Always Choose Love

In honour and recognition of Pride Month, I would like to share my personal journey from ignorance to ally.

I was raised by my grandparents in a conservative, Christian household. We weren’t one of those Christmas and Easter church-going families, we were there every Sunday and then some. Saturday mornings were spent watching cartoons in my jammies, and Sunday mornings were spent at Sunday School learning bible stories - stories like Noah’s Ark, David and Goliath, Adam and Eve.

The way our church delivered the “gospel” was enticing - for the kids, there were games and activities to make it fun; for the teenagers, there was a youth band they could join with electric guitars and drum sets, it wasn’t just your old-fashioned church organ music - they were marketing geniuses.

From Sunday School to Vacation Bible Camp to Youth Group, I did it all. At home, my bedtime stories came from Christian-approved children’s books, I watched “appropriate” tv shows and movies, we prayed before every meal and I said my prayers before bed every night. I don’t have any memories of a time in my childhood when church wasn’t a core component of daily life. I grew up in the church, and I was raised to be a good little Christian girl.

My friends’ families weren’t church-goers like we were. I was always the odd one out when it came to that, though sometimes one of them would tag along with me. One time, I brought my friend, let’s call him Danny, to a Youth Group outing. We were going on a scavenger hunt around our town and then meeting back at the church for pizza and a movie. We were all out having a good time when one of the girls I knew through the church pulled me aside. She gestured towards Danny and whispered to me, “Is he… gay?” I told her I didn’t know and went back to my friend.

This stuck with me. I didn’t know; I’d never given it any thought, to me he was just Danny.

Growing up in a small town in rural Ontario during the 90s, I wasn’t exposed to anything but the traditional nuclear family. At home and within my extended family, all I saw was heterosexual relationships. It was the same in my friends’ families, neighbours, our church community, and the community at large. Hetero.

Sexuality, in any context, was never part of the discussion when I was growing up. I learned about anatomy and the changes I’d experience within my own body from a biological standpoint, about protecting myself against accidental pregnancy or diseases, but I never learned about heterosexuality let alone any alternatives to it.

Even in the media, there was very little representation of other lifestyles, so it never occurred to me that there were any other options. The only story I’d ever heard was Adam and Eve.

As I got older I gradually fell away from the church. At first, I stopped attending Sunday morning services but continued going to Youth Group. By the time I got to high school, I had decided for myself that it wasn’t “cool” to go to church anymore and I stopped going altogether.

My personal experience with the church had always been positive. We went to a Pentecostal church; it was a very come-as-you-are, welcoming atmosphere. There were people who came to church in their Sunday best, and there were people who came in jeans and a t-shirt, and all were accepted - what mattered was that you showed up. My church had been one of the good ones, but as I distanced myself from Christian culture, I began questioning the stories I’d grown up with.

Danny, as well as others I’d known since childhood, would eventually come out. When I found this out about him, I didn’t think of him any differently; his sexuality had no bearing on my opinion of him as a person. Yet I’d been conditioned to believe that this was wrong, sinful.

All of a sudden, the clear blue skies I’d been promised if only I followed the road map laid out for me in those bible stories was shrouded in fog. It didn’t feel right and I didn’t know what to believe. I didn’t understand how an institution that claims to be centred around a being that is the embodiment of pure love can preach such hate and fear. I began to recognize that the stories I’d been told were oppressive propaganda masquerading as “the gospel truth.”

I found myself at a crossroads with no map. For the first time, I had to use my own compass, find my own way.

Navigating this new reality on my own was like being in a foreign place where I didn’t understand the language; I didn’t know how to communicate or interact. I was uncomfortable, and I was ashamed of my discomfort.

To avoid the discomfort and the shame that came along with it, I avoided the situations that caused it. In my family, it was tradition to sweep things under the rug and not rock the boat, so that’s exactly what I did. I was aware of the LGBTQ+ community, I was not against them, but I chose not to engage. I minded my own business and I didn’t involve myself with things that didn’t concern me.

Working in sales and customer service I encountered clientele from all walks of life, including members of the LGBTQ+ community, and it was my job to engage with my clients. With each interaction, I became more comfortable, but I remained detached.

I remained in this mindset for a long time. Too long. It wasn’t until I developed close personal relationships with members of the LGBTQ+ community that I fully realized the error of my ways and recognized the need for change in both my mindset and behaviour.

I was raised in a homophobic environment. I learned homophobic ideologies right along with learning the alphabet. As a teenager and young adult, I engaged in homophobic behaviour and speech as a result of my upbringing and the society I existed within. I didn’t know any better then, but now I do.

I have removed oppressive, homophobic language from my vocabulary. I recognize the discrimination against the LGBTQ+ community for the injustice it is, and I realize now that injustice against any human being is of concern to me. I am consciously choosing to educate myself and offer support. I consider myself to be an ally, and I will no longer be a silent bystander. I have a lot to learn, but I am here - ready and willing.

What I’ve come to realize is this: Life in this world does not promise clear blue skies. With the right mindset, though, it doesn’t need to be foggy. It can be a beautiful sunrise with different colours all blending together to create something beautiful - magical.

If there is a choice between fear and love, always choose love.

Capital Pride 2019 - Ottawa, ON