“The words coursed through my body looking for an answer an answer I owed only myself.”
He stood just inside my office.
Hed pulled the door closed behind him.
I need to ask you a question, he told me.
I was a 44-year-old pastor.
My desk was cluttered with set lists for the upcoming church series.
That weekend, I was to sing Beautiful Things by Michael Gungor a song I adored.
It promised I could be new.
There was nothing I wanted more.
Are you gay, Matt?
It surprised me, but I was strangely calm.
It was a question I hadnt been asked since college.
A question Id been haunted by since junior high.
The words coursed through my body looking for an answer an answer I owed only myself.
Sure, hes gay.
Most knew it wasnt their business to ask, but he wanted to know.
He had his reasons.
A list of books Id purchased from Amazon were visible on my profile.
One of the church parishioners had seen it and this information had gotten around.
The particular book in question was about sexual orientation.
I was searching for answers, even though answers werent what I needed.
Freedom was what I needed.
He didnt seem angry, he seemed uncomfortable, and rightly so.
I was born into the Church like it was my fucking birthright.
I was used to judgment.
Churches like mine were renowned for it.
Id never seen him look unsure of himself.
This was a good leader decisive and strong.
Hed always treated me well.
I wondered if hed paused outside my office before entering.
It felt like someone had put him up to it even if he believed that someone was God.
I have never cheated on her not ever, I finally said.
I didnt answer his question, but Ididtell the truth.
There was cheap tension between us something neither of us was being compensated for.
If I could go back in time, Id look him directly in the eye and say, Yeah.
Less than six months later, I would be gone from that church.
As a spiritual community, we needed to do better.
I told them I didnt.
After that, they passed me through, and I met Phillip.
I posted a sign-up sheet in our church lobby.
Unfortunately, though not surprisingly, no one from our church showed for the event.
Our church welcomed 8,000 people each weekend.
It was a megachurch.
Each weekend, I stood before a massive crowd, singing my guts out about the love of God.
I couldnt do it anymore.
I wasnt thrown out.
Instead, I was told they wouldnt tolerate my publicly saying things about welcoming queer people.
But it was too late.
Something had changed in me.
I couldnt make that promise.
So, I resigned.
I imagine leadership was relieved.
This was the story.
This was how we shared it with the congregation.
It never got ugly during this time of transition.
I would never have done that, and neither would they.
Instead, we walked quietly away from each other.
Leaving the church isnt a badge of honor.
In fact, quite the opposite.
Its something Ive had to make peace with.
I waited so long to speak out too long.
I was moving on.
A year after that, my first book was published.
Things were going well, though, inside, the secret of my sexuality was eating me alive.
The real turning point came in November 2016.
Trina had died of metastatic breast cancer.
She was herself always.
I wasnt sure I had ever been.
At the end of the service, everyone headed for their cars.
I needed to tell her one last thing.
I should have told you this before, I said, even though Im sure you already know.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
I think Im gay, Trina.
Im pretty sure I am, and I dont know what to do.
I wiped my tears, told her I loved her, and headed back to my car.
So, get on with it.
For me, this was the beginning.
One year from the day of my sisters funeral, I shared my coming-out story on social media.
Matts a real hero.
The vitriol was painful.
I understood peoples anger.
I hadnt lived honestly.
I had pretended to be someone I wasnt.
Over the years, however, Ive come to understand this differently.
None of us has life figured out.
The best we can do is do our best.
And within the birthright Id been given this straight life I trusted was designed by God thiswasmy best.
Since coming out, Ive lost friends and family members I deeply love.
Ive disappointed many people.
But this one thing remains the same: I didnt disappoint myself.
I dont regret it.
With the onslaught of negativity and accusation, I kept two thoughts in front of me.
The first: I wasnt happy in my life and believed a change thischange could bring happiness and peace.
The second: The life Id been living wasnt the life Id imagined or longed for.
I wanted something else.
Something that fit who I was.
This didnt make me a bad person.
It made me human.
The choice was mine to make.
So, I made it.
There were major hurdles.
There were those too.
I did not make this transition in isolation.
A therapist, mentor and friends were all there walking me through.
In November 2020, I sat in my friend Daniels home, scrolling through Tinder.
My 50th birthday was a week away and I was in a terrible funk.
What I wanted was a husband someone who would love me like crazy.
I thought it might never happen.
He looks like a game show host, I said, feeling real sorry for myself.
Daniel looked back at the picture.
Boo … LOOK AT HIM!
His profile is great.
Hes a family man.
And hes YOUR AGE!
Id like to report a personal attack, I replied.
Daniel rolled his eyes, and without my consent, swiped right on Christopher David Evans.
As soon as he did, a digital graphic bounced across the screen of my phone.
The next day, I woke up to a message in my Tinder inbox from the game show host.
Can I take you out for coffee on your birthday?
I couldnt have possibly known it at the time, but this was the day my life got made.
Less than nine months after our coffee date, Chris and I were married among friends and loved ones.
Ive never been happier.
Never felt more loved.
Never been more myself.
When do we begin searching for a fulfilling life?
And when we find it, will all the sacrifices have been worth it?
I cant answer these questions for anyone else, but I do believe the answers lie within us.
They arent hiding from us.
We are hiding from them.
And fear is keeping us stuck.
I wanted a husband.
I made the difficult decision to free myself and go looking for one.
Unfortunately, there was a cost to this decision.
Everything I was afraid would happen, happened.
Things were broken along the way.
Thankfully, not all those things stayed broken.
Time passes, and with love, healing and hard work, most things get put right.
Life is a complex tapestry of experiences and relationships, including those with family.
The process of coming out can cause connections to shift and paths to diverge.
One day, I believe coming out will be a thing of the past.
But I did find me.
So now, if I ever hear, I need to ask you a question, Matt.
I wont hesitate to respond, Yes, honey so damn gay.
Once a closeted minister, Matts unique perspective inspires authenticity and courage.
Like and follow on Instagram@mattbayswriter.
Or visit his website atmattbays.me.
Matt lives in Cincinnati with his husband, Chris.
This article originally appeared onHuffPost.
