Meet Adam
Home alone, in front of my bathroom mirror, in a moment of literal self-reflection, I permitted my 17 year-old self to admit, finally: “Adam, you are gay.”
That moment was a triumph and the culmination of months in contemplation.
The structure of my senior year of high school did not easily accommodate the time I desperately needed to sort out my identity. Between marching band, choir, theatre, Boy Scouts, church responsibilities, school, coursework, and early-morning Seminary, there was hardly a second to catch my breath and just be.
Living up to adults’ expectations of me, as I perceived them, drove me to work harder, to be busier. In a sense I excelled under the pressure, because my successes afforded me greater responsibilities and more opportunities. And yet, all of that “more” came at a cost; my lack of unstructured time alone, the time I needed for meaningful, self-directed reflection, left essential parts of me unresolved and unaddressed.
The strain proved detrimental to my health. I suffered bouts of emotional numbness as well as periods of suffocating anxiety. I could not sleep. By the end of my first semester at university, I decided I could not bear it any longer. To the surprise and confusion of my family and friends, I withdrew from school and went back home.
Although I acquiesced to therapy, I declined my parents’ pleas to take on a part-time job for the first few months after I returned. I had made a radical decision: to make myself my priority. All I wanted was to rest and sort myself out. So I did.
As a result of that choice, I came out, but only after an extended period of healthful, careful reflection. The profound peace that I felt after I uttered those words to my bathroom mirror was worth the odd looks I got at church when I was with my parents’ congregation and not with my peers off at college. The peace, love, and confidence I gained was worth stepping off the prescribed “path” for a Latter-day Saint man my age, even if it was for just a moment.
My coming out compelled me to believe that there really are not defined boundaries between body, mind, and spirit. Accepting my attraction toward men allowed these three elements of my identity to synergize. When I came out, the troubles I had sleeping disappeared almost immediately. And while it took years to equip myself with the tools I needed to properly deal with depression and anxiety, both decreased significantly when I accepted my orientation. After coming out, I felt whole and capable once again of plotting a course toward my aspirations.
To those adults out there who share their lives with remarkable LGBTQ+ youth: remember that wisdom is knowing when to step back and let your child just be.
