Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Pride Is the Opposite of Shame


I have two rainbow pins displayed on my backpack. Each of them containing a symbol that ties them to BYU. They’re rad because they reveal two pieces of me to whomever is standing behind me. I had owned both them for many weeks before attaching them to my backpack. Each pin was placed on my backpack following an incident that made me feel misunderstood as a gay Latter-day Saint. I put them on my backpack because I felt like gay people like myself needed more visibility. 

I distinctly remember walking across BYU campus the day I put the first pin on my backpack, feeling proud to be seen. I walked by the Harold B. Lee library where I had once secretly read a handful of books about how to overcome same-sex attraction. Now, ten years later, I was walking across campus with a small circular object advertising the thing that had brought me so much shame for much of my life. 

I also wear a rainbow ring on my right ring finger. My aunt gave it to me for Christmas. At first I thought it was a bit loud, but now I like it. Maybe because I regularly get compliments about it. I always reply, “Thanks! My aunt gave it to me.” 

I often don't do anything for Pride month. I don’t really enjoy parades and festivals aren’t really my thing.  I don't hang a rainbow flag, or change my Facebook profile picture, or paint my face. But a lot of people do. I know that Pride makes a lot of people uncomfortable. It might feel “in your face” or flamboyant. While I might not do much to celebrate Pride month this June, I can understand why so many people feel the need to celebrate.

I remember times in my 20s when I would’ve been relieved if I had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. I would’ve been free of same-sex attraction, my suffering would be over, and I could die a hero. Being dead and straight was a better option than being alive and gay. That’s what shame did to me. It made me want to be dead. 

Overcoming that shame took years. The antonyms of pride—depression, gloom, melancholy—were often present in my life whenever I thought about dating, marriage, or my future. I don’t feel those feelings anymore when I think about my sexuality. The shame is gone. I now accept my sexual orientation as something that I couldn’t change. It is a part of me. And I want to live for a very long time. My outlook has completely shifted from wanting to be dead to wanting to live a long, full life. And isn’t that something worth celebrating? 

My story of growing from shame to acceptance isn’t that unique. So many LGBTQ folks have walked a similar path. So when I see a mom hang a rainbow flag from her front porch, I don’t think, “c’mon, keep your life to yourself.” Instead, I imagine a mom who was once uncomfortable and ashamed to have a gay son who is now saying, “I love my son. All of him.” When I see my friends dressed in rainbow colors marching down the street I don’t see them as being flamboyant, but I see them celebrating their desire to live. A desire that they may not have always had. And I’m grateful. 

I’ve only been to one pride parade. It was September 2016 in Tucson, AZ. I had been invited to march with Mormons Building Bridges. Those who march with Mormons Building Bridges wear their Sunday best to let the LGBTQ community know that as Latter-day Saints we want to be at the forefront of expressing love and compassion. I was hesitant to go. I decided to go and then decided not to go a few times. I recall discussing whether or not go with my straight friend Josh. He told me that if I decided to go he would go with me. I even emailed my stake president asking if it was okay for me to march in a pride parade. His simple response was, “I trust you.” About an hour and half before the parade started I felt compelled to go. I texted Josh, we both put on our church clothes, and drove over to the parade area. 

There were only 14 of us in the Mormons Building Bridges group. One of the women who came was from the Spanish branch I was attending. She didn’t speak English and told me that her son had just come out to her and she wanted to walk in the parade so that he knew she loved him. While we were waiting for our turn to march the organizer of the parade greeted us all. She said she had grown up Mormon, but had left the Church in her 20s. She told us how touching it was to see us there. 

Josh and I were asked to hold the Mormons Building Bridges banner. As we walked down 4thAvenue I distinctly felt the presence of the Holy Ghost. Spectators shouted “The Mormons are here!” and we were cheered and cheered. It was a deeply moving experience for me to be in a pride parade dressed as a Latter-day Saint. We could have easily been booed, but instead we were welcomed and praised for our participation. We belonged the least of any group there and yet we still belonged. And those who saw us were adamant that we belonged and that they were glad we were there. No one was ashamed of our presence. One of the parade officials took a group picture of us after the parade. She said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming.” I hope that any LGBTQ person who attends church will feel as welcomed as I felt at that pride parade. 

I don’t think I’ll be hanging a rainbow flag outside my house. I probably won't wear a rainbow tie to church like my dad does. That doesn’t really feel like my thing. The way I show my pride is by telling my story. I show my pride by allowing myself to be seen. I show my pride by inviting others to walk in my shoes. 

BYU Museum of Art
And if the word pride makes you uncomfortable, here are some synonyms that might be easier to relate to—dignity, self-respect, honor. Gay dignity means that I am comfortable being myself around others. Gay self-respect means that I welcome all parts of me as important ingredients to who I am. Gay honor means that I no longer want to die because of my orientation.

June is a healing, celebratory month for so many people. I hope that we can celebrate our lives and who we are and who we want to become throughout the year. And I hope that every person, especially those who have been previously weighed down by shame, feel an overwhelming sense of dignity, self-respect, and honor. 

17 comments:

The Mathews Family said...

YES! No shame No Mo ☺️ I love your words and your heart, Ben. Thank you for sharing ❤️

Laura said...

As always, very profound and absolutely beautiful!

Briant said...

I have never connected with the pride thing. I know all too well living with the shame thing. Now I live with neither. I try to live genuine and charitable and encourage others to do the same.

Jacob said...

i have a similar growth. not quite as far with thr rainbows, but getting close.

Steven Madsen said...

Thank you for this perspective Ben!

Julie said...

Thank you for this. Beautiful words!

Cris Conerty said...

I am the mom with the rainbow windsock hanging on my porch. For every LGBTQ+ individual that comes out, there is a mom and/or dad that must step forward with pride also and honor their child. Thank you for these wonderful words! Speaking of Mormons Building Bridges, I am flying to Utah for the conference in September. Will you be there Ben?

michelle said...

This is beautiful, Ben. Thanks for helping all of us understand.

Animal3 said...

Thank you for your story Ben!

Anonymous said...

This is my 16 year old daughter's first Pride Month out. She's only out to her immediate family and a few friends. For the first time in my life I now see what Pride can mean for someone.

I have a few rainbow items I wear all year. The first time I wore something my daughter's eyes lit up and she said, "Thanks, Mom". I wear a rainbow to give some hope and love especially to any closeted kids. I wear a rainbow to celebrate my daughter's life, because we're lucky she's still here.

Six months ago she was hospitalized with suicidal thoughts and a plan. A plan she had been carefully crafting for months. A plan that if we hadn't found out that day she would have been gone the next. It chills me to the core when I think of it.

I personally have something to celebrate this month. The gift of my precious daughter.

Anonymous said...

Reading this for the first time. Thanks for your perspective.

Anonymous said...

Good for you, being you! I am a stage four cancer survivor over 20 years. People often tempt me and taunt me with foods that I cannot eat. You see, cancer and disease is very often caused by lack of nutrition. I spend a lot of my time, making sure I am healthy, others push back because they want to be validated for their unhealthy habits. While it is harder for you, people forget if you live with cancer that you are still your fighting. In the fighting, I find that I have a greater acceptance for the difference of others. There are things in my environment that I have to constantly eliminate that are considered socially acceptable. Why can’t you do this or that? Why should I spend more money on this or that? In an abstract way, this probably sounds familiar. Our battles are quite different. They are battles just the same. Thanks for sharing your story.

Ilene said...

I just read this for the first time after my oldest daughter shared the link on FB. I am a grandmother with adult down to toddler grandchildren. Racism, bigotry, ignorance, and intolerance were present in my upbringing and community. I have never been okay with these things…they’ve always hurt my heart and awakened the advocate/activist in me. Thank you for sharing your insights, feelings, and perspective so eloquently. Your words are how I feel. I don’t have gay children or siblings, and only a few gay and trans friends. But I do have young grandchildren who will always have my unconditional love and whom I will embrace and rejoice in…no matter their journey. I wish I could express my feelings as beautifully as you did; it’s exactly how I feel. I don’t have all the answers…the Gospel seems simple, but sometimes we make it complicated in the Church. But I believe that the only constant and right answer is love. The charity and love that the Savior taught and that He has for each of us. That’s our job, that’s our calling, that’s our opportunity, that’s our journey. At least I know it’s mine. So thank you again. God bless.

Matt Cannady said...

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

I’m a better person after reading your book Ben. Thank you!

Valerie Sherman said...

Wonderful story and so true on so many levels!

Elissa said...

A decade ago, I chaffed at the mention of Pride and felt repulsed by what I thought was a celebration of sin. I assumed that so-called church members who attended these events were using the name of the church for their own personal agenda. I now wear a rainbow bracelet to church. I had been in my leadership calling for a couple of months when I was invited to a group in our stake called, "Positive Momentum." A Lesbian sister offered her idea to our stake president, and they organized the group a year ago. She leads the group, and we counsel together as members of the LGBTQ+ and/or the Church communities on how to see each other and love each other better. I explained to the leaders in my ward that my rainbow serves as a "reverse medical alert" bracelet. I want to prevent suicide. As an ongoing survivor of mental illness, I know the anguish of feeling so acutely apart from everyone that I would rather be dead because at least then, I would belong somewhere. Other crises can also be averted--youth homelessness, broken relationships, bullying, addictions, and what you candidly shared about experiencing shame. Anyway, I was amazed at how many people had no idea what an understated rainbow emblem signified. Thank you for using your journey to bring hope and healing to those injured by ignorance, bigotry, shame, and fear. There is room for all of us when love leads the way.