A letter to my closeted gay friend
Dear Lisa*,
We’ve known each other for most of our lives, and you’ve always been a great friend. Though I wouldn’t call us best friends, we’ve certainly been close for a number of years. We grew up together in the church, and while you’re a few years older, we’ve always run in the same circles within the confines of our congregation.
As we grew older, you began to change. You didn’t come to church as often as you used to, for a bit. When you did, you always looked to be a bit uncomfortable. You’d sit in the youth section and I’d spot you looking like you wanted to crawl out of your skin, or crying when the subject was broached. You cut your hair short, colored it, got tattoos, and didn’t much care for the questions that came with the new you.
Everyone thought you were gay, and they had a problem with the possibility of it being true.
There were hints about your sexuality, like your anger when the topic came up in discussions, and some Freudian slips you made in private conversations. There’s never been any explicit declaration. But it became increasingly clear that you had skin in the game of wishing to remain straight in the eyes of our church, and in our circle of friends.
You couldn’t come out because you wanted to be a mentor, and our church may never have an openly gay mentor. Regardless of how devout you were and still are, regardless of how active and enthusiastic a member of our community you were, regardless of the fact that you spent years bending over backwards to show love and kindness to youth who needed it more than anyone, being gay was and still is tantamount to having some infectious disease in the eyes of the church. You’ll be untouchable, and unable to serve in the place you’ve called your second home for as long as I’ve been around.
Today, gay marriage became the law of the land, with the Supreme Court ruling 5-4 in its favor. I haven’t reached out to you about it, because I don’t want to embarrass you or catch you off guard. I know you’re happy for openly gay citizens. I know you and your girlfriend, who I met a while back, are happy for your close friends. But I wish that you would avail yourself to expressing that joy in the open, as a member of the gay community. Gay marriage is no longer a thing relegated to certain portions of our union. It’s just marriage now. We happen to be two lifelong members of an extremely rigid, messed-up religion, one that’s used the words of its founders and forefathers to oppress, malign, and vilify millions of citizens, even some within our own ranks.
But we serve a loving God who tells us that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, and that he’s known us from the womb. Surely he knew you’d come to love women as much as I do, and yet here we are. I hope the church sees the light on issues of marriage. But, in the short term, I hope you can find the space to be happy, free, and celebrate love–love how you like it–today and everyday.
Love,
Jordan
*I’d never out you, but when you come out, I’ll welcome you with open arms.
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