When Mixed-Orientation Marriage Is Right

Who should pursue one and how to succeed

At a recent family dinner, a relative of mine was lamenting the prospect of marriage.

It’s not an uncommon phenomenon. To be fair, she’s a politically progressive, 3rd-wave feminist, active Latter-day Saint woman living in the relatively conservative Provo, Utah. Her dating pool of men who share both her religious values and political priorities is rather slim.

I had gotten to the dinner late, after a rather stressful day at work, so I arrived frantically in the middle of her grievance-stricken monologue. We often have discussions about our political differences, so I begrudgingly but naturally hopped into the conversation. After a minute or two, she asked a question I wasn’t ready for:

“What can a man provide me that I can’t provide myself?”

The question took me completely off guard because the answer seemed so obvious to me. So much so, that until then, I had hardly taken any time to formulate a response. She might as well have asked why I thought brownies tasted good or why it’s wrong to punch babies.

“Well, uh, there’s the obvious one of children, and–well…” I stumbled. I knew I had a good answer in the depths of my mind, but I couldn’t find it. It didn’t help that I was carrying the stress from work into dinner. With less grace than I should've offered her, I expressed how ridiculous I thought the question was, and the conversation fizzled out.

I’ve since asked her about the level of sincerity behind the question. I asked whether or not it was fueled primarily by personal frustrations or if she was genuinely struggling to pinpoint any tangible benefits of involving herself with such a foundational institution.

“There is of course some fear of loneliness,” she responded. “But I also feel like that fear is rooted in the idea that true happiness can only be found in a marriage. And I disagree with that notion. I am a whole person who doesn’t need my “better half” to feel complete or fulfilled. My life is full of so many loving and fulfilling relationships. I think the way we put marriage on a pedestal causes those who struggle to find a partner to feel as though their life won’t begin or have meaning until they marry. I don’t want to wait around for a man for my life to begin. I have a full and complete life on my own.

Marriage can be an extremely satisfying and rewarding relationship. [But it] is simply not the only way to find fulfillment in life. It’s one path, but I don’t think it’s the one and only.”

Her answer has a lot of genuine concern and nuanced reflection in it. At the same time, it’s representative of the recent and noticeable decline in how much we value marriage in modern society.

Ideologies like modern feminism teach that marriage is just one in a long list of paths to life fulfillment. I grew up with the (I think correct) assumption that marriage was the path to ultimate life fulfillment. So much so, that I naturally recoiled when I was asked whether or not marriage is beneficial. But just because I grew up with a clear picture of its benefits, that doesn’t mean it’s an unworthy question or that others don’t have to wrestle with it. We still have to make the case for marriage even when it seems so obvious to some of us.

While there are certainly differences in the conversation about mixed-orientation marriages, I’m convinced that marital indifference is one of the many obstacles bleeding into the community of gay/SSA Latter-day Saints.

I hear from many of these Saints, and they wrestle with all of the usual questions and concerns about marriage, as well as some added ones. Some feel hopeless in their pursuit to live the restored gospel. Some strongly desire to have a temple marriage with a woman they love, but they don’t know how to get there. Some have no desire to get married and are wondering how to obtain that desire. Others have never wanted or never plan on wanting a marriage and wonder how or if they can still be happy.

I’ve struggled to write about the topic of mixed-orientation marriage because it’s easy to be misunderstood. In addition to being misunderstood, talking about marriage has the potential of creating pain for those who feel they won’t or can’t ever achieve it. 

So, why write about it at all?

While I can’t claim I have resolute answers to all of the questions posed above, the pursuit of answering them can bring much-needed clarity and hope to those who need it most. 

All ideals carry with them possible distress for those who haven’t reached them. We should have these conversations with care for those whose souls ache for the ideal, but it’s essential to still have them.

The community of gay/SSA Latter-day Saints considering a temple marriage thinks about this question extremely often and deeply. While I don’t speak for this community at large, I’ve heard from them, observed them, and wrestled with the same fears and questions they encounter.

Namely, is a temple marriage to the opposite sex for everyone, including gay/SSA Latter-day Saints? If it’s not, who are the exceptions and how should we handle them? How can you know whether or not you are an exception, and how should you proceed with that knowledge?

Who is Marriage for?

In all my efforts speaking and writing about LGBTQ issues in the church, this question is by far the hardest with which I’ve wrestled. Because I’ve been so blessed in my own marriage, I want to give a resolute “yes, 100%, absolutely” to the question of whether or not other gay/SSA Latter-day Saints should always pursue a mixed-orientation marriage. I’ve felt that anything other than a “yes” to that question would undermine the importance of marriage or discourage others from pursuing that which would make them most happy. However, as with most questions, there are some nuances worth examining.

I’ve recently spent a lot of time thinking, writing, and talking about the danger of destroying ideals for the sake of acknowledging legitimate exceptions. In our era of deconstructionism, ideals are viewed with indifference or contempt instead of the reverence they deserve—the most obvious and consequential being heterosexual marriage and the nuclear family.

Many times it’s those who have not reached the ideals that lead the charge in devaluing them. Undermining ideals—or labeling yourself as an exception to the rule—can prove to be rather therapeutic to the pain of not reaching the ideal. But is it helpful to tear down the ideal when we don’t reach it?

According to nearly all available data, the rule with marriage is that it’s the most life-giving, fulfilling path one could enter. Exceptions to that rule may exist, but they are exceptionally rare. As such, my humble advice to gay/SSA Saints is to be incredibly careful about labeling yourself as one of these rare exceptions. (We’ll explore in a moment whether or not mixed-orientation marriages follow this rule).

In a recent conversation with a single, gay Latter-day Saint I greatly respect, he told me that while he doesn’t feel God pushing him to actively date right now, he refuses to choose any alternative that would close the door on temple marriage. It takes immense emotional rigor and maturity to purposefully exist in that balance. It’s painful to keep that door open, but from what I can tell, the alternative isn’t better.

While it’s possible you could find a spouse after closing the door to marriage, it’s more likely to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you’re not looking for opportunities, fewer will come your way. If you’re not preparing yourself to be a worthy spouse, whenever that opportunity does come, you’ll be further behind in your preparation than you could be. While achieving any given ideal is preferred, the express purpose of an ideal is to get us to a higher plane than we’d be without it. We’ll never truly reach the pinnacle of perfection in this life, but without the goal of perfection, we wouldn’t even get close.

Marriage is an amplifier; because it greatly increases the stakes in your life, hard moments are even harder, and stressors are stronger. Fortunately, the reverse is true. Marriage makes the good times better. It can make the happy moments even happier. In short, it amplifies the feelings we experience in life, making our world brighter and fuller.

Humans are designed for growth. Our understanding of eternal progression in the hereafter is a big reason the restored gospel is such a rich theology. We are endowed with the desire to grow and change, develop and progress. We are each on a different trajectory, but through modern revelation, we understand that an eternal marriage to the opposite sex is a fundamental tenet of eternity. Whether we pursue it in this life is ultimately up to us, but I can’t see any significant downfalls in striving for a head start. 

Am I An Exception?

So, how do you know if marriage isn’t for you? 

As a general rule, marriage is associated with higher levels of happiness in life. So the question is: do mixed-orientation marriages follow that same rule?

The research on mixed-orientation marriages is shaky. It’s likely that many in mixed-orientation marriages aren’t open about their sexuality. Of those who are, many don’t identify with the LGBTQ label, making it harder to identify them. The studies we do have show mixed results. The one thing they tend to have in common is the conclusion about what makes mixed-orientation marriages successful. Specifically, successful mixed-orientation marriages share common practices with other successful marriages. These include “…religious commitments, love for their spouse and children, trust, and a desire to remain committed to their partner.” Another one lists, “...community integration, candid communication, honesty, peer support, effective counseling, and care for children.” In other words, the same best practices that make a traditional marriage fulfilling apply to mixed-orientation marriages.

Pursuing a mixed-orientation marriage means entering into relatively uncharted territory. Not pursuing one means grappling with the hard realities associated with a single life or a rejection of your religious foundation. This isn’t to say your life will be miserable without marriage. It is to honestly assess the hard realities faced by same-sex attracted Latter-day Saints.

To some, those two options are deflating. In my case, honestly identifying and calculating the pros and cons of these choices empowered me to make the decision I did.

I hear many church members assert that the church doesn’t have a place for LGBTQ people. After reading the last paragraph, it might be your inclination to say the same. To give the devil his due, what is fair about expecting us to be celibate or marry someone we’re not traditionally attracted to? I sympathize fully with this idea, but it comes with two misconceptions: first, that it’s significantly harder for mixed-orientation couples to cultivate a thriving relationship; and second, that the purpose of the gospel is to remove all of life’s unfairness and barriers to happiness.

Now comes the inevitable misunderstanding. What I’m not arguing: if you’re gay, of marrying age, and you’re not already married to the opposite sex, it automatically means you’re less faithful, less valuable, or less resilient. What I am arguing: marriage will likely bring more joy into your life. Recognizing that fact, being honest about the barriers in your path, and earnestly identifying how and if you can remove those barriers–while offering yourself grace—is a worthy goal. 

The gospel is the vehicle designed to carry us toward Christ. While we all have access to the same vehicle, each of our roads will look different. Some have more potholes and loose gravel. Some wind more sharply around higher cliffs. Some present more dangerous, enticing roads more often, and some aren’t even paved. 

As with most things, our parents were wise when they told us that life isn’t fair. Acknowledging that fact doesn’t mean we’re waving the white flag in our pursuit to rectify injustices. Acknowledging the unfairness of life empowers us to embrace our disadvantages and refuse to let them overtake us.

How Did I Get Here?

I’ve pondered at length about how and why I was so blessed to so quickly find such an amazing wife. Part of me feels guilty that it came so easy for me when it feels so out of reach for so many others. I attribute much of my success to the many examples I had in my life of successful temple marriages and nuclear families.

Growing up, I certainly feared I wouldn’t find a woman I love, but I never truly struggled to keep the door of a temple marriage open. Whenever I pictured my future as a child, I always imagined myself as a husband to a wife with children of our own. Observing the many good examples of successful nuclear families around me made me want one of my own. My testimony of the restored gospel fueled this resolve. I saw no reason or incentive to rebel against the truths I held dear, and I saw no reason why I shouldn’t put all my effort toward achieving the life I wanted.

My problem wasn’t that I struggled to see myself with a woman; my problem was that I had another door open as well—the door to being with a man. I never genuinely entertained that reality beyond an occasional daydream, but it was still a door I had to work on closing. While my wife, Amanda, and I were dating, I struggled to finally close that door.

I believed in the reality of the restored gospel; I didn’t want to leave the church; I didn’t want to deal with the cognitive dissonance of remaining in the church while pursuing a same-sex relationship; and most important, I wanted more than anything to be married in the temple to a woman I loved. My testimony was intact, the woman was presented to me rather effortlessly, and my future looked bright. Still, I saw that other door closing, and I couldn’t help but want to continue peering in. My foot felt antsy, feeling the need to plant itself in the doorframe to stop it from shutting. It wasn’t that I didn’t love Amanda or want a future with her. It was simply the natural effect of experiencing same-sex attraction and a desire to have a traditional, temple marriage at the same time. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I successfully closed the door to a relationship with a man, but it certainly happened before we were married.

I always believed I’d find some level of happiness in my marriage, but I also figured it would come from an excess of white-knuckling and grit. Thankfully, this immature view I had of what our marriage would be proved to be very wrong. My genuine desire for a temple marriage was sometimes overshadowed by a duty-bound effort to please God. Now it’s my greatest blessing, and the fact that I’m following God in the process is an added bonus to my fulfilling marriage. It takes grit to cultivate, but no more than any other marriage.

Finding a fulfilling and lasting temple marriage for me meant intentionally imagining myself in that role. If you have a goal but never imagine yourself in the aftermath of reaching it, you’ll likely never reach it. Or, when you do, you’ll be less ready to thrive in your new reality.

It should be noted that crafting the narrative of our desired future shouldn’t be confused with self-deception or denial. In order to get to where I could close the door to a relationship with a man, I had to acknowledge and accept it was a door I wanted to enter.

Denial is a coping mechanism, so it can be enticing to ignore hard realities instead of wrestling with them. It was hard to acknowledge that even though I wanted a wife and children more, I still had the strong pull of being with a man. Even worse, I likely could’ve found some level of real joy and fulfillment pursuing that course.

We often cope with the hardship tied to choosing God by painting the opposing path as nothing but miserable. In reality, the effect of choosing ourselves over God isn’t immediate, unadulterated misery; it’s a stifling of our progression. A stunted progression does eventually lead to torment and pain, but there’s often a delay in our day of reckoning. The same is true with the rewards of righteous living.

The delay in both our punishments and rewards makes it easy to justify our sins and lament our faithfulness. After all, how bad can sin be if the wicked seem happy? How good can choosing God be if the righteous so often suffer? These questions are worth asking, but their premise is wrong. Rewards and punishments don’t come with a timestamp, but they do come with certainty.

Of course, not every reward is delayed. I’ve already begun to reap my reward for choosing God in the fruits of my beautiful marriage and children. But we’ve also only begun to understand the recompense for choosing God.

 The best things in life truly do take time, but the rewards do come. As Elder Holland has said,

“Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until heaven; but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come.”

My hope is that we stop tearing down ideals when we fail to reach them. I hope we can have grace for those who choose differently while unrelenting in our efforts to point each other heavenward. I hope we can find the nuance of honestly calculating our different options in life without feeling deflated. Most of all, I hope we can each prepare ourselves to be the spouse someone else deserves while hanging on to the hope that fuels our progression.