"I'm gay." Words that shattered our dreams and shook us to the core—words powerful enough to burst our daughter's closet wide open and yet words distressing enough to send Derick and me into the closet.
That was over a decade ago, now. Since then society, including many Christians, have softened their outlook toward homosexuality. And while acceptance still generates division among churches, families, and communities, in many aspects, our approach with one another is more respectful today.
Over the years Derick and I'd heard and read both inspiring and heartwrenching stories about youth coming out, about how their parents had reacted. Not all parents went into the closet as we did. Not all dealt with faith issues from a Christian perspective like our family had. Some LGBTQ were estranged and homeless, some had suicidal thoughts, and unfortunately, some ended their life.
While stories influence us and make us feel less alone, they empower us to share our story as well.
So after much reflection, I share a fragment of our families narrative—not to debate who's right or wrong—but to speak openly and honestly about our once "secret" homophobia, and to reveal how the fault lines of our beliefs had severe consequences in the way we handled our daughter's coming out.
You see, we held an oversimplified view on homosexuality, formulated by pieces of information we'd gathered from the secular world as well as the Christian world. So we had no reason to believe otherwise: that it was merely a result of a dysfunctional society, or worse, sin and abomination in the eyes of God.
But our world soon stopped on its axis when we saw the face of it in our own home. We questioned: How could our daughter be a lesbian? We'd raised her in a loving home. And more so, how could she be an abomination? On the contrary, her spirit exuded beauty, even in the midst of struggle. We wondered what our friends and families would think, what our church would think, what the future held for her/us now? And could she be both gay and Christian?
This new reality plopped us smack dab in the middle of the homosexuality debate, bombarding us with questions and opinions that we were ill-equipped to handle. To say we needed a more in-depth understanding of this issue was an understatement, yet our simplified view remained intact, at least for a while. So we aimed to pray the gay away. We attempted to threaten the gay away. We even bargained with God. However, God changed nothing—except our heart, an awakening that, ultimately, altered our stance.
Inside the "changing" walls of our closet, we grieved our losses, but the homophobic mindset had dissipated. In fact, we found ourselves on the opposite side of the coin, where homophobic slurs were now like daggers through our heart. Therefore, around most of our friends, especially in our church and workplace environment, we avoided the topic of homosexuality, which, in some sense, caused us to live a double life until it finally took its toll on us. Ironically, the painful and humbling experience gave us a brief understanding of what our daughter had endured.
In retrospect when she came out, Derick and I had each other to lean on. Whereas for years she felt compelled to hide in a closet of fear and loneliness, trapped inside a fake identity. As parents, we shoulder some guilt for her ordeal. Consequently, the homophobic undertones of our actions and words hadn't created a safe space for our child to come out. But to save herself, to be innately at peace with who she was and is, even at the risk of losing her family, she burst out of her closet, anyway. After all, if you can’t be yourself, at some point, it not only becomes a mental impairment for helping others but puts the individual in an unhealthy state of being as well. (At least that was the case for our daughter and, to a lesser extent, for us, too.)
While we don't pretend to have all the answers on this delicate topic, through tears and disagreements, we are thankful that our family found forgiveness and acceptance and unconditional love on the flip side. It has transformed us, no doubt. So much so that we are not only advocates for LGBTQ rights but for ALL who are marginalized.
Whatever side of the coin we find ourselves on, though, we must treat one another with love and respect. Also, if your child has come out, I implore you to keep the lines of communication open. Because while it brings much freedom for them, the exposure to discrimination and stigma will be at the forefront of their lives, as such, they will need their family more than ever.
A wise man once said: "Be humble. Stay humble. Never think you are better than the person sitting next to you because everyone has something to offer that you can't." Such great advice to keep in mind when debating this evolving issue, isn't it?
That was over a decade ago, now. Since then society, including many Christians, have softened their outlook toward homosexuality. And while acceptance still generates division among churches, families, and communities, in many aspects, our approach with one another is more respectful today.
Over the years Derick and I'd heard and read both inspiring and heartwrenching stories about youth coming out, about how their parents had reacted. Not all parents went into the closet as we did. Not all dealt with faith issues from a Christian perspective like our family had. Some LGBTQ were estranged and homeless, some had suicidal thoughts, and unfortunately, some ended their life.
While stories influence us and make us feel less alone, they empower us to share our story as well.
So after much reflection, I share a fragment of our families narrative—not to debate who's right or wrong—but to speak openly and honestly about our once "secret" homophobia, and to reveal how the fault lines of our beliefs had severe consequences in the way we handled our daughter's coming out.
You see, we held an oversimplified view on homosexuality, formulated by pieces of information we'd gathered from the secular world as well as the Christian world. So we had no reason to believe otherwise: that it was merely a result of a dysfunctional society, or worse, sin and abomination in the eyes of God.
But our world soon stopped on its axis when we saw the face of it in our own home. We questioned: How could our daughter be a lesbian? We'd raised her in a loving home. And more so, how could she be an abomination? On the contrary, her spirit exuded beauty, even in the midst of struggle. We wondered what our friends and families would think, what our church would think, what the future held for her/us now? And could she be both gay and Christian?
This new reality plopped us smack dab in the middle of the homosexuality debate, bombarding us with questions and opinions that we were ill-equipped to handle. To say we needed a more in-depth understanding of this issue was an understatement, yet our simplified view remained intact, at least for a while. So we aimed to pray the gay away. We attempted to threaten the gay away. We even bargained with God. However, God changed nothing—except our heart, an awakening that, ultimately, altered our stance.
Inside the "changing" walls of our closet, we grieved our losses, but the homophobic mindset had dissipated. In fact, we found ourselves on the opposite side of the coin, where homophobic slurs were now like daggers through our heart. Therefore, around most of our friends, especially in our church and workplace environment, we avoided the topic of homosexuality, which, in some sense, caused us to live a double life until it finally took its toll on us. Ironically, the painful and humbling experience gave us a brief understanding of what our daughter had endured.
In retrospect when she came out, Derick and I had each other to lean on. Whereas for years she felt compelled to hide in a closet of fear and loneliness, trapped inside a fake identity. As parents, we shoulder some guilt for her ordeal. Consequently, the homophobic undertones of our actions and words hadn't created a safe space for our child to come out. But to save herself, to be innately at peace with who she was and is, even at the risk of losing her family, she burst out of her closet, anyway. After all, if you can’t be yourself, at some point, it not only becomes a mental impairment for helping others but puts the individual in an unhealthy state of being as well. (At least that was the case for our daughter and, to a lesser extent, for us, too.)
While we don't pretend to have all the answers on this delicate topic, through tears and disagreements, we are thankful that our family found forgiveness and acceptance and unconditional love on the flip side. It has transformed us, no doubt. So much so that we are not only advocates for LGBTQ rights but for ALL who are marginalized.
Whatever side of the coin we find ourselves on, though, we must treat one another with love and respect. Also, if your child has come out, I implore you to keep the lines of communication open. Because while it brings much freedom for them, the exposure to discrimination and stigma will be at the forefront of their lives, as such, they will need their family more than ever.
A wise man once said: "Be humble. Stay humble. Never think you are better than the person sitting next to you because everyone has something to offer that you can't." Such great advice to keep in mind when debating this evolving issue, isn't it?
