What do you say to them?

A note to begin: I am not a paid therapist, nor am I a suicide prevention counselor. This post was written to share my own experience, strength, and hope--and what worked for me. If you or someone you love is depressed and considering suicide, there are places to help. Start here--the Trevor Project. 

A few weeks back, a friend reached out to me after hearing of yet another LGBT suicide attempt.

She wrote, “When I read about these suicides and attempts, my heart breaks. I’m at a loss of how to feel and what to think. Reading some of the things you’ve written has already helped me with discussions with my own children and I want us all to understand how to help LGBT kids—who simply want to be loved and recognized as being just the way their Father made them.

If you had the chance to spend time with a kid like the one who died—and I know you do talk to them—what do you say to them?” 

I understand the pain and the feeling of aloneness that drives individuals to want to end their suffering. I’ve walked through my own desperate moments, and shared those close calls openly in some of my interviews.

In my darkest moments, aloneness suffocated me like a heavy blanket. I felt spiritually weary, exhausted from trying to figure out where I fit in, weary of asking others for their help and their understanding, because there really was little to offer—regardless of where I seemed to turn.

I, too, have been at my breaking point: Faced with my own Sophie’s Choice. Do I choose to deny my sexual orientation—how my Father made me—and thereby give up any opportunity to have a loving intimate relationship with someone who loves me for who I really am? And, at the same time, be surrounded by my brothers and sisters in the gospel who have that opportunity—and see their relationships every week, or perhaps even every day—a constant reminder that my sentence is to grow old and leave this world alone?

Or do I walk away from a faith that I love so deeply—and perhaps my eternal family as well—and leave behind not just the religion I called home, but the people I called home as well? Do I leave the home where I found my Savior?

Which do I choose?

How do I choose?

Which path do I select when either choice will split my soul in two, and leave me with only half a life?

For me, the glimmer of hope was this simple realization:  I own my relationship with my Savior. No one, regardless of degree, wealth, or title, has the ability to build, strengthen or deny me that relationship. It is mine for the taking—and my Savior stands ready to meet me where I am. All I need to do is reach out.

For those who feel suffocated by that same blanket of aloneness and despair, I say this.

Don’t allow others to dictate your worth in the eyes of your Father. They cannot. And they should not. You are exactly who you're supposed to be, and you are exactly where you're supposed to be. Your Father loves you just the way you are.

I think LGBT Mormons and those who love us are kind of modern-day pioneers. Being a pioneer is hard work—it’s arduous, painful, and fraught with arrows, traps, and sometimes tragedy. But wrapped inside these difficulties is an amazing gift, if we so choose to see it—and that is the opportunity to build a better world for those who follow in our wake. We need one another, and our Savior needs us. There is not a single one of us who has the luxury of giving others enough power over us to make us give up the fight—independent of who that person is, or how powerful their voice may sound in our head.

When people have a problem with you being gay, it's nothing more than that: their problem. Don't make it your own. You have a choice where to focus your mental and spiritual time and energy. Don't waste it on those who don't—or won't—understand you. I am living proof that there's not only a home for you within our faith, but there is a *path* for you. We don't know all the answers and maybe never will in this existence--but we do know one. And that is that you're loved, that you're valuable, and that you're needed--just the way you are. 

It takes a strong spirit to be gay in this life. It takes a remarkable one to be a gay Mormon. Never doubt for a moment you are anything less than remarkable. For that is how I view you--and most certainly how our Father in Heaven does.

Want to learn more about helping LGBT youth stay safe?

The Family Acceptance Project has created a guidebook for caregivers, parents, clergy, and friends of LGBT youth. This book describes specific actions you can take today that are scientifically proven to reduce drug and alcohol use and abuse, STI risk, and reduce depression and suicide risk.

Download “Supportive Families, Healthy Children,” and learn what you can do as a friend, ally, parent or spiritual leader to help keep our youth safe.