I stole my first Book of Mormon from a Marriott hotel. If I had known missionaries gave them away for free, it probably would’ve saved me a lot of guilt.
At the time, I was angry at organized religion, openly critical of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and convinced faith and LGBTQ identity could never peacefully coexist.
Today, I’m a gay member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, a convert to the faith I once fought against, and someone who spends hours every week talking with people through YouTube videos, livestreams, Instagram and social media.
One thing I’ve learned in recent years from observing and listening to people online is that people are spiritually exhausted. They are overwhelmed by outrage, division, anxiety, loneliness, identity politics, cultural pressures, algorithms and constant noise.
Many still believe in God. Many still want peace, purpose, belonging and faith. But more and more, people feel somehow forced to choose between belonging and belief.
I understand that tension deeply because, for years, that was me.
Why I stayed
What surprises people about my story isn’t that I’m gay. What surprises people is that I stayed.
That chance Book of Mormon wasn’t my first introduction to the church. Like many, I was already aware of the church through public controversies, including Proposition 8. Because of that, I carried assumptions about what Latter-day Saints believed and whether there could ever be a place for someone like me.
Still, something kept pulling me back to the book. As I read, I wasn’t finding the angry, exclusionary faith I had expected. Instead, I found repeated invitations to come unto Jesus Christ. The message was centered on faith, repentance, grace and personal revelation.
My resistance didn’t disappear overnight. I asked hard questions. I wrestled with concerns. But the more I studied, prayed and met faithful members of the church, the harder it became to ignore what I was feeling. Eventually, I realized I had a decision to make: trust my assumptions, or trust the spiritual experiences I was having.
I didn’t join this church to please culture, politics or other people. I joined because I wanted to please God.
That decision didn’t magically erase every struggle. If anything, baptism showed me how much I needed Jesus Christ every single day.
One of my biggest fears after joining the church was disappointing everyone who came to my baptism. I thought if I struggled or stumbled, maybe I would somehow fail God too.
But what I found instead was grace.
I found a church community that welcomed me, gave me purpose and helped me grow spiritually — and a loving God who kept tutoring me and staying as close as I allowed, never giving up on me, even when I struggled to believe in myself.
Listening for answers that came
My first calling was something called a “ward mission leader.” I actually had to Google what that meant.
Now, I joke, “Ask God, not Google.” But there’s really an important truth in that. I’ve since realized how much faith is about bringing hard questions to God, listening for answers and then actually acting on those promptings instead of ignoring them.
Doing that changed my life.
For years, I walked around angry at religion and convinced organized faith had no place for someone like me. Looking back, I think I had built walls before I ever really opened my heart to God.
I thought I was too broken to be loved by him. Now I realize the church isn’t for perfect people. It’s for imperfect people trying to become a little more like Jesus Christ.
Why more people are staying than we think
One reason this message resonates so much right now, I believe, is because people are spiritually exhausted. In addition to the emotional overwhelm I see every day online, I also believe people are starving for peace, meaning, belonging and God. I also keep sensing that people are tired of being told they have to choose between faith and identity, conviction and compassion, or belonging and belief.
Popular culture often presents one storyline: that LGBTQ identity and religious faith must always be at war. But there are thousands of us quietly living in that tension every day.
Over the years, I’ve met many other gay Latter-day Saints quietly trying to live their faith with integrity. Some serve in callings. Some attend the temple. Some wrestle privately with loneliness and belonging.
But many stay for the same reason I do — because their relationship with Jesus Christ became more important than public opinion, politics or online narratives.
Most are not looking for attention or headlines. They simply want to stay close to God, keep their covenants and belong in a faith community they sincerely love.
The truth being missed
Not everybody leaves religion.
Not everybody hates God.
Not everybody wants to deconstruct faith.
Many of us stay because we genuinely believe in Jesus Christ. That’s probably not a headline you’ve seen before — emphasizing the true, uncounted scope of people who are choosing to stay.
But it deserves far more attention. Otherwise, a false picture emerges of a mass exodus.
For me, staying was never weakness. Staying was covenant courage. For me, staying is not about pretending life is easy. It’s about believing Jesus Christ is still worth following even when life gets complicated.
That belief has only deepened over time. Recently, I received one of the most powerful priesthood blessings of my life. During the blessing, I was reminded of a passage from the Book of Mormon about building your foundation on Jesus Christ so you can withstand the storms of life.
That message feels especially relevant right now. I believe many people are searching for something solid again.
We are not saved by authenticity or self-acceptance. We are saved through Jesus Christ — through repentance, grace and covenant discipleship.
I used to advocate primarily for identity. Today, I try to advocate first for Christ.