How do you identify?

The more I think about the reasons we use labels, the more I feel uncomfortable with them. Mainly because it feels like a sense of boundary or limitation that I'm trying to escape by using terms like pansexual or genderqueer. And so part of me wants to shake it off. So if we're trying to get to some sort of understanding of preferences and identity, then I guess those are the labels that feel the most comfortable for me right now.

What was your experience like with religion growing up?

Religion was at my moral center for my entire childhood. There wasn't a time in my life where my parents' teachings or the structure of my life wasn't attached to religious doctrine. And most of that had to do with attending a church every Saturday night or Sunday or being required to be part of a bible study or a youth group dynamic.

But more than that, my dad would read the bible to me and my brother every night and talk about it and we were always asked to pray at dinner - you know, all those stereotypical Christian Protestant practices very much infiltrated my identity as a kid. Even to the extent of how I perceived art. I wasn't allowed to listen to any music that wasn't Christian. And more than being allowed to, my parents just didn't give me access to it. So it meant that I found my love of music really young but the only reference point I had was the Christian music I was allowed to listen to.

How do you think your experience with Christianity in your childhood impacted your overall sense of self — particularly as it relates to your queer identity?

It created a void in myself that was filled with denial. And I know that's kind of paradoxical, to say there's a void filled with something, but there was definitely a large space left for exploration and understanding that I just wouldn't even let myself tap into because I was so deeply afraid and ashamed. I genuinely feel like it manifested as denial. Like it wasn't even something I even allowed myself to consider.

I was just thinking about this the other day in terms of gender, because one of my friends was writing about how he's always felt trans and was telling his parents that as a kid. And I was like, it's interesting that I've never had that kind of experience where I was like, “I'm not my assigned gender,” or, “I don't fit into the body that I'm in,” but I always felt a resistance to this womanhood idea that kept being projected onto me. And because of the Christian framework I'd been raised in, I didn't realize that that's really what I was challenging. I think I thought like it's patriarchy and it's the oppression and the things that come along with womanhood that I didn't like, but I think it was even deeper than that, and I just genuinely didn't allow myself to even explore that as a possibility.

So where has all of that left you now with religion and spirituality?

I mean I never identified as religious, even though I think people would ascribe that term to me, because I always felt really open to different beliefs and faith practices. And that was always something — in addition to the queerness, the limitations on belief that is centered in the Christian doctrine always kind of rubbed against me and felt untrue. So I had this deep connection to Spirit that was facilitated through Christianity cause that was the language I was taught. But I don't think I ever felt religious aside from the fear that came with the religiosity of like, “this is gonna happen if you're not good.”

So I think there was always an internal pressure to be "good" in some sort of way — in whatever kind of made up manifestations I was told. And so now, because I've been able to unpack a lot of that, and I'm still working on it, but I feel so much less attached to that particular view of goodness and righteousness; and therefore, honestly I feel more connected to Spirit, but less connected to community. My religious practice used to be attending a church, and praying at certain times, and celebrating holidays, and now it's so much more about being present in my body, and being honest with my thoughts, and journaling and connecting with nature, and the environment. And not that those things weren't present before, but just that they've now become central almost to replace the doctrinal practices I had before.

I think that's the biggest way, and the lack of clear cut community. Like I have friends that I talk to about spiritual things, but it's far less organized and intentional. Sometimes I really miss having that gravitational force like, “I know everything's going to be ok because I believe in this.”

What has healing from that experience looked like for you — and as a part 2 to that, the lack of community piece around your spirituality now? What has reckoning with that part of your experience looked like?

God, I wish I knew. [laughs] I think, honestly, there's still more feeling that needs to be done around the hurt and trauma I received, not just from people rejecting my queerness, which was one part of my experience, but then Christians rejecting me in a different way that really on the surface had nothing to do with my queerness but everything to do with my Blackness. And then in another sense of that, Christian leaders rejecting me, but like I honestly still don't know what exactly happened or why. But I just lost connection and therefore, deep respect and trust for people who I thought really cared for me for over a year. So trying to heal from that will take a bit more time before I'm able to step into any kind of intentional spiritual community.

But I'm grateful for the individual connections that I made. And that allowed me to have those kind of conversations. And I'm hopeful that one day, I'll come across a group of people who share connected values and my curiosity. And no one is perfect. I'm not assuming I will never get hurt again but just that I will be strong enough and centered enough in my own sense of self that it won't shake me the way that it has before.

One of the things that I'm excited for about queer community is that by definition, it's expansive. Like the whole purpose of queerness is to reject limitations, to reject boundaries. And all the people I know who have built queer community…it's messy as fuck! We are so dramatic. [laugh] We are like so broken and traumatized and trying to pull our shit together. But we love hard and we're willing to fight for that. And I haven't found like my core people yet, but I know enough individual people who live their lives that way — that I know it's way better than what I experienced in the Christian church, in the evangelical church.

And it's something that to this day— ugh! It frustrates me so much to hear my parents talk evangelically, like use that language. Because I'm like you don't even know what the fuck you're saying anymore! Like this is meaningless to you. You've parroted it so many times that it's almost like you're saying it because you think that God is gonna be happy that you're thinking of things that way and using that language and like…God don't give a fuck! [laugh] Like I'm so sorry. Like that is not what God cares about.

Who or what has been instrumental in helping you through your healing journey?

This is weird but honestly the pandemic…like 2019/2020 was the time that I really started grappling with these things. In 2019, it was because I had just graduated college and so I really felt like I had space to myself for the first time — like space to think and to decide. And I was attached to this church community because I was working there but there was something about not being in a school environment that suddenly made me feel a bit more liberated.

I remember being in Kenya at the end of 2019, beginning of 2020 and just like fighting with my dad, in particular, about queerness and being so intensely emotional in a way that I hadn't fully allowed myself to be before. Like I'd always felt, but would just like push it down. And I ran outside of our house and had to do my breathing exercises, calm down, and my brother came back and he's like, “dude are you good?”

And for some reason, it finally hit me that I was like, “oh, I'm getting worked up about this because he's talking about me!” Literally for the first time! I was like, why does it activate me so much? Like my brother's obviously upset, but it doesn't impact him the same way. And I was like, “Oh my God!” And I articulated it to him in that moment and he's like, “Dude, you know I always love you,” and that was a really kind of pivotal moment for me.

And then I think moving into the beginning of 2020, it was a very similar kind of reckoning with other friends, like other people at my church who I knew felt a certain way and would make certain comments that would really upset me. Or even on the opposite end, friends who I had who were queer but who I never related to on that level, who I then began to ask more questions — and they just made space for me to be that. Particularly, my friend Julian who was incarcerated from like July 2018 to September 2019 as we were reconnecting and reestablishing our relationship. He's gay and one of the foundational things, I think, that brought us closer together was talking about queerness and asking him what his coming out process was like. And he was like, “I'm grateful that you came out to me and that you feel like that's a process you need to take — and you don’t need to come out to anyone. Like you can just be who the fuck you are and you don't have to make it a big thing or put any pressure on yourself, ” and that was so relieving to just be like, “God! I'm not going to come out to all these people at work or to my parents in a certain way or any of that shit. I'm just going to be gay. That's enough.”

What would you tell your younger self right now about this journey about their queerness, about being in church? All of that shit. What advice would you give yourself for navigating it?

It’s cliché, but I would tell them, don't be afraid of yourself — like all the parts that you feel like you have to hide because no one will ever love, or the things that you're ashamed of, or the things that actually make you really special and unique and are gifts from the universe — or whatever creation origin we came from. That’s not something to run from or hide from, but to embrace.