to have everything physically cleaned in preparation for my spiritual cleansing. I was baptised on Saturday, 18 February 2012, at 22 years of age. What an absolutely glorious day!
I remember right after getting out of the water feeling this outpouring of the Spirit in my whole being. I was so full of the most intense, purest joy that I could barely talk straight. I couldn’t stop smiling! I felt so enveloped in sweetest love from God. To me, it was a small taste of the celestial bliss that the faithful will one day enjoy in the present of our Heavenly Parents and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Temple trip with Ashton soon after coming home from my mission.
Through this process, I have discovered that true authenticity is lived and achieved when I understand my eternal identity and relationship with God, and seek to become like him. President Russell M Nelson said it best: “Labels can be fun and indicate your support for any number of positive things. But if any label replaces your most important identifiers, the results can be spiritually suffocating. I believe that if the Lord were speaking to you directly, the first thing He would make sure you understand is your true identity. My dear friends, you are literally spirit children of God.
“No identifier should displace, replace, or take priority over these three enduring designations:
- Child of God
- Child of the covenant
- Disciple of Jesus Christ
“Any identifier that is not compatible with those three basic designations will ultimately let you down. Make no mistake about it: Your potential is divine. With your diligent seeking, God will give you glimpses of who you may become” (emphasis added).
My sweet, little family.
True authenticity is achieved when we seek to align our wills with the Father and seek to become like him. As I have strived to be authentic to my eternal identity, a son of God, a son of Jesus Christ through covenant, and his disciple, I have seen miracles worked in my life that I never thought possible. I have married a dear, righteous woman and experienced the immense joy of procreation and child rearing. I never knew what true love was until I began to join in creation with my Heavenly Father. This is something that cannot be replicated in any of the shallow, counterfeit “loves” and romantic relationships the world offers as “legitimate” alternatives.
There isn’t a he-lived-happily-ever-after ending to the story—yet. The story still goes on, and I still have my struggles and challenges, but I’ve also had wonderful joys and undeniable witnesses of the truth. Undergirding all of this is the constant joy that I have in Christ Jesus and my deliverance through him from death and damnation. I have a hope in him and of the everlasting joy to come, when I get to embrace him and my Father again and be with my family for eternity.
