Tonya’s Story

Tonya’s Personal Story

Tonya: These are just bags of menus and stickers or business cards, just places we’ve been or lived. So, like Spam; we used to live 40 minutes from these Spam museums.

Andy: And factory?

Tonya: In Minnesota where they offer “spam-pels.” My name is Tonya Baker Miller. I took my undergraduate degree in family science. It was kind of a happy surprise six months later, I don’t just have the flu! OK, well here we go.

Dylan: I’m Dylan Miller. I’m Andy’s dad and Tonya’s husband. Andy is amazing. He’s loyal; he’s brilliant; he’s kind; he has always been everything that a parent could ask for.

Tonya: I love being Andy’s mom. He’s fabulous. He’s triple-majoring in international business, aviation management, and Spanish, and he works full-time. He’s in our elders quorum presidency, and he’s the best big brother. He’s amazing.

Andy: My name is Andy Miller. I’m 21 years old, I’ve been a member of the Church my whole life, and I’m gay. I hate saying that that doesn’t define me, because it does. It’s a big part of what defines me; but just like with any other person—gay, straight, or otherwise—there’s so much more to me than that. Coming out is a process, and that’s sort of really how I took it. There was no fanfare, no press conference.

Tonya: Andy coming out was completely pragmatic. Basically, he just wanted me to stop nagging him to date. And so we’re driving one night, and he said something that made me say, “Oh, are you gay?” And he said, “Yeah.”

Andy: And it took her a second to register what I had said.

Tonya: I said, “OK.”

Andy: I had imagined this theatrical, beautiful moment where she wraps her arms around me and says she loves me.

Tonya: I said, “Well, what about, you know, those girls that you seemed close to?”

Andy: Her reaction was not what I expected.

Tonya: Super mom over here, right?

Andy: Coming out is always awkward; there’s no good way to do it.

Tonya: My son is baring his soul about this thing that frightens him but that is so a part of him.

Andy: And then after that, of course, there’s the question of, “How does this affect my life?” And neither of us had a good answer at that point. The fact that she didn’t know, I think, was a little scary for me.

Tonya: We planned our kids’ lives long before they’re even born, right? They’re going to do this and this and this, and then you kind of get a curveball with any child. And you go, “Oh, wait. I’m not in charge, am I?” All you can give them is love. I don’t have any answers. I want them. I ask all the time, “So, Heavenly Father, here’s what I’d like to know today.” Between Andy and Dylan and I, we learned to just laugh, and that helps; that absolutely helps.

Andy: It requires a lot of faith to sort of put your life in God’s hands and say, “I trust you; guide this as it needs to go.”

Tonya: I don’t think anyone who’s straight could imagine the pain of somebody like Andy, who has a testimony, who can’t connect the dots, and so how do I reconcile that? I went to the temple again and again and again and again and again and again, and mostly I left with nothing. No “aha,” moments, but my testimony is not going anywhere. And I think that was the main gift for me from that time.

My experience is mine, and everyone else’s will be theirs. And for me, it was very much coming to understand the Atonement in a way I had never conceived before. My relationship has become much more personal with Christ through this experience.

Dylan: The scripture in Proverbs about “trust in the Lord with all thine heart” became our mantra, and realizing that we didn’t have all the answers and maybe wouldn’t ever on this earth have the answers, but to go with what we know, which is that we do, we love our son, and we knew Heavenly Father loved Andy.

Tonya: I went to the temple constantly, and the question I took every time was: “Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?” And I eventually learned, “It’s not the question. The question that you can ask, that I can help you with,” from the Holy Ghost telling me this, is “How can I be the mom that this child of God needs?” Every single person, every child, there’s a plan for, and I don’t know the answers, but He does. And when I reached that point that I could handle, “OK, spiritual ambiguity is where I’m going to stay.” And when I’m in that space, I can say, “How? How can I help?”

Andy: We’re all deserving of each other’s love and support, and that to me is what Christ’s Church would look like, and not just in the context of LGBTQ issues but in others as well. Taking things a day at a time, not focusing on tomorrow, because we can’t know what things will be like tomorrow—how we’ll be feeling, what information we’ll have that we don’t have now. Whatever it may be just brings a lot of peace and allows you to make the most out of the present. Focusing on what I can control, what I know the most about, makes things better in the long run.

Tonya: So right now Andy’s 21. He’s active in the Church. Today, he doesn’t plan to change that. He’s also wise enough to say, “I’m doing this day by day,” and says, “You know, I don’t know where I’m going to be in 20 years.” Just like the rest of us don’t. My job as a parent is to love my children. No strings attached. Just is. Nothing can change that.

Dylan: We are in a constant prayer about this, and that will continue. I can say that I will always love him and want the best things for him.

Tonya: Dylan and I love him; nothing about that will ever, ever change. He will work out the details of his mission here on earth with Heavenly Father, and we’re here to just support and love him day by day. We just do it one day at a time.

Tonya’s Story: Continued

According to Tonya Miller, coming out is a process, not an event. At least, that’s what she witnessed with her son Andy. And despite the spiritual ambiguity that still surrounds being a gay Latter-day Saint, the important thing is that Andy feels safe being himself—something he had never experienced before.

My son Andy identifies as a gay Latter-day Saint. It would be convenient if I could write about my experience of being Andy’s mom as though it were a story told with the wisdom of hindsight and the benefit of resolution. However, it’s difficult to write an account of events, thoughts, and feelings that are so deeply connected to every aspect of my life. As such, what follow are really just snapshots taken from an eternal story that is still unfolding.

There were many moments during Andy’s life, even from the time he was an infant, when I felt strong impressions that he was gay.

Knowledge like that is puzzling, so I did what many people do with impressions that are more confusing than revelatory at the time they are received, which was to try to ignore them.

Coming out is a process, not an event.

Andy came out to me the summer between his high school graduation and moving to attend BYU. He told me he was gay one night when just he and I were driving somewhere. His decision to do so was largely pragmatic; he hoped I would stop nagging him to date more. I don’t remember many of the details of that specific conversation. Looking back, I know I said some things that were clumsy and probably insensitive. But by the time we were done talking and driving that night, Andy knew without a doubt that I love him and that my love comes with no strings attached. Being his mom always has and always will bring me joy.

As Andy and I had been driving around and talking that night, I had sworn to myself I would never let Andy see me cry about him being gay. So of course, the minute we got home, I climbed into bed and started sobbing. Everyone else at home was asleep when we got there. Dylan, my husband, woke up and asked if I was all right.

Me: “Did you know Andy is gay?”

Dylan: “No.”

Me: “Well, he is. He just told me.”

Dylan: “OK. Do I need to do anything about it tonight?”

Me: “Maybe just go tell him that I told you?”

So Dylan got up, went downstairs, knocked on Andy’s door, and asked to come in. He gave him a hug and said, “Mom told me. I love you.” Then he came back upstairs and was asleep three minutes later. Andy describes that as one of the most poignant experiences of his life.

I mention this second story because it supports my deeply held belief that Andy is our son by divine design. Dylan is a scientist, a physician, trained to diagnose quickly and with precision. He perceives the most relevant aspects of most situations almost immediately. I, on the other hand, am a social worker, a therapist. I approach problems as multifaceted and multifactorial. I want to explore each aspect of an issue, despite its possible relevance to a positive outcome, for the sake of the process itself. All stories feel sacred to me. The fact that Dylan and I managed to convey the same message of complete love to Andy in the same night in our distinct ways has always been a testament to me that the Lord has guided us from day one in this journey together.

Regardless of the fact that my love for Andy didn’t change after he told me, I still felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me spiritually.

I had a lot of questions and a lot of fears. My way of finding the peace and answers I sought was to go to the temple—a lot. The question I took to the temple was the same every time.

I wanted Heavenly Father to teach me how to help Andy succeed in his earthly mission.

My experiences in the temple during that time galvanized my faith in the Atonement of Jesus Christ. They also solidified my knowledge that Heavenly Father knows each of His children intimately and loves every one of us more deeply than we can comprehend. Many times I left the temple feeling disappointed because I didn’t have any “aha!” moments. But one of the things I learned during that time was that answers to spiritual questions often come only after a lot of spiritual work. Showing up at the temple each week was only part of the effort required to develop the relationship I needed with the Savior to guide me.

In the meantime, I often felt isolated and sad. I worried that my pride-based grief over not being able to produce the stereotypically perfect Latter-day Saint family interfered with my ability to receive guidance. Satan had a heyday with me. Every question I had about “The Plan” ate away at my confidence. I felt like I was on an emotional and spiritual teeter-totter. I was constantly vacillating between highs and lows. I know now that those experiences were vital to being able to find and share the peace that I eventually gained.

One of the greatest gifts I received during that season of my life was the ability to live with, for lack of a better term, spiritual ambiguity.

I don’t have all the answers to spiritual questions that surround same-sex attraction. I want answers, but I can’t have them now.

Reaching that point, where my faith was not troubled by ambiguity, was essential to finding the peace I needed.

Andy shared his sexual orientation with his priesthood leaders before submitting mission papers. He served five months of his mission to Uruguay before being honorably released. During his mission he experienced deep depression and severe anxiety. As part of the process of healing from mental illness, Andy decided he would like to be able to live more authentically and identify openly as a gay Latter-day Saint.

Dylan and I asked that Andy wait to tell others until we could share his experiences with family members, which he graciously agreed to. The prospect of telling his siblings filled us with concern. Andy is the oldest of our four children; his younger sister was 16, and his younger brothers were 11 and 7 at the time. The 11-year-old is on the autistic spectrum. After a lot of thought and prayer, we decided to bring it up at family home evening. It went something like this, with the dialogue being geared toward Andy’s younger brothers:

Dylan: “Have you guys ever heard the words homosexual or gay or lesbian?”

Both brothers: “Yes!”

Me: “Do you know what that means?”

11-year-old: “I think it means they are ‘goth’—like they wear black and have lots of body parts pierced.”

Me: “OK, well, I’m sure there are homosexuals who are also ‘goth.’”

Dylan: “Homosexual means that someone is attracted to someone of the same sex. So a gay man would be attracted to men, and a lesbian would be attracted to women.”

Me: “Do you guys know anyone who is gay?”

Both boys: “No way.”

Me: “Actually, you do! I’m going to give you some hints, and you tell me when you have figured it out. This person’s favorite color is blue. His favorite food is ravioli. He speaks Spanish. He loves airplanes.”

11-year-old: “Andy?!” (Followed by peals of laughter.)

7-year-old: “Aw, c’mon, you mean we’ve got a gay brother?!” (Melts into giggles.)

Dylan: “We just wanted you guys to know that. You will probably have questions, and we can talk about it anytime. It’s not a secret or anything. It’s not bad. Do you have any questions right now?”

11-year-old: “I do. Can we go back downstairs and play Nintendo?”

And that was it.

After telling our other children, we sent an email to our parents and siblings entitled “Out and About,” explaining a few things about Andy’s experiences as a gay Latter-day Saint but mostly expressing our love for him and the joy that he brings to our lives. There was no social media announcement, no blog. It just wasn’t a secret anymore.

Gradually we have all told people here and there. At this point none of us is exactly sure who does and doesn’t know.

The important thing is that Andy feels safe just being himself, something he had never experienced before.

It is especially poignant for me now to watch him navigate life on his own terms, feeling confident in who he is and where he would like to go and who he will become.

I remember one day, not long after Andy came out to me, when I was wondering to myself, “If I could just know what it’s like to be him, maybe I would understand better. Maybe I could worry less for him.” The Spirit spoke clearly to me in that moment, teaching me that I was asking a pointless question. The question I should ask was “How can I be the mother he needs?”

I believe that is essentially the question each member of the Church can ask with regard to this issue: “How can I be the brother or sister in the gospel that this person needs?” The answers will be as individual as each child of God. But I can say, without a doubt, the spiritual journey this question can take us on is beautiful, affirming, hopeful, and reflective of our personal commitments as disciples of Christ.

Andy’s Story: Tonya’s Son

Growing up, Andy Miller simply understood being gay as very, very bad. The subject was never talked about in an open, healthy way. As he began to recognize his feelings for men, he felt caught in an ever-deepening void between how he acted on the outside and how he felt on the inside. It wasn’t until he reconciled those feelings and began to live authentically that he experienced peace.

They say that the first person you ever “come out” to is yourself. Growing up, I knew I was a little different from most of my peers. Being gay wasn’t ever something that was talked about—I mean really talked about, in healthy, open ways. In general it was only ever mentioned in passing, always with the most scathing of connotations and accompanied with curt definitions only when necessary. As a result, I knew very little about what being gay really was or really looked like, but I understood it to be very, very bad. The lack of education left me with nowhere to turn for answers or support.

Luckily, things were a little different at home. I attribute much of my strength, confidence, and sense of self to my upbringing. My loving parents were always supportive of me in everything that I loved and everything I pursued, and not once have I ever feared I would lose that. That being said, we didn’t have much conversation about the subject in our family either—not out of fear or for the sake of moral uprightness but rather because it simply never came up.

Looking back, it’s easy to see how this denial phase served a rather important purpose in my coming-out journey. It allowed me to act as though everything was normal while I worked things out at my own pace until I felt confident enough in my identity to share it with others. In a more real sense, however, it was a little bleaker than that. This piecemeal approach to grappling with my reality was more of a survival tactic than a practical coping mechanism. I was caught in an ever-deepening void, a discord between how I acted on the outside and how I felt on the inside.

It seems almost silly now that I even considered my sexuality to be ambiguous, since it was so obvious at that point. The truth is, my denial really wasn’t just external. I really believed it myself. I didn’t think I was going to change, but I had to be certain not only that I experienced same-sex attraction but that I also couldn’t possibly experience attraction to the opposite sex at that point in my life.

I reached that point during my senior year of high school. By then adulthood was approaching. My feelings of attraction had not changed—if anything, they were stronger than ever—and I came to the realization that I genuinely lacked the ability to have a real, complete relationship with a woman. I approached this inevitability slowly and learned to seek out ways that I could live a happy and meaningful single life. I adapted my expectations for the future, and rather than focusing on marriage and starting a family, I focused on education, my immediate family, and travel. Having moved around a lot growing up, I’d already learned how to deal with loneliness and be happy by myself. Experiences of feeling lonely and not relying on others to bring my life fulfillment helped me grow closer to my Savior and develop a strong sense of self. I knew that although I would likely live out my life without being married, I would never be truly lonely. That brought me great comfort.

My first year of college at BYU was very trying. Socially, I struggled to find my niche. I began dealing with a number of mental issues very early on, which persisted throughout the school year and heavily impacted my grades. While these weren’t the result of my struggles with being Mormon and gay, it certainly made dealing with those issues more difficult.

Shortly after finishing the school year, I was called to serve in the Uruguay Montevideo West Mission. I was to report to the Argentina MTC, in Buenos Aires, at the end of August 2013. However, during this time my mental health took a severe hit, and I was honorably released and sent home after five months of service.

After returning from my mission, I slowly began coming out to more people. I can honestly say that being open only gets easier to a point, and even then only slightly. I’m not very public about being gay; I only mention it if I need to. Regardless, doing so has continued to bring peace and joy to my life as it allows me to live more authentically.

As I have been more open with myself about my feelings, I have noticed my desires have matured and become more consistent and wholesome. When I was growing up, I found my attractions were more shallow, more carnal, and more difficult to control. However, as I started to live authentically, I noticed my desires and even my attractions evolved as I became more aware of what would bring me real, lasting happiness. I hear many people characterize same-sex attraction as a temptation. My experience has been that this is an oversimplification, just like it would be if it were used to describe opposite-sex attraction. Naturally, there is temptation inherent with it, but it is not in and of itself a temptation. The only difference is in the object of affection. Same-sex attraction isn’t an illness either.

The first and biggest challenge I have faced both before and after being “out” is heartache, in a variety of forms. One form is loneliness. At first I was fairly committed to the idea that I would live a celibate life, since that is what would be required to maintain the full blessings of the gospel. Up to that point, I’d mostly only known the physical attraction. However, as I stopped repressing my feelings and began thinking about what I really wanted in life, I came to perceive the kind of joy that can be felt in sharing my life with someone I truly love. It’s easier on some days than on others to face the probability that I will go through this life without being married.

In the grand scheme of things, I know I can live a happy and fulfilling life as a single person. In spite of this, however, I may always feel a longing for that kind of companionship.

In spite of the trials I have overcome and the challenges I face, being a Latter-day Saint and gay has taught me lessons in profound ways I would have never before imagined. Arguably the most important are the virtues of faith, hope, and charity. My experiences as a gay Latter-day Saint have strengthened my faith as I learn to live with ambiguities, learn to recognize the Spirit, and learn to put my trust in the Lord and His timing.

One of the most beautiful lessons I’ve learned is that of hope. I have no way of knowing whether or not I’ll ever be able to find someone to spend my life with. Realistically, the chances are not very high. In spite of that, it is worth it to me to fight for it, hope for it, and be optimistic about it. The same is true with the gospel. We have no way of tangibly proving that many of the things we hope for will come to pass, but we fight for them against all odds because they’re worth it. Finally, I have learned charity as I have endured my own struggles and watched others endure theirs.

I have come to understand the value of the pure love of Christ. I know God lives and loves us. He knows each one of us completely because He created us. I know that Christ atoned not just for our sins but also for our pains and afflictions in mortality. I have faith that we are in His hands, that all will work out for the best, because that is His divine design. I have a testimony of the power and beauty of charity. I love my Savior and my Father in Heaven, and I’m grateful every day for the blessings and experiences I have been given in this life.

Robin’s Story: Tonya’s Bishop

Robin sees Andy the way any bishop would see a devoted member of a congregation. Everyone has challenges; Andy’s just so happens to be living with same-sex attraction. However, that doesn’t keep him from holding a calling and serving his ward family. According to Robin, Andy’s presence is a blessing to their ward.

My involvement with Andy and the Millers is devoid of any drama. There have not been any emotional rescues or long, anguished interviews with Andy on my part. Andy has not asked for any special attention, and he and his family have contributed greatly to our ward since their arrival. I say this because it seems Andy has never wanted to make a big deal about his sexual orientation.

He likes to be treated like everyone else. And why not? He is not unlike any of us. We all have our unique experiences, and together we support one another.

Andy’s father, Dylan, is our Young Men president. His mother, Tonya, is a Gospel Doctrine teacher. His younger sister and brothers are active in their respective classes and quorums. Andy is a counselor in the elders quorum. He is supportive of his president and serves faithfully.

My counselors and I view Andy in the same light as we view any other ward member, or community member for that matter. He hasn’t done anything wrong that I am aware of. While he certainly is not perfect, none of us are. We all hope to benefit from the reconciliation with the Lord that is possible through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

Andy had already submitted his mission papers while living in his former stake and ward. The fact that Andy wanted to serve indicates that he has a testimony, a belief in our Savior and in the Restoration of the gospel. When his mission call arrived, Andy and his family found that he was called to serve in Uruguay. I was invited to join with the family as Andy was set apart by President Crandall. The scene was like every other setting apart that I have attended. The family was given the opportunity to share feelings and advice; they laughed and cried. Andy made a valiant effort to serve as a full-time missionary. But for reasons that may or may not be related to his same-sex attraction, he was unable to finish his full-time mission and was given an early release. It was not, I want to emphasize, due to any unwillingness on the part of the mission president to have Andy continue his service; rather, it was due to some mental health challenges Andy was experiencing at the time.

When he arrived back in our ward, I know that Andy was disappointed at not being able to finish his mission. In an interview with me, he expressed his desire to stay with the faith and serve the Lord in other ways. To my knowledge, Andy’s faith has never wavered.

Not too long after Andy’s return, his elders quorum president asked that Andy be called to serve as one of his counselors. We discussed this as a bishopric and felt like the call would be good for Andy and the members of the quorum. We felt like the call was an inspired one, and we made the recommendation to the stake president. We felt no reason to deny Andy this opportunity. Since that time, he has served faithfully and well. He attends presidency meetings, visits quorum members with the other members of the presidency, and acts in all ways like a good counselor should. When the elders quorum president is unavailable, Andy attends our ward council and priesthood executive committee meetings.

During his time in our ward, Andy has been accepted by the congregation. Many do not know of Andy’s attraction to the same gender. Those that do know treat Andy with the love and respect befitting any of our Father’s children. Andy makes this easy by being amiable and friendly in return.

Only Andy could tell us about what it has been like for him to live in a Latter-day Saint environment while experiencing same-sex attraction. But from my perspective, while quiet and reserved, he is happy and well adjusted. He has a family that is incredibly supportive and neighbors and friends who treat him with kindness and love. His presence has been a blessing to our ward.

I believe that the Savior loves us all equally and has offered Himself as a ransom for all of the Father’s children. He is no respecter of persons and invites us all to receive the fruits of His Atonement. I believe that He understands and empathizes with the various challenges we face, irrespective of what they may be.

I believe that He is aware of Andy, knows him by name, and loves him without reservation, just as we have come to do in our ward.