But, is it a choice?

Some say that who you love is a choice. Many do not. My experience has made me ask myself “should it matter?” because, at the end of the day, the love I feel has nothing to do with anyone outside of my relationship.

Summer, 2018. Not to be dramatic, but that was the summer everything changed. It was the summer I told my parents about Melanie. I broke the news via an email, sent two weeks before I was supposed to visit my parents. I thought my parents would appreciate being able to react to the news privately, gather their thoughts, and prepare for the inquisition I would inevitably walk into. It was the least I could do.

Two weeks passed and the conversation happened. Many things were said. Some things felt filled with love. Others felt angry. There was a lot of confusion throughout. The thing that stood out the most was when my mom said “it would be easier if you were telling us you were gay. Then this wouldn’t be a choice.” and I sat with that for a minute. Was it a choice?

Growing up in the LDS church, I was taught to want to marry a worthy man, a man who lived the teachings of the church. A man who was able to take me to the temple to be sealed together for time and all eternity. Knowing that, wouldn’t it make sense for my parents to be disappointed if I brought home a man who wasn’t a member of the church? Because he couldn’t take me to the temple either. We would only ever be able to be married in this life, the same as if I ended up with Mel.

After sitting with that for a bit, I tried to put words to my thoughts. I tried to make them see that I didn’t choose to have feelings for Mel. If I had said I was dating a non-member man, would this be an issue (the answer was no)? The feelings I had for any man wouldn’t be viewed as a choice. In fact, they wouldn’t be considered at all. Am I choosing to act on the feelings that I’ve developed for Mel? Yes. But I want to be very clear that this is not something I chose to have happen.

Did that perspective make it easy on my parents? Definitely not. Did they hold out hope that I would come to my senses? One-hundred percent. Did they choose to let their beliefs cloud their ability to see the joy and happiness their daughter was experiencing? Yes.

I would be lying if I said that this was the only conversation my parents had with me about my feelings and the choices that accompanied them. Looking back though, I can see that in each and every one of those conversations, the person I chose was myself. I chose what I wanted over what was expected of me. I honored my desires instead of sacrificing them for the sake of my parent’s approval. For the first time, I chose me.