In this podcast episode, host Richard Osler interviews Z, a 21-year-old university student and recently returned missionary. Z shares his vulnerable story of growing up in an international family, his childhood affinity for feminine activities which led to bullying, and his early teenage recognition of attraction to men—a feeling he suppressed for years. He discusses entering a relationship with a girl at 16, driven partly by a hope to "prove" he wasn't gay, and how its end coincided with the pandemic's onset, plunging him into a severe depressive episode during a period of extreme isolation in Utah. This crisis forced him to confront his sexuality and faith; while his spiritual feelings dimmed, logical belief sustained him. After moving back to California, he experienced an emotional breakdown, leading to a pivotal moment of receiving comfort from his mother. Z then began a gradual process of coming out to friends, often finding mutual disclosure, which was met with love and support. He frames his narrative with quotes about the need to be fully known and loved and the inevitability of hurt in human relationships, presenting his story as one of ongoing hope, self-acceptance, and the transformative power of vulnerability.
[MUSIC] Welcome listeners to another episode of Listen, Learn, and Love hosted by Richard Osler. I guest on today's podcast recording this in our home in Salt Lake City as my new friend Z Blanchard. Welcome to the podcast Z. >> Thanks, Bob. I'm Z. We're happy to be here. >> And I like it when people call me pop-ass or those of you know that that's my social media sort of nickname and I'm fine. I'm with that name it. As a side note, it started because when I got on Twitter, our kids were in high school and I wanted to let the high school kids know that I was not a high school kid. [LAUGHTER] And it all started when I started tweeting about the weather and giving the high school kids the weather update, which is one of my other interests. So that's the origin of pop-ass or now it's kind of drifted in a good way to the LGBTQ spaces and trying to be an ally. Let me tell you a little bit about Z. I'm really grateful to have him on the podcast. I met him at a gathering event recently and just got a chance to visit with him and his friends and said Z. If you'd ever like to share your story on the podcast, it's just an open invitation and he took me up on that. And let me tell you a little about Z. He was born in Utah. He spent time in Costa Rica. He spent time in San Diego. That's probably his main home. Then he spent time in Ecuador. And this is all before his mission to the Argentine of Buenos Aires, North Mission. You recently returned. When did you return, Z? About seven weeks ago. So that would be in August. Or was it late July? Late July. So late July, 2024. Z is just turning 21 as we're recording this podcast. He's at UVU. He's a global political major. He's the youngest of four. He's three older sisters. Their married. His parents live in Ecuador. So this is a very international family. And Z is going to share his stories of bisexual. I already said and I read his outline and it's so brave and vulnerable. And I just admire his courage and respect for be able to share his story. Some of my guests are kind of at the end of the story. They figured it all out. And they kind of know where they're headed. And a lot of my guests are kind of in the middle of their story. They still haven't written the future chapters. And they may first think, well, I can't come out of podcasts. I've got it all figured out. But this is a podcast that I think is great for people like Z who have got a lot figured out. There's a lot of his life ahead of him to continue to figure that and just share his story where he is right now. That may help you a listener who is serving the middle of your story or even in the beginning of your story. Z is all about hope. I think that's one of the things as we prayed before the podcast that history will give you hope. Especially if you're queer, later they say and working through the really complicated space you may feel and the darkness of that that you may feel in the impression of that you may feel. And our prayers that just gives you more hope as you hear Z story. So he's just a remarkable man top notch young man in my interaction two interactions with him and just honored to have him on the podcast. So is that okay for an introduction? That's perfect. Thank you so much. It's an honor to be here and you're up Z. All right. Well, before I share a bit of my story, I wanted to explain why I'm doing this because do the trans course of these past years. I've learned that there is so much power and vulnerability being able to share your story with someone else really is so impactful and can be life changing. I watched the way that some of the people shared their stories and it kept me alive physically and spiritually. And now I feel I have this beautiful opportunity to do the same thing. So I'm super happy about that. I wanted to start with two quotes to kind of begin the frame of my story and explain a bit about why I'm doing this. The first comes from Tim Keller is my favorite quote of all time and he says to be loved but not known is comforting but superficial to be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is well, a lot like being loved by God. And that is so powerful. And so I hope that this gives you the opportunity to truly know me a bit more. And I promise I'll truly love you. The next quote that I love comes from on to on this song, like superly. If I hope I pronounced that right, I'm setting French and doling go for a couple of years and he says translated. Of course, I'll hurt you. Of course, you'll hurt me. Of course, you will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence to become spring means accepting the risk of winter to become presence means accepting the risk of absence. And I think that's the essence of what these episodes are about what the essence of showing one's story is about. There's going to be some things that I say that maybe you'll disagree with that might be hard for you to hear. But to be human is to hurt others and to learn how to reconcile that pain and love as God loves either way. So with that little introduction, those two quotes that I love, I'm going to start from the very beginning my childhood years. Because for me, I'm one of those people that I have always felt an attraction towards men. I've just always known that part of me, but I never. It wasn't that I always recognized it because I didn't want to. I wasn't denial for a very long time. But I'm as Papa Austin mentioned, I'm the son of two incredible people with three daughters and then me, the only boy the youngest. And so I was raised in the sphere of a femininity, no, instead of going out and and racing trucks or building things that the panorad derby is a lot more watching Barbie movies and playing dress up because that's just what my childhood was. And I never once questioned it. I know I loved every second of it. It was so much fun. But it meant that in addition to my queer identity as a child, I was also raised in a much more feminine fashion. And I had a lot of people kind of fight back from that. It was it was hard. Just like most people, I felt like everyone experienced a system difficulty when they're younger, but I was bullied for being too feminine. I was called the girl. Just things like that. And that caused me to feel a lot of shame. Evidently and obviously now. But I was able to work through that. And I remember as I go older, I really started to become more confident who I was. And I think that was partly because my parents are just so incredible at building me up. They helped me recognize that no matter what I'm loved and that I have a place and I can love what I love. And that's okay. But when it comes to my sexuality, I think that when I was 12, it was the first time that I really admitted to myself that I had an attraction towards men. I remember I was watching a TV show with my sister's something on Disney Channel, I'm sure. And his character came on the screen and I looked at him. And I think one of them commented that he was attractive. And I was like, yeah, he is. I was like, geez. But then I had this moment. I was like, Oh, what was that? And I was like, well, you know what that was. And at this point, I'm old enough that I can recognize when I'm lying to myself. And I was like, okay, that was a thing. And I was like, that can't be real. I mean, okay, we're going to move past that we're going to put that on the shelf and move forward. So that's what I did. And so then in my early teens, I just made a lot of friends. I've always been very extroverted, very comfortable with meeting people, loving people. I've had this big heart my whole life. And so I kind of made myself into the ladies man. I remember I had so many friends that were girls and all of them said, Oh, I just wish I could date you because all of the other boys are stupid. But then there was always something there that kept us from actually going out or pursuing this, right? Of course, I had my childhood crushes had like all of those things as everyone does. But it was it was funny to wait. There was kind of a barrier there. And throughout that whole time, which was a very happy childhood, I had this constant fear in the back of my mind of this attraction that I was feeling. And I felt like I needed to tell my parents and I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I remember walking in their room when they weren't home looking in the mirror, like just like just all these little things being like I need to tell them I need to do it tonight. I need to do it. And I'd go in and tell them about my day and I'm like, maybe today's a day. Maybe I can do it. And I just couldn't bring myself to do it because I was so scared and so ashamed. And so it continued like that for years. It was years of me thinking I need to tell my parents and not doing it. But instead I just put it on the back burner and do myself into school sports friends media just everything. And I enjoyed it. I loved it. And then I got older. I got to dating age and I was ecstatic. I was so excited to be able to date because like I said, I have this big heart. I have so much love for people and I just wanted to girlfriend with my whole soul. I was so excited. So I remember I got my first girlfriend. It was just a couple months after I turned 16. And I wanted it to work so bad because part of it was just because I'm hopeless romantic. I thought it was so fun to have a girlfriend to do all the things that couples do. Watch shows together just everything I loved it. And then there was also this other part of me that was much more hidden, much more subconscious and much more full of fear. That was this idea that I had to make it work with this girl because she was my only chance because I can't make it work with her. It means I'm gay and I can't be gay and I can make it work with this girl. I can make it work with any girl. And so that was kind of my thought process. But obviously that's not how it works. And it ended up being a really beautiful and growing relationship but also very difficult because we both were 16 and we both had our own mental health struggles. And it was just a lot of emotions, very, very messy relationship. But I'm so grateful for it. I'm so grateful for her because we were able to learn so much from each other. And it was short because it got completely cut off by the pandemic. I was 16 years old when the pandemic hit in
in March of 2020. And when it hit, she moved to Idaho and I moved to Utah for just the summer. And that ended up being the beginning of one of the most difficult experiences and periods in my life. Because when things didn't work with this girl and we broke up, it was a smack to the face where I was catastrophizing and I thought, well, if I can't make it work with this girl, I can't make it work with any girl. Like I must not be into women. And I said, I can't be that way. That can't be right. I was so terrified. And so I just fell into that negative and harmful thought pattern right as we went into this intense period of isolation. And when I moved to Utah to Cedar City, we moved to this 1950s home that we were renting out to college students but had been vacated because of the pandemic. And I was in this tiny room that literally was the size of a closet. And we were so intensely isolated because of different factors in my family that we could not get sick because we had a lot of ones that could literally die if they were contaminated. And so I was there for four months. And I, for the first time in my life, understood what it means to truly entirely be without hope. I experienced hopelessness in the very sense of the word. And this was so impactful for me because I had always been the happiest kid on earth. You ask anyone that knew me when I was a kid and there's always a smile. And I'm that way today. I remember on my mission just to jump ahead a little. I had a member look at me and then look at my companion and almost indignant. She asked him, does he smile when he sleeps? Seriously, you can't work the smile off this kid's face. And so that's just the way I'd always been. And so it was such a stark contrast in juxtaposition, this depression that I fell into. And it's not the same time of the Black Lives Matter movement and my heart just ached for these incredible people who were suffering such injustices. And looking back on it now, I think it was just me identifying with this group of marginalized people as a marginalized person in a completely different sense. Of course, I would never want to compare our experiences. But I felt this deep and abiding empathy for this group. And as I fell deep into this depression and intense isolation, I began to explore these questions of race, of sexuality, of women in the church. And suddenly, my faith was not as solid as it has always been because my entire childhood, I had been so close to God. God means everything to me and has always meant everything to me. And so even though I was having these big questions, I would say that the only thing that kept me alive in those intense periods of moments and months of isolation was the direct hand in influence of God, because it was so dark and so hopeless. I remember writing my journal that for the first time my life, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. And yet, I just knew, even though I couldn't feel it, logically, I knew God was present, Christ was present. And it was interesting the way that at that time in my life, because of the depression, logic was the only thing that was holding me close to my faith. Well, in the past and today, it is spiritual experience. It's feeling God in my life. It's experiencing God having God awoken within me. But at this time, it really was just the logical knowledge and the memory of the experiences that I had had. So this period was super, super impactful for me. And it really helped shape what would come next. Because after this intense isolation, me beginning to think about these important questions and topics, we moved back to California. It was only four months in this house in Cedar City. And it was just the breath of fresh air. I got there and I thought I was cured of my depression. I thought I was completely out. I was like, sweet, I got it, I'm done. And I was able to drive again. I was able to go out with friends. I was able to breathe. I was still online. I was still doing school online for my whole junior year after that. But it was just this freedom that I was able to reclaim, especially in comparison with Cedar City locked down. It was completely different. But I remember one day, a couple months into swim season after being in California for probably three or four months, we knew that we were moving to Ecuador, which is a whole different story. But we felt really inspired that we needed to move to Ecuador about a year early and we've been preparing for it. And so this moved back to California was a temporary thing. But we knew we needed to move to Ecuador, we just didn't know when, because the pandemic and laws and God's timing. And so that uncertainty was really weighing down on me, because we love to know what's coming next. And at this time, at point in my life, I adored certainty. Certainty gave me comfort. Certainty gave me peace. And I think that's why God took away some of that certainty so that Christ would give me comfort and Christ would give me peace. I had made certainty into this idol of sorts, this thing that gave me what I needed. And now looking back, I see the way that God has turned me back towards them. And I use God in the terms of heavenly parents, because that's how I best feel to identify with divinity. So I'm in California. I'm living this life that I'm just so free I feel within restrictions still, because it's still 2020. But I remember after some practice, I went upstairs, my parents are downstairs, and I go into the bathroom and I closed the door and out of nowhere, I just collapsed on the floor and I just started sobbing. And I sobbed and I sobbed and I couldn't stop crying. And I'm reciting there being like, what is going on? Why do I feel so heavy? And then there was this part of me that wept and thought, I thought I was over this. I thought I was done. I had this depression and I left it behind in Cedar City. I was so hopeful that this could be the end of this painful journey and I could go back to this blissful, happy state. And if anyone knows Jared Halverson's talk, don't let a good faith crisis go to waste. I'd say I was in that fall in the stage of nostalgia as I wished and wished I was still in the creation stage. I said it was so much simpler. And I don't remember exactly how that went, but I remember opening up the door while I was sobbing and I couldn't stop. It was uncontrollable and I couldn't even figure out why. But I opened up the bathroom door just hoping that one of my parents downstairs would hear my sob and come running to me because I didn't have the strength to go get them, but I needed so badly to be held. And luckily it happened. After some time, I remember my mom coming up the stairs and seeing me and just embracing me, just holding me as I sobbed. And I couldn't put into words what I was feeling because I didn't recognize that there were seeds of depression left over, seeds of internalized homophobia I need to work through the beginnings of a faith crisis. There were so many things that I was dealing with and on another note, I had a lot of big, big family problems going on at the same time and some trauma there that I had yet to resolve. And so everything was on my shoulders but I'd put everything on that metaphorical shelf. And so I was just, I was sat down and crossed my arms and I said, the nostalgia phase is my phase. I'm staying here forever and as little spoiler there, I did not because God had so many more plans for me. And so the months continued and even though this was super hard, I just moved on, I kept living because we just coexist with these feelings that we feel. But as I progressed, I began to come to terms with my sexuality. I realized that I was in fact attracted to men and that wasn't going to change. I never was one to pray to God asking for it to change because I knew it just wasn't going to happen for me. I just hoped my prayer was often make a woman more, just like make me want more women more than wanting men. And as a side note, I definitely lean towards men and I'm still figuring out my sexuality but I think that's okay. It's a journey, it's a process. And so if you feel that way or anyone who's listening that you don't quite know how you identify, you don't understand attraction, I know it can be so stressful and I'm working through it right now but just know that that's okay. Be still, have peace because no matter how you choose to identify, if you even choose to adopt a label, you can always know that God loves you infinitely and perfectly. And that's something that's taken me a long time to get to. And so I began coming out to friends and family little by little, mostly friends at first as most people do. I remember telling my best friend, but it was funny because there was this little thing where someone, I had come out to someone and they'd come out right back to me. It was almost as if I went to the people that I thought, you know, you're a little sus. I think you might be like me, so that means I can trust you. And I'd come out to them and it was this cool experience where I was finally able to admit that this is something that I'd been experiencing for so long and it's been so hard and so beautiful but right now it's more harder than beautiful but this is where I'm at and I hope you love me exactly where I'm at. And it was incredible to see the way people responded with love, with support, with compassion. And then on Valentine's Day of 2021, just a handful of months from move to Ecuador, I was with my parents in the living room on a Sunday and they had decided that Sunday that we were gonna listen together about a podcast about sex. And I think it's so funny because my parents are amazing and they are just great in the way that they try to communicate everything. And they wanted to destigmatize and take away any taboo that I may have felt because they wanted to be able to have an open and honest conversation with me about any questions I may have as I'm developing into myself and exploring
understanding all of these feelings because I was 17 at this time. And I remember laying there stirring at the wall, my brain is racing. I barely listened to the podcasts and like, am I coming out just then? I'm coming out just today, today's the day. And this is a question I'd been asking myself since I was 12 years old. It's been five years of thinking today's the day and then chickening out. And I don't want to say chickening out. I ask that you forgive that phrase because it's not about cowardice that holds us back. It is about fear in a lot of ways, but it also is about the right timing. And I think God plays a very large role in helping us decide when and to who we are to come out and to what extent. And so we're listening to this podcast and at the end, they pause it and they say, what were your thoughts? Like, did you have any questions? We'd love to talk about this. And I just sat up spun around and I said, I am about to throw a curve ball at you. And they were looking me and go, okay, like, what is it? And I just looked at them and I said, I'm attracted to men. I'm bisexual. And it just felt like there's a weight off my shoulders. And I'd never feared about the way they'd react because my parents are the most incredible loving and compassionate people. But I also knew it wouldn't be easy and that it would throw them for a spin. We are active members of the Church of Jesus Christ. And this doesn't quite fit perfectly into our our ideology and belief system. And so I knew this would be hard. And I remember they just embraced me. They just held me. And I remember just crying to them and telling them a little bit, not the full story, but just a little bit about my experiences. And they just told me that they loved me infinitely and perfectly. And that that that would never change the most incredible reaction. And I mean, if you're a parent and you didn't react that way and you're feeling like, oh, I'm a terrible person, you don't need to worry because they're just as imperfect as all of us. They followed up that immense spout of love with just focus on woman. It'll make your life easier if you just focus on woman. You'll be fine. And so I remember I had the next probably month or two. I was I had the on loop my brain focus on woman, focus on woman. It didn't last too long. So I realized that is not going to work. And that is not how this works. But I never I never felt resentment towards them for saying that or reacting in any other way because I knew that it was a process. Definitely impatience, I think, because it's hard. But never resentment. I love them so much. And so I continued trying to figure out my identity and by June of 2021, we moved to Ecuador. And this was something that I was actually ecstatic about. I had been so so excited because I lived in Costa Rica, as you mentioned, when I was 10 years old. And so I already have experienced not America and speaking Spanish for 12 years. And I just love the culture. I love the language. And I needed I needed a new experience. And looking back now, I wonder if I needed an escape. I wonder if I thought by leaving, I'd be able to just breathe instead of having the expectations and ideas of others constantly weighing down on my shoulders, having lived in San Diego for I think six or seven years already. And when we arrived, it was almost as if we had gone back in time. The COVID restrictions were exactly what they were a year before in the United States. And there were days where we weren't allowed to drive because something called Biko Iblaca, where depending on the number of your license plate, there are two days of the week where you cannot use your car. And we moved into this beautiful apartment, but I call it the glass castle because it was so pristine because it was our family members are not blood, but you know, our family members home. So pristine with the most incredible glass and ornate elements everywhere, artwork and everything you can imagine to make this beautiful apartment, but you could barely walk without knocking something over. And I couldn't go outside because of the restrictions. And if I could go outside, you could get robbed. My mom went out on a run about a month or two living there and she got robbed at knife with a knife. And so we're living in this place. And I have no friends. I can't go outside this house that I live in. I can barely do anything because it's so ornate. And suddenly, I began to fall back into this this dark place of depression. And once again, it was this thought process of what the heck I thought I was done with this. And it's so funny that I thought that I'd be able to just pack it up and put it on the shelf like I'd been doing for so long. But at the same time, this intense period of isolation, part two, lasted about, I think we're there for three months before school started. And it was dotted with a lot of beautiful experiences. We were able to travel all around Ecuador. It's a very small country, but with everything you could imagine, we had family friends who were actually people who accepted the gospel and chose to make a covenant with God with my father as one of the missionaries teaching them. They got married and had children and those children are my family. They are my best friends. And so we were able to experience Ecuador with this amazing family. And so as I'm dealing with these feelings and experience of depression and darkness and sadness, I am having these belts of light that are keeping me afloat as I'm traveling the country with with these people. And then on the weekdays, my parents, my sister are working nine to five or sometimes even later just trying to make money and support us living in Ecuador. And I'm in my room by myself in this glass castle. I began to explore queer media for the first time while I was there. I remember watching Love Victor, Love Simon, Heart Stopper when it came out. I began reading books like Song of Achilles, they both die in the end, just little like little things that were very identity affirming. And it was the first time I left it as a long myself to do this. And like I've mentioned, various times, I have a huge heart and I'm a hopeless romantic. And so being able to watch Love unfold in a way that feels personal to me was the most incredible experience. The C2 boys fall in love was healing in a way that I was not expecting. And so I began to explore these things, but at the same time, growing resentment began to form within me as I recognized and felt that I don't have a place in this church. I don't have a space to exist. They don't want me here. And the messages I'm receiving is that I made wrong. I don't fit in God's plan. All of these horrible narratives are in my brain. And suddenly when I'm watching queer media or reading or whatever it may be or talking with other queer friends, I feel loved and affirmed and safe. And when I'm at church, I'm scared and I'm nervous. What are they going to say next? What quarter they're going to bring up? Are we going to talk about the family proclamation for the 10th time this month? And I have nothing against that document. I think there are beautiful truths outlined, but it gets really hard when the constant narrative is around this thing that just doesn't quite fit you and that you just don't quite fit in. And I know that's a very shared experience, but it was a very, very powerful and heart-wrenching one for me. There were days that I distinctly remember sitting in the car outside of a chapel just sawing. I couldn't bring myself to go inside. And I logically knew it was very unlikely that I'd hear something harsh or aggressive towards the queer community. It's not a topic that's crazy, often mentioned in Latin America. I mean, it's definitely there, but like the spheres I was in, the ward I was in, it wasn't a big topic, but just mentally and emotionally knowing that this institution or feeling better said that this institution doesn't want me there made me feel like I shouldn't be there in the first place. Incredibly unwelcome. My parents came out multiple times and they'd try to bring me inside. They'd try to give me a hug, but I just couldn't do it. Remember my friends would come out of the church building after Sacramidding and I'd lay on the floor on the dirty mats and hide hoping that they wouldn't come and find me in the car because how was I supposed to tell them? I can't go inside right now. I can't bring myself to listen to the messages because all I can think about and every message is being translated in my brain to say, you don't belong, you're not welcome here and God doesn't love you. And I recognize how extreme that is, especially for someone who may be unfamiliar with a queer person's journey or experiences in the church. Those are very extreme phrases and I recognize that, but I also think it's important to note the mental state that I was in and the crisis that I was experiencing. When I say that those the phrase that church were translated in that way, I mean it. You could say God loves the family and it's important to have a family unit to grow and experience change and transformation. And my brain would interpret that as you need a family in order to be worthy in this gospel. You need a family in order to grow. That means you need a wife. You need to be a husband. You need to have kids. You need to get married in the temple. And if you don't fit this prescribed outline, you're not welcome here. And it's it's almost ridiculous and outstanding the way that it's so twisted. But when you are struggling and working through trauma and turnlized homophobia, that's the way your brain is wired. And you need to do therapy or intensive work with yourself and your brain and with God in order to overcome those thought processes. And I think that's important for people to know when their loved ones leave the church. Sometimes the messages are being so horribly translated every time they walk in those building the building and sit on those pews that they are hurt every
every time they go to church. And so if they need to take a step away, sometimes that is the most important thing in healing. And while I didn't stop going to church, besides the times I stayed outside of the chapel, I would strongly argue that I was not active in that year because I just felt so much hatred, resentment, and more than anything anger and pain. And so I'm in the midst of this faith crisis. And I'm very vocal about it with my parents because they allowed me to be, which is beautiful. I remember telling them on multiple occasions that I'm hanging on by a rope and that rope has been cut down, little by little. And there is a tiny strand, a tiny thread keeping me here. And I have no idea why it was ridiculous to me. I said, why is this still here? Why am I still hanging on? But there was something divine about that strand. If any of you have seen Hercules, there's a part at the end when they try to cut someone's life strand and this scissors can't cut the line because Hercules is a God. And that's exactly how I felt. I felt like I had a pair of scissors and I was aggressively going out at that strand holding me connected to this church, to this institution and in some ways to God. And in my heart, I tried, I could not cut it. And I testify that that was divine intervention because God could not and would not let me go. And I promised they won't let you go either. Things giving break was an impactful time for me because I was in the midst of this faith crisis, this depression, this figuring out my sexual orientation. And in all honesty, the light had completely gone from my eyes. My sister had just gone back from her mission during this break. The rest of my family came to visit and it was so obvious to everyone that something was wrong. This bright and happy and smiley kid was just gone. There was something so, so wrong. And I remember sitting on my bed, probably watching a gay TV show to try to affirm my identity at like midnight. And my sisters came in and they closed the door. They sat on my bed and they looked at me and they said, all right, let's talk. Something's not right here. And we love you and we want to know what's going on. And I just broke down sobbing. And I told them I don't want to take my life. But if I'm being honest with you right now, I have nothing to live for. It's been so long that I've been in this darkness. And I see no hope for the future. I thought I did. Until I realized that there's no place for me here. I thought I did until I realized I was made wrong. And I just don't want to be alive anymore. And I'm not experiencing suicidal ideation, but I just don't want to be alive anymore. And they wept and they helped me and they told me, Z, Tegan, that is a very slippery slope. They asked permission to go get my dad and they did and they woke him up. I always feel bad because it's midnight and your daughter's come and grab you and say, Tegan's not okay. But they brought him in and she just hugged me. And I remember looking up at him two tears and I said, Dad, can I go to therapy? And through tears, he just hugged me and he said, of course you can. Of course. And that was the beginning of a very, very healing experience. I began life coaching or therapy with the most incredible person, Jill Freestone. She's very active in this sphere. And I remember our first session was a consulting session. And I thought we were going to talk more about my drama, my sexuality, whatever it is. And we talked a bit about that. But the primary focus of this story of this experience and this conversation was on Heavenly Mother, surprisingly enough. And it was so powerful. We talked about Mother God and divine feminine in a way that I had never heard and never experienced. And it was this spark that ignited within me as I thought, there is multiple definitions of divinity, if that makes sense. And if there's a more expensive understanding of God, then maybe there's more a more expensive understanding of me. And I think I even empathized with Heavenly Mother, this divine equal partner with the Father, who is so often sideline and hushed and forgotten. And in a lot of ways, I felt sideline and hushed and forgotten. And so connecting with my mother was like connecting with myself. And I had struggled in those previous months to pray to God because I was just not because I was mad at God because I never was. I knew that God, the Father wasn't punishing me, but it just hurt so bad to not understand and to not get any answers. But this began a transformative relationship between me and Christ and our Heavenly Parents, me with the divine family because I began to understand it and a much more complete light. And right after that, I went to Utah. I visited my family in Utah and it was amazing. I needed to break out of this tight, enclosing sphere, this box that I felt I had been trapped in for so long. I just needed to go and breathe. I remember I arrived in the United States and I was shocked because I could go to the park at night and no one would rob me. I could drive a car and I wouldn't get hit. I could be out late at night and I would be fine. I had friends, I had a family. I could do, to me, it felt like I could do whatever I wanted. And this was a freedom that I hadn't experienced in six months since I'd moved to Ecuador. That was just no more than six months because of the pandemic. This was a freedom I hadn't experienced since March of 2020. It had been I think almost two years since I'd been able to go and experience life normally. And I remember I just I did just about everything stupid. I never broke my mind so I'm really impressed with myself. I won't lie because I kept that line. But I remember sneaking into basketball games, going to school with one of my friends pretending I was a student, telling a teacher I had in the year before. I guess that's lying. So that is a commitment to and I have her pendant since you rest assured. But just all these little things where I just did whatever I wanted. I remember I made out with someone for the first time. It's important to know it was a girl. But like all of the just like these things that didn't like I was going to bed at three in the morning. It really wasn't that big of a deal. But to me, it was everything because I finally was breathing and living and experiencing. And when I moved back when I went back to Equal Roaks, it was about a two three trip to the United States. We moved into a new house. We left the glass castle, which was one of the greatest blessings of my time living there being able to leave that place. And we moved into this private neighborhood where I could go outside. I could go to the park at night. I had friends. It was safe. And our house was beautiful. We had a pool in our backyard. And I had a room that was just so beautiful with this view and just so free. And I my we bought little scooters that I could ride around the neighborhood. And it was like these little baby steps that were allowing me to have freedom once again be able to breathe again. Because not only did I feel trapped physically in my location, I felt trapped spiritually in this religion. I felt trapped in my sexuality because I was kept in this box. And every sense of the word I felt trapped my first six months in Ecuador. And so the second six months was all about expansion and being alive and breathing again. And so living in this place and having that vacation, all these things really helped me to break through this little box that I was in. And it was still very painful. I was going to therapy once a week and working through a lot of things, working through big questions like, do I even want to be part of this religion? Do I still want to serve a mission? How do I identify? How do I feel about how I identify? And it was so cool to explore all these big questions with Jill in an incredibly safe space. It was awesome. And although I had so much anger and resentment towards the church, something just told me I needed to serve a mission, which is crazy. But I'd wanted to my whole life and I felt it like even as I'm cussing, as I'm angry and I'm yelling with my parents about all this frustration and my soul and questioning absolutely everything. I'm still like, but I feel like I need to serve a mission, like I need to go and serve. And so I turned in my papers, which was crazy and love itself. And I began to prepare. And I just kind of put it in God's hands. Specifically at this point, I put this in my Heavenly Parents' hands and I said, I'm giving it all to you because you're the one who's telling me I need to do this. And I trust you with everything in me because you are so much greater than I am. And you know so much more. And up until this point, you have made my life into most beautiful tapestry, despite the hard moments, the darkness, the depression. And I trust that whatever you tell me to do next is just going to be another beautiful part.
part of this piece. And then general conference of April 22 came around. And even though I'm at this point with my relationship with God and Christ, that's just so beautiful and expansive and stronger, I think it ever had been. Relationship with the church was not. It was so, so lacking. And so I was so scared to listen to general conference. I think a lot of career individuals and people with big questions and struggles can relate that general conference is not always the most positive or expansive opportunity. Since my mission, I've grown to adore general conference, but at this time, it was very scary. It was a very scary experience for me. I skipped the first session, I think maybe the first two, but on the drive home from the beach, because we're on vacation when we were listening to general conference, on the drive home, we were listening. And I remember that the there was a specific talk that was shared. And in the spirit of transparency, I'll happily admit it was Elder Oaks's talk in April of 2022. I think it's called Divine Love in the Father's Plan, which is a beautiful title. But going back to the way my brain had been coded, this talk was translated to be one of the most ugly and painful things I'd ever heard in my entire life. I've gone back and read its sense, and I recognize there's some hard things, but there's some beautiful things as well. But for me, because of the mental state I was in, I received this as one of the leaders of the church telling me, "I do not, and I will never ever belong. I was made wrong. I don't fit in God's plan, and I'm done." And I remember sitting there and my family was distraught because they were like, they've been with me on this journey. I remember I said to just grabbing my arm and rubbing it, and my mom looking back at me with tears in her eyes, and I've never seen her so much at a loss of words. Because the look on her face was, I don't know what to tell you. I'm so sorry. I'm just as lost as you are. She reached back and she grabbed my hand and I just sobbed, and I remember pretty on sunglasses because I was like, "I'm so done. I'm so done." And if we're going back to the faith transition model, I would say after a very intense bout of bitterness, I just reached apathy. I was so done. I was exhausted. I'd been fighting to be a part of this religion and this organization and this church for so long. And I was like, "Why am I slowly killing myself spiritually and emotionally to be a part of this organization that just doesn't want me? Why am I giving so much of myself to this?" I had my call at this point. I knew I was serving a mission. I think after, I don't know if it was before, after this experience, I told my parents, "Just because I have my call doesn't mean I have to serve." And they both liked to me and they said, "We respect you and whatever decision you make." But going back to this oats talk, I stayed in the car and my parents went out to get food because we were with another family at this time and they went to distract the family so I could have my moment. And I'm sitting in the car by myself and if you heard the video that I really heard or watched the video, I released a couple weeks ago, you've already heard this story, but I'm sitting in the car and I am just so done. And I remember looking up at the sky and I just screamed to God, to heaven. I just don't understand. It was a lot louder than that. And immediately, without a fraction of hesitation, I got a text from my sister. It was so perfectly and precisely immediate. It only could have been divine. And it said, "They love you." And I recognized that. I was like, "That's special." But I was so hurt, so wounded and in such a dark place, I couldn't even recognize it as something from God. I couldn't feel anything. And so I continued to cry and I don't know how much longer it was when I yelled to God again. I'm guessing me on 16, 90 seconds, but I just yelled up what am I supposed to do now? And immediately, I got a second message from my sister, once again, perfectly and precisely timed, that just said so much. And today in sacrament meeting, someone shared something that was so beautiful that I like to share with you guys that I think really exemplifies this experience. Somebody in sacrament today said, "Sometimes answers from God are I hear you answers as opposed to yes or no answers." And that day, I didn't get a yes or no answer, but I got an "I hear you" answer. And even more importantly, for me, I got an "I love you" so much answer from my heavenly parents, from my mother and from my father, and nothing could have been more unique. And precise to what I needed in that moment. And for whatever reason, that translated my brain as many things do, but that experience translated in my brain as you need to serve a mission. And I think that I would argue that is one of the very few experiences that was translated correctly. All of the other things, I think we're just my internal isomorphobia. But from that moment, I knew I would be accepting this call and I would serve. And so I finished up high school. I graduated out of this amazing school in Ecuador called Agadama Kota Baxi. And I was going to go to Utah right before my mission just to meet my nephew to say about my family and leave. Probably a week before I left I think it was the original plan. But for some reason, I felt so inspired that I needed to go early. I needed to go by myself without my parents and fly to Utah six weeks before my mission as opposed to spending that extra five weeks in Ecuador with my parents. And I remember tentatively and almost tearfully bringing this up with my parents because I knew it would cost money to change the plane ticket. I knew it would be hard on my parents because they're about to lose me for two years. And it would be so hard to lose me earlier because they just are the most incredible loving people. Especially I knew it would be hard on my dad. And so I was almost afraid to ask about this. But for some reason, I just knew I needed to. And so I went to my dad and my mom and I said, this is what I'm feeling and this is what I'm thinking. Remember they reacted in a very level headed way. They're like, okay, we'll talk about it. We'll think about it. We can talk about this tomorrow. And I went to my room to go to bed. My dad and my mom went to their room and then about five minutes later, my dad walked out of his room and he's crying. And he looked at me and he goes, you need to go to Utah. And I didn't know why. And I don't think he knew why, but we both just felt I needed to go. And so just a handful of weeks after I graduated, I flew by myself from Ecuador to Utah. I stayed at my grandparents house for six weeks. And this was my part two of breaking free. My part two of the break I had had six months prior. I once again, I was just out living my life. I was out until three and with my sisters meeting their friends going to the canyon playing with glow sticks and roller skating and just living what it's like to live the college life. I now recognize. And just finally being free. This also was the first time that I ever want to date with a boy, which was crazy. I went on two dates with two different boys. And it was kind of my way of like the final piece in overcoming a big measure of my internal is homophobia. Because it's one thing to accept yourself in theory and another to accept yourself in practice. And I know this is very much my story. There are people who come out of the closet and feel very strongly that they're not supposed to date. And I wholeheartedly respect and honor those people and their decisions. And I hope that everyone who's listening will also wholeheartedly respect an honor mine because I felt directed by God that it was my time to be able to break out of this unhealthy thought process. And that included going on dates with guys. And so it was it was so much fun. I think I kind of ignored the fact that it was going on a mission the whole summer. I pretended to exist. I remember I think about a week before I left on my mission. I kissed a guy for the first time. And part of it was kind of a take that to the church. I think personally, mentally, you can judge me for that if you'd like. But it was it was just this thing like I am in control of my faith and I am in control of my story. I'm serving a mission because God has told me to and I know that I will have the opportunity to change lives. But that doesn't mean that I have to follow these stereotypes and cultural norms that are not imposed by God but by people. And so I kissed the boy and to me, he's later I was set up bar. It was it was the funniest thing to me. But I also think it's super important to note that about just after that, I think it was the day after that I got in doubt on the temple. And that was a very powerful experience for me. I think the biggest takeaway I had from it was that I have so much to learn. So much to learn. And that was comforting because the biggest thing that was hurting me in all this time was this idea that I was trapped in a box. And this was all there was to know. But by going to the temple and learning and seeing so many new things and expansive things helping redefine my understanding of deity and my relationship with Christ.
It made me realize there are so much more to this than you've ever imagined. And that means there could just maybe be a world and a place for you in this church and in this gospel. I came out publicly on on social media in a post that was simultaneously my mission post leaving on the mission. It was three days before I was set apart and I posted a picture of Christ one that I adore by Amber Eldridge. And the second slide was me at the temple with my grandparents and my sister. And I gave my three reasons for serving a mission because I thought it was really important that people understood why. And then I came out as a bisexual member of the church. And I testified that you don't have to choose. And if there's any message I can get across with this podcast. Anything I want someone to take away from this, it's that there is power in the word and you don't have to be either or I don't have to accept myself as a queer son of God or be a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ in his church. I can be both and you can be both. It's uncharted territory. It is messy and it is hard. There are people judging on every side. But I promise you it's worth it and I promise you it's possible because all things are possible with Christ. And three days later I was older blanchored. My mission means everything to me. It was the most transformative experience. I know that's not the experience for everyone who serves a mission. I know a lot of especially queer individuals who serve have a lot of traumatic experiences and I weep with you and I love you and I will listen to you if you need someone to talk to. And at the same time I can say that my mission was just incredible. I was able to heal from so much religious trauma on my mission. I was able to correct the poor translation that was going on in my head. I was able to have a healthy relationship once again with the church of Jesus Christ as an organization. I got to know Christ as my healer, my transformer, my savior, my brother. I got to know my heavenly parents and see their hands not only in my life but in the lives of so many incredible individuals. And there were hard moments of course. There were dark periods. I remember sitting my first transfer sitting at a dinner table with this member family and this member saying that if his son that ever came out as gay he changes last name and abandoned him forever. And then my companion just busted up laughing and the whole table erupted and I sat there and shocked and I said there is no way you just said that to me because you have no idea the damage you are doing. But the most incredible thing was that instead of retreating into a dark and slimy place, instead of interpreting that in the most horrible way and feeling this internalized homophobia take hold, I looked at that man and with the help of God and the healing of Christ and the influence of the Spirit, I loved him and I recognized that he just doesn't understand. And this is coming from a place of ignorance not of hate. And that would be a theme in my mission. A new translation, the way that through the divine I was able to see and hear horrible things and recognize that people are human. And what they're saying isn't what they truly mean because they don't know what they're saying. I was very vocal about my perspectives on the queer community on my mission. I have a shirt that says love is the cure on front and on the back it says no homophobia, no transphobia, no abuse of power, no violence and no sexism. And big words. And I wore that every single group activity on a pdf. If it was on pdf, I was wearing it. If I was with my friends hanging out in the apartment and there was multiple missionaries, I was wearing it. I always wore that shirt because not only was I affirming my identity, but even more than that, I wanted any missionary who knew me to know you are loved, you are valued and you have a place with me. And since getting off my mission and since I've shared the video that I shared a couple weeks ago showing my story in English and in Spanish that people from the mission could hear, I've had so many missionaries, converts, and members come out to me through message. And it just blew me away as I thought about these incredible people as they shared their difficult and transformative stories. And I realized the impact I was able to make just by saying, I know you, I see you, and I love you. And I would call every person who is listening to mirror that same example, to tell those that you love, those that are hard to love, I know you, I see you, and I love you. One of the hardest experiences on my mission was almost a flashback to October, I mean, April of 22 with the Oaks Talk because in October of 23, he gave another talk that was very, very difficult for me to swallow. And I'd say it was one of the first times in my whole mission or one of the few times better said in my whole mission, where the translation broke again. And I actually wanted to quote from an email that I wrote home that week, the experience that I had. So I'm going to read this to you now. It says, "As soon as the talk ended, I escaped to the bathroom upstairs and I simply held myself and wept. I felt as though I crumpled inward as a snail retreats into its shell. I watched through blurry vision as my tears fell on my seated knees. They landed dark blue against my slacks. At one point, I remember looking into the mirror by my side and seeing what I believe, to be the face of the face of anguish personified. My withered face looked back at me. As I subconsciously, though unintentionally, mirrored my experience on that summer day in 2022, I cried out to God in my soul, asking, "Where is the divine love I've heard so often spoke of?" The kind that fills me head to toe. Why do I not feel a profound sense of peace, stretch fingertip to fingertip to carry me through this storm? Though I knew God would never leave me, I felt no intervention from above. I crumbled deeper into myself. I'll never forget that experience. I feel a little bad for my companion. It's by himself downstairs thinking, "What is going on with other blanchard?" But I just remember thinking, "God, I know you're there. I have no doubts and I've never doubted. I know you see me. I know you feel me, but what I just can't figure out is while I preach every day, all day of this love of you, the love of Christ, why can't I feel it now? Isn't it my turn?" And that was hard. That was really hard. I made a very fast phone call to my mission president as I'm crying and I said, "I need to talk to my parents." I didn't even ask. I just said, "I need to talk to my parents." And he said, "Is everything all right?" I said, "Yes, I'm okay, but I need to talk to them." And he said, "If you feel like you need to, you are more than welcome too." And so I hung up with him and I called them and I just sobbed and I talked to them. But it was the most healing conversation. And that's a prime example of the way that God's timing and God's answers are theirs, not ours, and they're always better. I wanted to be filled with peace. I wanted to be able to say that in that moment of intense darkness and pain, I was filled with the joy and love and light of Christ, but I wasn't. But as I talked to my parents, I felt the most powerful feeling of solidarity, the most powerful feeling of love. And as we talked, they just gave me these thoughts and this inspired counsel and they helped me recognize that as I served and as I finished up with my mission, I had about 11 months left. I needed to reorient my everything on Christ. And I began to feel God in the most undeniable of ways. Not how I expected, not how I'd hoped, but in the most incredible ways. And I'd say that was a turning point in my mission where I just made everything about Christ. I tried so hard. I was imperfect as every missionary is. I was hard on myself as every missionary is. I questioned often if I measured up as every missionary does, but what I did do unabashedly was I testified of Christ that he lived for us, that he died for us, and that he lived again for us. At the end of the email, I explained to people why I stay, why I'm still here as a missionary, but as a member of this church. And so I'm going to quote that one more time. It says, I stay because I feel something different here. I stay because I have seen in
felt things that cannot be described. I stayed because although I may not agree with everything I hear and see, the great majority of it makes me feel expansive, alive, and connected to something greater than me, I stayed because I know it is here that I can cultivate the attributes of divinity. And in this experience, as I'm crying, as I'm talking with my parents, as I'm mulling it all over, a line from my very own email months earlier came to my mind, which I thought it was hilarious. I thought I know God has a sense of humor because they quoted me to me. But months earlier, I'd written home, quote, disagreeing with something said in church, being uncomfortable during a talk or class, wrestling with faith questions and doubts. These are prime breeding grounds for the attributes of Christ. And suddenly this painful experience had become an opportunity for growth, an opportunity to be more like Christ to learn those attributes of divinity and it all became worth it. And while this experience was a turning point in the way I preached and testified, I'd say I also changed the way that I viewed difficulty and the way I helped others through their own personal trials. Because the difficulties we face in this life, the pain that we experience all of it is to shape and mold us to become more like God, more like our Heavenly Parents, more like our Savior, Jesus Christ. And that makes everything that we experience worth it. The final thing I'll say about my mission is that I was able to come out to a handful of people. I came out to my mission president and his wife and they were just incredible. I usually call them mission presidents personally 'cause I like they both are my presidents. They just express so much love and you can get more detail in the video that I posted. So I keep mentioning it, maybe we can put it in the description. Okay, awesome. But I also was able to come out to three companions on my mission and all of them reacted with so much love. It was just incredible. They were such safe people. And this was on the latter half of my mission. But there was one specific one that I want to highlight and I won't say his name just 'cause I don't want to embarrass him. But he's an incredible person and he knows who he is. But after he had shared some really, really deeply personal things with me, I felt comfortable to open about, I went up about my experiences as a queer member of the church and this was days before Christmas. Remember waking up on Christmas morning and I had to do so, oh, I wanted to nap 'cause I was just deadbeat tired. We worked so hard together that every piti I knocked because I was not sleeping enough and we were working our butts off, but it was so much fun. And so I went to take a nap on Christmas morning and he started going ham on something. He was working hard on something and I kind of knew what it was, but I didn't know what it was. I had an idea, but I just pretended like I didn't know he was doing anything. And when I woke up, I left my room and he had a little package, a little present wrapped for me. And when I opened it, it was a day-quil box with the rest of his day-quil because I had run out and we kept on getting sick 'cause we weren't taking well enough care of ourselves. It was the rest of his day-quil pills so that I could feel better and heal up. It was a few drinker mixes from the United States, but more importantly, it was a rainbow bracelet that he had personally made it for me. Sorry. And on this clunky, all the day-quil box he had written in Sharpie, he loves you for you. I don't know if he'll ever understand how much that meant to me. I put that bracelet on and I don't remember if I wept or not, but I'm weeping now. And it was one of the most kind things anyone has ever done for me in my entire life. And I will forever be grateful for this man. I could go on and on about my mission, but for times sake, I'm gonna leave it at that with that part of my life. But I came home, like I said about seven weeks ago, I'm about to hit two months. Actually, I think I hit two months and three days. And like Papa Osler said, I don't have everything figured out. We're still in the middle of my story right now. But what I've learned is that my personal relationship with God and personal revelation is everything. Because I am uplifted and inspired and guided by the words of our leaders, I sustain them and I love them. But I also recognize that in many ways the church is scaffolding for us as we build the building of our testimony. It supports us, it sustains us, it guides us. But my relationship with Christ is my faith. It is my cornerstone and it is everything to me. And it is through him that I can feel the divine love of my heavenly parents. And so I have to keep working actively towards cultivating that relationship. I've also been able to recognize the healing impact of my mission on me and my relationship with the church. I'm still going to church. I go every week, I was sustained and set apart today as the new ward mission leader, which I'm so excited about. There's just so many amazing things that I'm throwing myself into so that I can serve and I can love. But I'm doing it in my way for me and my relationship with God. And for other people who need me, the way that I needed them, months, years, days ago, every night I try to ask myself the question, "Who's life did I light today?" And I am constantly seeking for people who need light in their lives, because I know so intimately, so personally what it's like to be without that light. And I've seen so many beautiful things come from it. I know that God lives. I know that Christ lives. I know that this divine family that we know and that we love adore us with everything in us. I just got back from the Gather Conference yesterday and there was a line that I loved where this wonderful woman said, "God is obsessed with you." And I just would love to echo her message. God is obsessed with you. You, you who are listening, you who are hurt, you who feel like God has abandoned you, you who have left the church and you who is just trying to stay. God adores you. This is my story. It's not your story. I share it in hopes that it can help you. I share it because I feel like it is the least I can do for all the people who have shared before me. But my path will definitely look different than yours. And so I ask that you respect me and that you trust that every decision I make I'm making it with God. And so however my life turns out and I have no idea how it will just know that I'm making it and I'm writing it with God as my son for it. And that's my story. - There's like tissues in the middle of our table listeners. Thanks for your podcast and bringing me to tears. I sometimes worry that if I say anything, it'll just track what Z is said here in the spirit that I felt. But I will just share some thoughts. And as you know, the regular listeners, I kind of just write down things that really popped out to me. One thing, this is an overalling thought is your ability to talk and bring vocabulary to your lived experiences, one of your spiritual gifts. You know that about you and people have told you about your gift of communication. I watched you as you shared your, you've glad to see your outline a little bit but you just spoke directly and that bike will look at me directly in the I-95% of that time. And you have a gift of communication and a gift of putting words to your story that is part of your spiritual gift, gifts and really helps us understand your journey. This long journey I felt broken and not making it work and just the pain of your road of not having a light at the end of the tunnel but logic keeping you alive. You're very self-aware of your situation. I think this is a beautiful family love story. Even though your parents like all parents aren't perfect, they were with you in that bathroom in San Diego and so many parts of this story. I probably won't ever forget you being in that car during elder oak's talk and your sister holding your hand 'cause they were hearing it through your heart and your experience and your mom just having tears and not knowing what to say. And just the validating of your pain and these experiences, your sisters coming into your room and Ecuador and saying we have to talk. And those are just beautiful. These are the best family experiences. There's the beautiful experiences that make it on the Christmas card that these are the best family experiences.
experiences at eel families and your sister's ability to be with you. But I wrote down queer media. No one's ever talked about queer media like that. And I think if I we don't have any queer kids listeners, so I think my worry as a father would have been if I exposed my kids to queer media, my straight kids are going to become queer. I don't believe that anymore. I recognize the queer media helped you feel better about yourself as you stop stories about people like you that are portrayed as healthy, contributing adults with professions. And I'm so that was something no one's really ever brought up. And I probably caution people against queer me about younger self, but I'd just say because I recognize you had no light at the end of the tunnel. And these stories were giving you hope. Yeah. And hope is one of the greatest gifts we can give each other. And if that comes to queer media, and maybe it answered to people's prayers in your life. And if your parents aware of that, thinking this is a good idea, a bad idea, just letting that play itself out, given that where you were. I can't even read some of my own notes. Just these situations you had, you said expectations of others on my shoulders, and how hard that difficult was, and how this just allowed you to breathe. I know Jill, for Easton, we've traded messages. And this experience and Ecuador with your father, then being waken up. And I can remember the father goes to bed really early as my kids know. But then you asking for therapy and recognize this is not, we need God in our lives, but we also need therapists in our lives. Absolutely. And then Jill, I'm sure she doesn't do this with every, but every client or every, however, whatever vocabular she has to describe you for and client, but her intuition to connect you with heavenly mother. And then if I wrote this down right, and please, if there's some, and why you started to recognize heavenly mother, see, this is where you're gifted a gift of speech, and I can't even read my own writing, if there is a more expansive understanding of God, maybe there is for me, just tell our, I want you to talk again about that because I think what you're saying is, as you understood better about heavenly mother, an expansive understanding of a deity, it gave you hope that there's a better expansive understanding of you. I love the scripture says that we're created in God's image. I think that oftentimes our journeys to learn and understand the character of God often is a study into learning and understanding our own character and our potential of who we can become. That's the whole reason we have Christ because sometimes it's hard to relate to these divine beings in heaven. And so they decided that we needed Christ incarnate. We needed a walking, breathing example of how to be like them. And so as we come to know God, we really do come to know ourselves. And as we strive to be like God, striving to be like Christ, we become more perfect beings. One of the most beautiful doctrines in, in our faith is our ability to become like God quite literally, to become as God is. And it's the most hopeful doctrine for me. It's my favorite thing to talk about because then it gives purpose and meaning to all of the suffering that all of us endure. That's why this, this concept of cultivating the attributes of divinity is often on my mind because it's the only way to make sense of my suffering and the suffering of so, so many people out there. It can be so hard to hear when you're in the midst of your trial that this is making you a better person, it'll help you grow. And it's the worst when it's used to kind of shut down people's expression of pain. But when you're in a healthy mindset and you're able to get the help that you need, it really is true that all these experiences are shaping who we become. And if we choose to react to them and learn from them in the way God would have us do so in the way that Scripture teaches us to do so through repentance, through change, then we really can become like God. And there is nothing more hopeful than that for me. Just really remarkably insightful. And everything you're doing is pointing us to the Heavenly Parents in Christ. And that's so important. And then this therapist, you usually think of paraphrase helping us through our mental health issues, but here's this therapist connecting you with God in Christ. And in that process, helping with your mental health, not every therapist can do that or should do that. But I just, you know, what an answer to prayer and Jill freestone and all the wonderful therapists that are helping queer Latter-day Saints thank you for your work. You talk about this brain loop. And I think that's a pretty self-aware thing to recognize you had been riding yourself a story and kind of in this brain loop that was unhealthy at times and doing everything again to rewire your brain. But I love that you're self-aware that that is what's happening and wanting to step out of the brain loop at times and be able to move past that. But then it comes back to the thing I wrote down here is just that experience in the car with other Oaks's talk. And listeners, when someone tells me a church talk, my old self would have said, "We're overthinking it, Zee, it's a leader of the church." He speaks for God and I would dismiss the pain, especially if I didn't feel it or I didn't read anything in the talk, those particularly triggering their trigger to brain loop in me. And the sinners, I just invite us to do it. Your parents didn't, your family did is they read it and sought through your eyes and they did not dismiss your pain. And you can do that and be a committed laterity saying, "And your mom saying, "I don't know what to say. Sometimes it's better than trying to say something and say, "Well, you're overthinking it or you didn't mean that or he's really a good man." I just love what your mom said. And sometimes it's really good to say, "But don't know what to say." Then this personal feeling to come to this Utah for six weeks and your dad saying, "Let's think about it and then saying, "Let's don't think about it." And the sacrifice that was for your parents not to be with you six weeks yourself or that, you just feel like this is something you're going to do. And I think it really helped you. I wrote down here as you explain all the things that happened during those six weeks. I think it really helped you to own your own story about your mission and you had that six weeks to really, I don't know what the right vocabulary is, but I just think it allowed you to serve your mission. I think so too. And even dating men, that's not sort of something we traditionally invite people to do, but we let straight men date women right up until their mission. So yeah. You know, I think I'm comfortable with you sharing that story and admire your courage to be honest in the parts of that story. None of that disqualified you in my opinion from serving a mission. And that's obviously true because of the mission you had. Then this period of grace on your mission where you talked about the difference between ignorance and hate in those homophobic comments you've heard at time, I wrote down your mission shirt and how brave that was. And just that you were indicating to people your safe person. I love that. I wrote down here something I've never written on a podcast. As I'm going through the podcast, just I've never asked our listeners to do this, but please share this podcast. You though that are listening us need to share this story. All of the podcasts are powerful. I want to put one above the other, but this may be a podcast. If you're going to share one, please share it. Share it with five people. Share it with 10 people. Share it with your family. Share with your local leaders. This story scales is the other word I wrote down. There will be people that aren't queer. That this is the podcast that will help them know that God loves. This is not just a queer, later date, saint story. This is a story about our Heavenly Parents love for all of their children. And for you, Z, it's not just theoretical. You're not just giving a gospel doctrine lesson stating that because you're encouraged to share your story. It's real. And it's believable. And it scales to other people that have no light at the end of the tunnel. I feel like God could God ever love somebody like me. And that's one of your gifts on your mission. That's one of your gifts to your friends. It's one of your gifts in this podcast. It's part of who you are. I love when you heard another elder Oaks talk. Both those talks are really painful for me because I process them through the lens of queer, later date, saints. Is that you knew you could call your parents and you knew they'd be safe. And you know if your parents
listening just great job of just creating a culture that Z came out to you eventually and that he knew you could always handle the realities of Z's life. And listeners, you've heard me talk about this, but I wish, you know, I'm in my 60s, so I could start the home, but I wish I had sort of intentionally created a family culture by proactively talking to my kids about this is how respond if you're queer. This is how respond if you have problem with the law. This is how respond and being queer isn't a sin having a problem with the law sort of as breaking up rule. So some of this is breaking rule basis and some of this is just identity. There's no sin in being queer. I wouldn't even say a deadifying queer makes just sort of like you're choosing something. This is who you are. And so that's just something for your younger parents to consider because there was a period of time you were closeted and part of your stories, those hundreds, I don't know if you use the word hundreds, but just imagining that conversation, you're going to have with your parents and finally it happened. Yeah. And but you know, part of this story is once your parents and your sisters knew what was going on, they could walk with you because they knew those part of your story. And that's one of the greatest blessings as a parent that I've had is when our kids open up and we're able to walk with them in the realities of their life. And part of that is wearing a shirt like you were sort of figuratively as parents is that we're always saying kind things about people. And you were doing that on your whenever you could wear that shirt. And it's just it's a principle there that I think Christ modeled so beautifully in his ministry. We don't have a record of him wearing a shirt obviously, but the way he interacted with everybody and saw them as equal and lifted them and helped them is exactly what we can do as parents. The only one of the most powerful examples of that I've shared this is when I just started to I put a pride flag in my social media as a wise, they bishop was about eight or 10 years ago and that's become even more politically charged than it was back then. But no more queer kids came out to me, but a lot of the straight kids just said, okay, I can talk to this guy. And that allowed me to walk with them in the realities that are live, the very things that they couldn't feel like it opened up because they saw that you know, he can handle what I need to talk to him about. So that's just a principle for you all to consider. Then the thing that brought me to tears, after you shared about your parents is this rainbow place that your missionary companion made for your Christmas. After you had the courage to come out, and that's called some people have talked about a vulnerability hangovers when you're really brave and you come out is then you wonder what the other person thinks. It sounds like a good enough relationship. He's vulnerable to the routies of his life. This is one of the finest moments I've ever heard on the podcast from a missionary is making you a rainbow place. Just talk again about what that meant to you. I'm going to cry again. It means I love you and I see you and I know you. No? I'm in this atmosphere where for years I had wanted to serve a mission. I'd wanted to participate in God's work. And then as I came to terms with my sexuality, I felt as though I wasn't wanted or wasn't needed. And then having this transfer with this elder, which was just so powerful and miraculous every single day I swear. And then receiving me with so much love as I shared my identity, it was the most affirming experience I'd ever had in every sense of the word. Because yes, I'm a queer person, but I'm also a disciple of Christ and the church of Jesus Christ. Both are so important to me. And so to have this companion come to me and say, I recognize and I value your discipleship. You belong. You are a disciple of Christ and he loves you. And simultaneously say, I am not ashamed of you. As a matter of fact, I want you to be proud of who you are. I want you to wear this bracelet so that you know, you personally know that this is a part of you and this is important to you. And it's important to me. And I think that's why it was such an impactful experience because it validated all parts of me, especially because as a queer member of the church, we have people on both sides who will say all sorts of things and judge all sorts of things. Maybe I'm not I'm not gay enough for the gay community. I'm not more than enough for the Mormon community, but this man came to me and said, you are exactly what you need to be for me and for Christ. Just terrific. And that leads us all to think, what can we do in our circle of influence? To help support queer Saturdays, saying, and your missionary companion at home run. And then, you know, it's just so different than my day. What we were taught about queer people, gay people coming out on our mission. And I never could have done what your companion would have done. And you probably never would have had the courage to come out to me because of the things I was saying, and you would just never have been able to do what happened there. And to me, that's just part of the beautiful, authentic connection that's needed. And so it also gives me hope in the future that, you know, I assume that we've had a couple of guests on the companions where they're straight. They were out. And your straight companions kind of responded this way. And they just sort of recognize in a pragmatic way that we're here to help people find their Christ. Very stretcher to maybe our combined differences help us reach more people. And to me, Zion is using all of our differences in a way that's to lift the hands of those that hang down and your combined ability to do that. And to me, a lot of companions can get to the point. This just allows it's a good thing. It allows us to connect with more people. Any more thoughts on your mission and companions? I have sent all of them the video that I made. We're going to put down the show notes. That was that was super fun. They watched it with their companions. That was super cool. But there were people, a lot of people that I didn't come out to well as on the mission that I would have been comfortable doing. So I just didn't feel inspired too. I mentioned this early on the podcast, but I think God is very present and aware of when we should come out and how we should come out. And so for me, coming out to those three people was not just a meat decision, but a meat with God decision. And it's been really cool the way that that people responded. For example, I had another companion that when I told him, he just asked me question after question because he wanted to understand my experiences. We actually did not go to bed on time that night because we talked way too late. And I remember afterwards, he looked at me and he just goes, in my book, you're a hero. And if me three years ago could have known that that's how it would have been received, I would have been running to go serve God on a mission. Because if someone can hear that I'm not straight and think I'm a hero for that, for serving a mission despite the difficulty, it's just so powerful. He's still on his mission. He gets home in about a month and I am ecstatic to give him the biggest bear hug on earth. He doesn't know how much that meant to me. Steve, the young I've heard him talk about queer letter, these saints as warriors. I like that. Just incredible wars. And I love what this companion said to you. And oh, this is where I just wish our culture could improve just like your companions and many in your circle that these messages were communicated broadly by church leaders. This is one of my hopes for the future. The church doesn't change doctrine or policy, but it just we have this constant drum beating support of voice of support for queer letter, these saints coming from every corner of our church. I think most members want to do the right thing, but we just haven't talked about how to do the right thing in this space. So it just, you know, that's my one of my hopes for the future. But it's brave people like you coming forward. It's hard to end a podcast like this listeners and just so moved. I'm so honored for brave people like Z. It's just a sacred place for Z to be able to share his story. He is 21. With the theological mind of, you know, way past my years in many ways. And I sometimes wonder if part of who you are is who you came from the pre mortal life as you know, it's a beautiful part of our theology. And sometimes I meet people that I feel their spiritual spirit is much more mature than mine. And biologically, I've got them by 40 years. Feel that with you and many. And I also recognize this wrestling you've had to go through because you, you know, this expectations of the culture, these pressures on your shoulder haven't matched the realities of your life. So you've had to work really hard. And that's so much of your story is your relationship with your Heavenly parents in Christ, those are your anchor rocks. And that scales to everybody's story.
Because the church, I believe the church is like scaffolding. Its job is not to point us to the scaffolding, but to point a store heaven, the parents in Christ. And that's where all the healing and hope comes from. And you have learned that and you were teaching that others and you continued to teach it in your story. And you are not 40 or 50 or 60 sitting across doing this podcast after another 30 years of an eternalized homophobia. And that's where the biggest change I've noticed in the eight or 10 years, I've been in this space as younger queer, letter, day saints owning this part about them in a positive, healthy way. And the light at the end of the tunnel is there and the hope is there in your ability to bring that to others. And I love your word and I can be a letter. He's saying and a queer member of the church. I asked you when you came in because gather just ended this two day conference in early September from lift and love. I think you can probably remember the answer. Tell our listeners why you like gather. Oh my gosh, it is most incredible experience for those who don't know what gather is. It is a yearly conference in which queer members of the church, Jesus Christ, letter, day saints come together for a couple days of musical numbers and speeches and events that are very faith affirming and identity affirming. And when you ask me that question at the beginning, my answer, which I stick with now is that for the first time, I was able to be in a sphere centered on Christ and I wasn't the outlier. I was at church today and I was loving it. I just love hearing the messages, but I remember looking around and thinking, we're back. I'm once again, the person that has to speak out. If someone says something in kind, I have to make sure that queer people are being represented in a good way. I'm like the one that they look at. Like, oh, that's the gay kid in our congregation. I'm this example and I have accepted that and I cherish the opportunity to help people love more fully. But I gather I was able to look around and say, I am just like everyone else here. And even if I'm not, they love me unabashedly. What a powerful feeling, what a powerful experience and how powerful would it be if we could turn our congregations into that very same room. There's a song I listened to sometimes listeners I had, I dreamed a dream from Les Mis and some of that comes to mind as you talk like that and there's some pain in that song too. There's a lot of hope in that song. And I share that same dream. No one should feel like an outlier. You used that very word when you came in and you used it again. You have a good memory two hours later. No one should feel like an outlier who they are. And everybody should feel like they belong. But it's more than just a platitude listeners. We have to do the work necessary to sort a queer letter. These saints feel like they belong. And there's lots of great examples in your life that have done that. And maybe the one that I will never forget is your missionary making a rainbow bracelet. I just want to go into his mind to think is this heart I want to do something special for my companion Chris morning. He's had the courage to come out to me. And that's what he comes up with. This is the beautiful ministering home run that is the importance of just one on one fellowship and one on one ministering because so much of the good that's done is done at that level. Any else you'd like to share? To anyone who's listening, I love you. And I mean it. And if you feel entirely alone, I hope you know that you're not. I don't care if we live in different states or countries. We speak different languages. If you need help reach out to someone. And if there is no one reach out to me, I'll connect you with someone or I'll just cry with you, but never forget how deeply and personally you are loved. I think that's it. Thank you Z. Blanchard. We will link in the show notes to your video that you mentioned also will tag your Instagram accounts so people can DM me on Instagram if they want to find you. And thank you for joining us listeners in this really sacred space. Signing off from another episode of Listen, Learn and Love. [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music]
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Podcast Summary
Key Points:
The podcast episode features Z, a 21-year-old bisexual man, sharing his personal journey of self-discovery regarding his sexuality and faith.
Z describes a childhood marked by feminine interests, leading to bullying and internalized shame, and his early teenage realization of attraction to men, which he initially suppressed.
His first heterosexual relationship during the pandemic, followed by its end, triggered a deep depression and a period of intense isolation, during which he grappled with his identity.
Z emphasizes the role of logic in maintaining his faith during his depression, his gradual process of coming out to supportive friends and family, and his ongoing journey toward self-acceptance.
The conversation highlights themes of vulnerability, hope, and the healing power of sharing one's story, framed by quotes about being fully known and loved and the inherent risks of human connection.
Summary:
In this podcast episode, host Richard Osler interviews Z, a 21-year-old university student and recently returned missionary. Z shares his vulnerable story of growing up in an international family, his childhood affinity for feminine activities which led to bullying, and his early teenage recognition of attraction to men—a feeling he suppressed for years. He discusses entering a relationship with a girl at 16, driven partly by a hope to "prove" he wasn't gay, and how its end coincided with the pandemic's onset, plunging him into a severe depressive episode during a period of extreme isolation in Utah.
This crisis forced him to confront his sexuality and faith; while his spiritual feelings dimmed, logical belief sustained him. After moving back to California, he experienced an emotional breakdown, leading to a pivotal moment of receiving comfort from his mother. Z then began a gradual process of coming out to friends, often finding mutual disclosure, which was met with love and support.
He frames his narrative with quotes about the need to be fully known and loved and the inevitability of hurt in human relationships, presenting his story as one of ongoing hope, self-acceptance, and the transformative power of vulnerability.
FAQs
The nickname 'pop-ass' started when the host joined Twitter to connect with high school kids, using it to indicate he wasn't a student himself, and it has since evolved into a term associated with LGBTQ allyship.
Z Blanchard is a 21-year-old guest born in Utah, raised internationally in places like Costa Rica, San Diego, and Ecuador, and recently returned from a mission in Argentina. He is a bisexual global politics major at UVU.
The podcast aims to share personal stories, particularly from LGBTQ individuals, to offer hope and support to listeners who may be navigating similar experiences, whether at the beginning, middle, or end of their journeys.
Z first acknowledged his attraction to men at age 12 while watching a TV show, when he internally admitted finding a male character attractive, though he initially tried to dismiss and suppress these feelings.
During the pandemic, Z experienced intense isolation and depression after a breakup, which led him to question his faith and sexuality, marking a period of significant personal struggle and growth.
Z's parents played a crucial role by building his confidence and reinforcing that he is loved unconditionally, which helped him embrace his identity despite societal pressures and internalized shame.
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