To A Happy Place

This bridge near Monterey has meaning to me. Ten months ago, Rachelle, the kids, and I had an impromptu family   picture  here. It was a beautiful shot. The moment seemed happy. But there was so much pain that the picture didn’t capture. I was at the darkest point of a lifelong conflict. And the darkness wasn’t just affecting me; it was taking such a toll on the other people in that picture. The conflict? It starts with my being Mormon. I loved my faith. Mormonism was a part of who I was. It was true. It was how I would get back to God. I learned and believed this, starting as a child. But I also learned when I was young that this was not the case for someone who was gay. They didn’t go back to God. So, quietly and internally, I battled for years. I had to change. Because I wasn’t just Mormon; I knew pretty early on that being gay was also a part of who I was. But I loved and wanted to be with God. I’d do what it took. So the conflict became about making one part of my ide