The Josh Weed Story

Josh and Lolly

In my continuing, intense journey about my feelings about "same gender attraction" in the LDS milieu, I chose to post the story of Josh Weed from his own website (joshweed.com).  Josh, who is gay, decided to go against the odds and get married to his long time friend Lolly (a 2011 study by John Dehlin at Utah State University of over 1500 LGBT people found that approximately 75% of gay people getting married heterosexually end up getting a divorce).  At their ten-year anniversary, (he had come out to Lolly many years prior their marriage) he decided to announce on his Internet blog that he was indeed gay.

As you'll recall from my previous blog posting, getting married to someone of the opposite gender is the Third Option a gay or lesbian member of the LDS Church has.  For much of the late 20th Century and beginning of the 21st Century, the Church promoted this path as the "best way" to deal with "same-gender attraction."  The Church has since backed off from this stance. (see mormonsandgays.org)  As you read his story, you will come to understand his spiritual values, and likely, underlying reasons why he is at peace with his "gayness" and how his marriage has lasted as long as it has.

What you will read regrettably does not deal specifically with his particular story of deciding to get married.  I believe he considers that a little too sacred to be put out on the Internet, and while he posted it briefly on his blog, he quickly took it down.  What you will read about are his experiences and thoughts about being gay.  You will also read the written tender feelings of a female lesbian Latter-day Saint in her thirties about whom Josh comes to know.

Be mindful as you read his story of the recurring theme in my recent postings of contemplated suicide  Josh likewise contemplated this drastic action which has become increasingly common among young  gays and lesbians in the Church.  Suicide is often seen as the only way out of the tremendous self-loathing and/or confusion they feel.  Also, be aware of the recurring theme of uneven, uninformed, inconsistent methods used by congregational leaders.

When I was a 14-year-old gay kid living in a home where my dad was a seminary teacher (Seminary is an LDS religion class) by trade and in the Stake Presidency of our stake (Stake is equivalent to a Catholic diocese), you can imagine my life was very confusing. I wish I could show you just a glimpse of how confusing being gay as a Mormon teenager is. I wish I could mind-meld with each of you so you could see how disturbing it is to be told your whole life that family is the most important thing on this earth, and to then find yourself, somehow, horrifyingly, attracted to your same gender. It's so confusing. It's so terrifying. It's so lonely. You don't have guy friends to relate to and bond over common sexual attraction because you're attracted to guys. Girls are into guys, and your relationships with them are weird and ultra-close, but somehow not totally fulfilling. You end up feeling very, very, very alone.

Let me take you through some of my youth. Put yourself in my shoes, for a moment.

Imagine being bullied severely at school for being effeminate. Imagine being taunted daily about being a girl in a boy's body, about being a faggot, and being queer and being a pervert. Imagine people openly mocking you. Imagine being thrown in a garbage can. Imagine being pointed at and laughed at and verbally assaulted as you walk down the hall. Imagine people calling you disgusting, not letting you sit by them. Imagine close friends no longer associating with you as unfounded rumors about your sexuality spread through your school. Imagine the horror as those rumors spread. Imagine the rejection, the humiliation.

This is seventh grade. I am 12.

Imagine not being able to form any authentic friendships because most everyone you know has joined in on the bullying. Not to mention that you could never let anyone know what is really going on inside of you--especially now.

Imagine having fantasies that you know are culturally despised. Imagine having secret crushes on the guys in your quorums and your classrooms as the years pass. Imagine that as they tell you about the girls they think are hot, the only thing on your mind is how you think they are hot. Imagine how isolating this is. How confusing it is. How humiliating it is to feel normal, romantic longings and to have them be towards people who could never reciprocate--who would be utterly repulsed to know you were attracted to them. Who might even respond violently. Imagine this awkwardness--the conversations it lends itself to, the moments of going red in the face and wishing you could disappear into nothingness. Imagine changing in a locker room and being sexually attracted to everyone changing around you--how embarrassing that is, how terrified you would feel that somebody might find out. How worried you would be that you'd get your face kicked in if anyone knew your secret--but what could you do? Gym is required. Changing is required.

Imagine how isolated you would feel to know that nobody had feelings like you--that you were an anomaly. Weird and disturbed. Perverted and gross. Imagine how you'd feel as you heard teachers say being gay was "sick and wrong" and heard peers talk about how they'd beat the crap out of anyone they knew was gay. Imagine how scary that real threat feels to a youth. Imagine having nobody to talk to or relate to. No normalcy, no camaraderie, no safe place.

This was my life. This was my daily reality. This was what my adolescence felt like, day after day after day.

Now imagine having a testimony of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Imagine the peace you feel in praying and feeling answers to your prayers. Imagine feeling God's love and true acceptance. Imagine knowing, deeply in your heart through the spirit, that Joseph Smith really did see God and Christ in the grove; that the pages you read in the Book of Mormon are true. Imagine feeling that book's power every time you read it. Imagine getting confirmation after spiritual confirmation that the church is true, is where you belong. Imagine how comforting it is to know you belong somewhere, and the God really does love you.

Now I want you to imagine being this age, at this developmental point of crisis, and hearing some of the rhetoric of decades past about homosexuality. I want you to imagine reading books by prophets, or seeing pamphlets and conference talks, in which homosexuality--this thing that you already hate about yourself, and that you are already terrified of, and that makes you the target of ridicule and abuse--is called an abomination. In which you are told that it is comparable to bestiality and murder. That it is vile and repugnant. I want you to imagine reading, as I did at age 13, about how unfortunate it is that homosexuality is no longer punishable by death as it was in Mosiac law. That the fact that homosexual acts are no longer punishable by death is a sign of the moral degradation of our society. Imagine these words coming from apostles and prophets. Imagine them saying that my sexual orientation is my fault, is a perversion, is the result of my own actions, that I brought it on myself somehow as a 12/13/14 year old Mormon boy who had never even seen a rated R movie, and who grew up in a nearly perfect household with no history of abuse or trauma. Imagine them saying it was the result of selfishness, or that it wasn't real. Imagine them saying that if I just try hard enough it would be taken away, and then waking up every single day to the knowledge that, though I beg and plead and callous my knees at my bedside pleading desperately for that miracle, nothing has changed. Imagine how false those misguided words sound. How painful. How disturbing it is to read, from men I trust and esteem as prophets, that I am evil, that these attractions that I never chose, if I ever acted on them, should be worthy of death. Imagine how this compounds with all of the other trauma and abuse and harassment I am experiencing as a gay youth in this society.

I'm trying to be very, very careful as I write about this. I have decided not to include the specific, cited quotes in an effort not to disparage good men I love. Because I have chosen to do this, there will be a contingency of my readers who will say "that never happened! Those things were never uttered! Impossible." I am telling you, this happened. I am telling you, these were things that I read from our leaders as a 14 year old, coming to terms with my life as a gay Mormon. I am telling you that this is real. Research it if you must, but I promise you will find exactly what I just described. And that is not to mention the litany of horrible things said by local leaders and teachers, and, worst of all peers in the church as I was growing up--each time, piercing my heart, making me feel vulnerable and at risk and scared and horrible about myself.

There is a reason gay Mormon youth have an extremely high suicide rate. There is a reason I often contemplated death as I was growing up. And as I've stated many times before, I had it good. At very least my parents--even though they didn't know quite what to do to help me--believed me and supported me. Thanks be to God.

I'm sorry to take this post to such a bleak, depressing place, but it is in going to this place that you will understand why some of the talks we heard this conference about the issue of homosexuality, while being the current word of the Brethren of the church on this matter and therefore more important to me than any other writings on the subject (including a blog post by a gay married blogger about same sex marriage), are really, really hard to hear for some gay people. Why those words re-open old wounds. Why they feel insensitive. I'm not saying I am ignoring those words. I'm not saying they were wrong. I'm not saying I don't support my leaders. I do support my leaders. 100%. What I am saying is that it is more difficult and complex than you probably imagine for some people to hear things like that. I am saying that to hear declarative utterances about "not condoning" and "tolerance" of gay people brings back decades of trauma for many.

There is a legacy of harsh, incorrect rhetoric coming from the pulpit about this issue. It was rhetoric that caused great distress and/or false hope. That rhetoric, over time, has largely shifted and been corrected, and I'm so grateful about that. It is a miracle. However, as a gay person, or a person who supports gay family members, it can be very, very difficult to hear harsh declarative statements about anything having to do with this issue and not wonder if it is not an unfortunate continuation of that legacy.

I choose to support the brethren. I choose to give the benefit of the doubt. I choose to have faith and be believing. I choose to have patience and allow the Lord time to reveal to his servants that which they need to know. I have good reason for doing this. Doing so has brought great blessings to my life. But what I'm saying is that doing this can be a struggle for some good, faithful people at times--a true stretch--a genuine act of faith. And that's okay.

Recently I was at the gym with my friend Konrad and he said "you have to see this coming-out post of a friend of mine." He handed me his phone and I read it not knowing what to expect, but definitely not anticipating being as moved as I was by her words. I was stunned at their power. I want to share her thoughts with you as they relate to what I'm saying here.

Her name is Emily Stephens. She's in her thirties and is a writer. Her coming out was accidental. She responded to a thread on a group called Mormons Building Bridges, and didn't realize it was open to all her Facebook friends to see. Her words are powerful and very direct. In asking where the post came from, she said she was very moved when a non-SSA member was perplexed at some of the harshness that has surrounded the issue of homosexuality in the recent conference. Here are Emily's quotes below, in response to a posting of a girl named Jann:

I am active LDS, served a mission, attend the temple. I love to serve in YWs (Young Women--a girl's youth organization)! I love to pay a full tithe! And, I pray every night that Heavenly Father will be merciful and let me die. I've survived being LDS and gay for 13 years, sometimes barely. I figured it out when I was 22. The messages this weekend conveyed to me exactly what you wrote. I must acknowledge that. I'd like to ignore those talks and only think about Uchtdorf's (in the leadership of the LDS Church) talk, but I heard their words. My heart has felt their words. They aren't going away. They aren't even new words. It is what has been said for years. I have a testimony of the gospel. So, I don't understand why my church hates me so much. Why do they insist repeatedly that I am vile? Why am I targeted at all? Because I "love" wrong? 

 I am terrified of people in my stake finding out I am gay. Though I am more than sure they suspect. In the past, I had a loving and compassionate bishop tell me that if people found out, my calling with the youth would be in jeopardy. Just if they found out I am "gay." I have never been kissed in my entire life. Never held hands. I've loved secretly and deeply in my heart, but was taught to do so with the greatest of shame.  

It is often suggested that same-sex marriage is the root cause of the degradation of the family--how is that possible? If we are to be discussing vile at Conference (twice yearly world-wide gatherings of LDS members and guests), why aren't we talking about pornography, infidelity, deadbeat parents, addictions, abuse, the objectification of women, pregnancy outside of wedlock. And when we discuss those things which truly threaten the family, why aren't we doing so with compassion, asking "how can we help?" instead of the fearful, "how can I isolate my family from the world?"  

Jann, I want to praise members like you who are brave enough to ask these questions. I want to thank members who are courageous enough to see the disparity and deeply feel the pain it causes and are willing to succor people like me nonetheless. It is brothers and sisters like you that successfully place my backside in that pew every Sunday to partake of the sacrament. It is you who gives me hope, especially in a place where being willing to see us with compassion is an insurmountable task. God bless you.

She then started being asked why, if things are so difficult as a gay Mormon, she stays in the church. This was the response, which is what I read in the gym that morning that so moved me:

For those who saw my post on Mormons Building Bridges yesterday, someone asked me why I stay: I doubt just as many others do. I have so many reasons to quit. So, why do I stay? 

I stay because I have received a witness of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, because I believe in Christ's teachings we are meant to emulate, because I believe a 14-year-old boy's prayer was answered by God and Jesus Christ in the woods of NY. I have witnessed miracles wrought by faith and priesthood power. I stay because of the many good works I see. I stay because this goodness far outweighs the bad. I stay because of those kindred few whom I have told my truth that still love and support me.  

I stay because I made a promise to Heavenly Father in the temple to keep covenants that I believe in. I stay amidst the consensus attitude of "one must be adamantly against GAY PERSONS or else one is somehow condoning the ACTS of homosexuality" because there are people who have changed and show compassion, understanding, and unconditional love no matter how a person "acts." Christ commanded us to love, not tolerate. I AM my acts. I stay because I believe in people. I believe in the atonement. I believe hearts and minds can be changed. I believe we can improve.  

Lastly, I stay because I had no one like me to look up to when I was growing up--that is the loneliest of realities. I stay to give a face and a name, a testimony and sense of humor to Mormon and gay. I stay because I am equal parts Mormon and equal parts gay, and always will be. I stay for gay youth, who like me, pray every night for God to let them die so they don't have to feel this pain. I stay to make a difference, even if it is little.  

I stay.

Absolutely beautiful. In her words, I hope you hear what I hear. I hope you see the sweet faith of a good woman, and the profound pain of one of God's children. I hope you see why empathy needs to trump condemnation; why mercy needs to overwhelm justice; why, perhaps, my post on gay marriage resonated in so many people's hearts. Why it was important to have that post out there for a time, and might be important again at some point. I hope you see why this issue is not cut and dried, why it is rich and complex and complicated and very, very difficult.

There are no easy answers here. I definitely don't claim to have them. I have questions. I have questions and miraculous experiences of my past, and faith. That's what I have.

When I was 13 or 14 I decided to read The Miracle of Forgiveness. Before I "go there" I want to clarify that Spencer W. Kimball is one of my favorite church writers. Reading his book Faith Precedes the Miracle as a youth was one of the formative experiences of my life. The Miracle of Forgiveness itself is a book with a phenomenal premise--that even though we falter and sin, we can be fully rectified through Christ. In so many ways it is a beautiful book.

But, there is a section about homosexuality. And that section says harsh, unkind and in some cases untrue things about this issue. When I read the section about homosexuality I--a sweet Mormon kid with a good testimony--was stunned. It felt like a personal slap in my face. I was so hurt and disturbed by those words I actually took my copy of the book and threw it across the room in shock and horror. I remember feeling betrayed as I watched that book hit the wall. I was so wounded by the words about homosexuality. They were problematic. They made me feel horrible. They made me feel broken and unloved by God. They did not ring with the spirit of truth. This was not a case of "the wicked take the truth to be hard." I had not been wicked. I was just a kid. I wasn't trying to defend a "depraved" lifestyle. I didn't even know what life consisted of yet. I was gay, through no fault of my own. That's it. 

I was disturbed to the core. This was a prophet! And he had said things that were wrong!! Things about me!! I got in the car to go to a violin lesson that day with my dad. I was angry. I felt betrayed both by this prophet, as well as by my dad who had told me to trust prophets. "How could a prophet say those things?" I asked my dad censuriously. "How does that make sense? How could he call himself a prophet?"

My dad was patient. He had encountered many things in his career in CES (Church Education System). "He was a prophet, Josh. He changed the world for the better and was an incredible man of God who led the church exceptionally well." he said. "He was also a man living in a culture, and that culture affected his thinking. Some of what he said about that issue was not true. He was a man living in a certain cultural climate, and he experienced imperfection as a human."

In my sophomoric mind that sounded like a complete cop-out. I thought it was balderdash. "But what about revelation?" I asked. "This kind of thing shouldn't happen." My thinking was sweetly simplistic and my faith lacked nuance. It hadn't yet been tried.

Then my dad said something that has helped me many times since then. "Josh," he said, "prophets are men. They are not perfect. And this kind of thing does happen. It has happened for many years in the history of the church and will continue to happen. Your job is to support your leaders. Let God do the job of correcting them in the rare instances in which they err. As you support them, even when they err, you will be blessed, and so will they." It was a hard truth to swallow at that young age. But that conversation blessed my life.

My first direct application of this idea came two or three years later when I told my first bishop (local congregational leader) about being gay.

My bishop was a good man, of course. Very kind. However, he did not believe what I was telling him. He would hear my words, hear me pour my soul out to him about my struggles, and he would then tell me that I was making being gay up in my head. That there was some other explanation for what was happening. Maybe I just really looked up to the guys I was attracted to. Maybe I had accidentally fantasized wrong and made my brain start to think it liked guys. He would defend his words and beliefs with decades-old remarks of church leaders--some of the same ones that had been so traumatizing to me before. I would say "No, this is real. It's... real. I'm not lying. I'm not making this up. I'm only sexually attracted to other guys. It's actually happening. I promise." He would refuse to believe me.

I can't even begin to tell you how troubling this was for me. However, I really did take my Dad's advice to heart. I knew the church was true, and I knew that my Bishop was called of God. So I went home and prayed. I told God how hurtful it was to not be believed. But I also told him that I would trust my Bishop and support him in his role as my leader. And then I asked, and had faith, that whatever miracles needed to take place in my life would happen regardless of the limitations of that man, who was trying to do his best to serve God.

Over the course of my time with this bishop I:

--was accepted into a church school even though I was open about being gay, and he chose to recommended me with reservations.
--went through the temple
--prepared my mission papers
--was called on a foreign mission even though I was open about my homosexuality in my interviews, and somebody in the process had marked a sheet saying that I was only supposed to serve state-side with the quote "think twice before sending this young man to be with a male companion for two years." (I still have my mission papers--they gave them back to me at the end of my mission--and I still have that sheet.)

Kind of huge, right?

Those things are miracles that greatly blessed my life. The fact that my Bishop had no understanding or belief in me about my situation had no bearing. As I trusted God's servant and moved forward with faith, and as that servant did the very best he could, God allowed the miracles that needed to happen happen. I often think with gratitude of the Apostle who got my mission papers in order to issue my call, saw that it had been recommended that I only serve state-side, and then felt impressed to call me on a foreign mission to Venezuela anyway. His special consideration of my case, and his willingness to listen to the spirit and trust Heavenly Father, touch me deeply to this day. It is something I treasure--the knowledge that if I trust my leaders, no matter what, God will come through for me in the end and things will be what they need to be.

This is my manifesto. A post filled with heartache and hope and questions and stories and no easy answers and faith. A post filled with my experiences as a gay youth, the pain those caused, the difficulties of grappling with faith and truth and revelation. A post that is complicated and long, but has some moments of clarity. A post that communicates that I, certainly, don't have all the answers. That I, like Nephi (writer in the Book of Mormon), do not know the meaning of all things, but I do know that God loves His children. That he loves all of his children, including his gay children.

This is my manifesto. This is my truth. I don't get it all yet, but I do believe I will some day. And I believe you will too, if that is something that's important to you.

In the meantime, if I had some advice, it would be this: believe. Choose to believe the brethren. Choose to allow the Lord to work through His chosen servants. Choose to believe those things, those spiritual assurances, that you know in your heart to be true. Choose to have faith that the Lord will work things out over time. Choose to believe your faith and to doubt your doubts. Choose to believe that the Lord will hear your prayers of anxiety around these issues, and that he will guide things forward correctly. Choose to believe in His timing. Choose to surrender your will to His processes.

I promise you that amazing things will happen as you do that. I know this because I have seen it happen. This very blog is an example of this happening. It is an example of the Lord working in mysterious ways to share truth. Of the Lord making extraordinary things happen to bless the lives of his children--of him making extraordinary things happen to richly bless my life.

Josh, Lolly and their Kids

So Josh Weed decided to take the Third Path. Jann and Emily are on the Fourth Path. The odds are against him, but so far, so good.  I believe that LDS Church leadership would like for all lesbians and gays to take this path, rather than Emily and Jann's path.  But for every Josh Weed, there are three people that end their heterosexual relationship in divorce, with devastated spouses, children, and extended families in their wake. Ask LDS writer Carol Lynn Pearson.  But it is an option.

To be clear, it took a lot of courage for him to marry and to come out as he did.  Because he chose to do so, many in the militant LGBT community (and there are MANY who are) have been vitriolic in their condemnation of what he did and  have verbally attacked him personally.  Interestingly, many of those who want to be understood and accepted for their sexual orientation are often as intolerant or more so than the straight people they condemn as bigoted and homophobic.  If one chooses to do what Josh did, which goes against almost every tenet of the LGBT beliefs, watch out.