A Message from our Executive Director on National Coming Out Day
Friday, October 11, 2024
Dear Friends of Encircle,
Today we celebrate National Coming Out Day, a powerful reminder of the courage it takes to live openly and authentically. This day is not just about those who choose to come out—it’s about honoring the journey, the struggle, and the strength of the LGBTQ+ community. Coming out is a deeply personal experience, often met with both fear and hope, but it’s also a time of resilience and self-acceptance. It’s a day to embrace one another with compassion and recognize the bravery it takes to be true to oneself in a world that isn’t always ready to accept it. By standing together, we not only amplify these voices but also contribute to a more inclusive and supportive society for all.
For the past three months, I’ve had the privilege of serving as the Executive Director at Encircle, and it has been a truly life-changing experience. Being part of an organization that works tirelessly to support and uplift LGBTQ+ youth and families has opened my heart even more and deepened my understanding of what it means to create safe spaces and a sense of belonging. Every day, I am inspired by the resilience, love, and courage of those we serve, and I feel profoundly grateful to be part of a team that is making such a tangible impact. This role has reinforced my belief that when we show up for each other with compassion and understanding, we can build a community where everyone feels seen, valued, and loved for exactly who they are.
I feel incredibly fortunate to be part of an organization like Encircle that provides the support and community to youth that I wish I had when I was younger. Today, I want to be vulnerable and share a personal part of my journey—the letter I wrote to my family ten years ago when I came out to them. It’s a reminder of how far we’ve come and how much work still lies ahead to ensure that every person feels accepted and loved for who they are. I hope that by sharing my story, I can offer a sense of hope and solidarity to anyone who might be struggling with their own.
Dear Family & Friends,
First off, I need to apologize to you. I am sure you have noticed I have been distant, much more distant than I wanted to be. The truth is that I didn't know how to talk to you about this. I wanted to, but I didn't know how. I didn't even know how to talk about this to myself, and I didn't want to take the risk of losing your presence in my life.
Let me start from the beginning. For many years I didn’t quite know how to verbalize what I am about to tell you. In truth, I didn’t have the courage to. So I did what I thought was best: I suppressed it, and I got really good at doing it. I thought I’d be able to do it throughout my whole life. What I never realized was that these suppressed feelings had been slowly snowballing within me, and it wasn’t until about a year ago that I found myself completely fragmented after being violently hit by this avalanche of emotions.
I think I began to wonder if there was something “wrong” with me when I hit those early teenage years and realized that all of my friends were virtually obsessed with girls while I was… well, not. I remember when I had my first contact with a Playboy magazine and realized that those images were doing things for my friends that were not happening for me. I didn’t give that too much thought, though. Back then, I would always just try to convince myself that I was “OK.” I had to rationalize things somehow, so I forced myself to believe that everyone was different, and people just reacted differently to certain things.
I have always been into spirituality. That’s an imperative in my life. I joined the LDS church because I wanted to. Even before I joined the LDS church, I was the most active Catholic in my family. I attended mass every Sunday because I wanted to, even if I had to do it alone. I joined prayer groups, participated in church activities, and did pretty much everything I could to nourish and strengthen my connection with God. I loved the rituals, the songs, the prayers, the lessons… If I could be any archetype, I would probably be the “bowing boy.” I honestly believed that my membership in the church would help me suppress these feelings that I can no longer deny.
Quite frankly, I have always been attracted to men. On some level, though, I believed that if I did everything right, if I were an example of “religious conduct” and lived every single commandment I knew, then I would be “earning my points” to get this big burden taken away from me. It was when that didn’t happen that my world came tumbling down. Admitting to myself that yes, I have always experienced homosexual feelings was very, VERY hard. At times I felt as though I were completely submerged in water. It felt like my lungs were failing. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and I was desperately trying to pop my head out and gasp for air. I had practically no one to turn to. At least I didn’t think I did. I was scared. More than anything, I was scared of people’s eyes and the judgment I would find in them. I didn’t feel like I could be understood.
I got to a point in my life where I realized that I didn't have a firm sense of self anymore. For many years I had been told exactly what to think and how to feel about the world around me. I got used to having my mind made up for me, suppressing myself, quieting my voice, and finding “comfort” in silence. Sustaining a fabricated, presentational self does not come without serious consequences. I found myself struggling with a lot of guilt, fear, anxiety, self-doubt, faithlessness, and much self-loathing. I felt fragmented, and in the midst of this mayhem of emotions, I couldn't help but feel disconnected. I was disconnected from my sense of self, disconnected from God, and disconnected from those around me.
People don't understand how emotionally draining this process really is. This is NOT a choice. I didn’t choose to feel this way. In fact, I have spent my whole life trying not to. At one point, I started thinking that maybe it would be better if I were just not here anymore. Maybe the pain of death would be less than the pain of inflicting so much suffering and embarrassment upon my family and myself.
Flirting with suicide is the darkest, gloomiest place I have ever been to emotionally. Here I was, on the verge of terminating my own life, while those around me had no idea! That’s when I knew I needed to reach out and seek help. I had to talk about it, and I had to talk about it out loud.
It was during this period of deep darkness and silent depression that I started hating my own lying. I wanted to get to a place where there wouldn’t be any more lies left. It was a lonely journey. Many were the days when I felt heavy-hearted, and my heavy-heartedness stabbed at me mercilessly. I was overwhelmed with an isolating sense of unworthiness that physically troubled my breathing and hurt my bones. I felt detached from my own life.
I found myself desperate for healing and yet traumatized by the very thing that for many years had been the "balm." Homosexuality is something that goes way beyond physical attraction. The attraction factor is definitely a fundamental part of it, but it is the emotional connection that makes everything different, and THAT is what is oftentimes misunderstood. It is the ability to be fully present in a relationship, the ability to both give and receive genuine love that changes everything.
I am in a relationship with Matt Bryce. He is a tremendous man and one of the most remarkable people I have ever met. We have gone through very similar experiences. Matt was in several church programs for several years, but after much suffering, depression, and loneliness, he, too, realized that orientation is inborn and can't be changed. He has been an incredible blessing in my life. I have never been this happy. It feels really good to have found real love and companionship.
I know this is A LOT to take in all at once, I really do! But I needed to tell you. I needed to let it all out and share everything with you. I don’t expect anyone to accept this overnight. It took me more than 27 years to accept myself as I am, so I certainly don’t expect you to accept this after just 10 minutes. Being vocal about this isn’t always easy, but I don't want to lie to you. I don't want to feel like an actor anymore. It is too painful. Sustaining an emotional lie is excruciatingly exhausting. I do love you very much, and I wanted to be as honest as I possibly can.
I am sorry if this is too much information to digest, and I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to tell you sooner. I am doing it now, though, because you matter to me and because, if you also want to, I want our relationship to continue to be a part of my life. I look forward to hearing back from you and addressing any questions you may have.
With much love,
Alex Cutini
According to research from The Trevor Project, LGBTQ+ youth with supportive adults in their lives are far less likely to attempt suicide than those without such support. At Encircle, we create safe spaces and foster a nurturing environment to provide the support these young people urgently need.
This National Coming Out Day, we are asking for your help to support these LGBTQ+ youth, young adults, and their families by donating today! Your contributions will directly impact youth and young adults by providing them with warm meals, mental health resources, and most importantly, a safe space where they can be their most authentic selves.
Thank you for your continued support, and for being an incredibly valuable part of the Encircle family.
Sincerely,
Alexandre Cutini
Encircle Executive Director
