On Friday, May 13, JP Davis shared a photo of an assignment from the Christian Academy of Louisville on social media. The assignment asked students to write a letter to a hypothetical friend “struggling with homosexuality” to persuade them of “the goodness of God’s design” in a way that “does not approve of any sin.” The Academy has since confirmed the authenticity of the assignment and stated that it is under review. However, the school also reiterated its belief that marriage should be between a man and a woman and that sex should only occur within marriage.

In response, Davis wrote an inspiring letter to his younger self, which LEO Weekly later republished. For the Pride Issue, LEO Weekly built on this idea, inviting other LGBTQ community members to write letters to their younger selves. Here are their heartfelt responses:

Keith McGill

Letter to My Younger Self

Yes, you are fat. Yes, you are asthmatic. No, you are not athletic because… see above. However, your heart is enormous. You cry a lot, but this means you will be incredibly empathetic. You have to figure out what will always upset people, making you an outstanding psychology student. Because you are all these things, you can connect with the kids you teach in ways others cannot.

You are brilliant when it isn’t fantastic but will be, so stay smart. You learned to read early because it is a solitary activity, meaning nobody will bug you. Because you read early, you are the narrator in many plays. This means you’ll be an actor and, eventually, an acting teacher. Now, you can do cool stuff like Shakespeare with prisoners, which touches your soul. Now, you teach kids who would never speak up how valuable they are, whether or not they speak up, which gives them the courage to speak up.

Also, remember this: Nobody’s paying as much attention to you as you are to yourself. So when it’s harmful, pay less attention to yourself. Please pay more attention to yourself when standing up for yourself.

It’s OK to say no. There will be little guilt. There will be some hurt feelings, but ultimately, you will be more relaxed and less resentful. Also, the fact that you remember everyone’s birthdays will prove invaluable for the rest of your life, Facebook notwithstanding.

Dortha Hagan

To the Girl with the Lilac Hair,

I love you, and you deserve safety, love, and peace, and it will be okay. I know it doesn’t freak out now. I know you feel you are always one step away from the rug being pulled out. I know that you aren’t sure whether you feel okay in the “e “strain “ht” world or” ay” world. You feel like ydon’tn’t fit in, like an outsider, if you claim bisexuality. It gets so much better. You find your people who accept you no matter what. You find your love and a circle of friends so excellent, safe, and loving that it’s hard to remember the girl with the lilac hair. I promise it gets better. Now you have a queer family and three wonderful kids, one of whom has these same questions, and now you have the honor of holding their hand on their journey.

All my love, Dortha

Greg Cornett

It’s been quite a while since we spent time together. The truth is, going back to where you are right now is still painful. You are different than most boys your age. You know that, and so do you. That’ss why you regularly endure jokes, harsh words, and sometimes even worse treatment from them.

But what ydon’tn’t yet realize is that you are gay. You were gay when you came into existence, and the time you spend wishing, praying, and trying to force yourself to be different cannot and will not change that reality.

You are a small-town middle school kid growing up in the Bible Belt in the 1980s. Ydon’tn’t know anyone who is out, and the only thing you see in the media about homosexuality relates to panic and death from the AIDS epidemic. So, the thought of being gay is not only foreign to you; it seems like an inevitable end to any hope you have for a happy future. It is simply NOT an option.

But I want to fast forward nearly 30 years. You will not only survive but thrive. While the path will not be easy, and there will be hurt and pain along the way, you will eventually accept your identity and even love yourself as an out gay man.

While I would never want anyone to experience the fear and pain you are enduring and will endure for years, those experiences also bring good things along the way (the most wonderful of which are your two daughters and eventual grandchildren). So, I cannot regret those years for you. Even still, there are things I wish you had known all those years ago.

I wish you knew that the things that make y”u “differ”nt” are strengths. The books you love to read as an escape are broadening your horizons. The gentle spirit that some say makes you soft is the foundation of love, compassion, and empathy that will serve you well in your relationships as an adult. Your love of learning, which earns you the label “teacher’s p”t,” will propel you out of that small town and onto experiences and successes you cannot fathom. And your love of music, fashion, and the aris isn’t weird but another facet of a colorful and whole life.

I wish you knew your existence is not a sin or an abomination. The handful of Bible verses cited against you are misinterpreted and used in ways that go against the Gospel itself. God will not change you because you were created and loved just as you are.

And finally, I hope you know that you will find true joy when you accept yourself. As difficult as it will be to come out, the weight you will feel lifted when that decision is made and the ensuing peace and happiness you will find for the first time in your life cannot be adequately described in words.

So, hang in there, kid! There is nothing wrong with who you are; it all improves. I promise.

Jenn Redmond

Dear Jenn,

For you, it is 1997, and you are fighting to be who you are against so many others telling you who you should be. Your parents don’t accept you, but worse, they are actively fighting to change you. Most of your friends are gone, and you are trapped in a tiny, religious town in Tennessee. You feel the pull of everyone’s expectations and never feel you will be enough. But you are in love with a girl, and she loves you, too. You fight to be together. Ydon’tn’t know this now, but you and that girl spent 24 years together. You and other brave couples fight Indiana for the right to be married to each other – and you win! You have a child together; he is a bright light in your life. Right now, you feel so scared, trapped, and like you only have hard choices. You choose yourself, and you choose love, and you will look back and be so proud of yourself. And the evolution of who you are continues every day. You learn about pansexuality in your 30s and decide that shoe fits better than any other. You feel safe in your identity. Your son will never know a parent whon’tn’t love him for whoever he becomes and loves. As a parent, you continue to break generational traumas passed down to give your son a freedom you did not have. You will never stop fighting for those like you and those who need your help. You have so much pride. Life is a roller coaster, and you will ride the ups and downs while choosing yourself along the way, just as you bravely did at 17 when you left home and forged your path. Thank you for being so brave, and thank you for choosing us. I love you.

Sincerely,

41-year-old you

Noa August

Dear Younger, It’s 2022. There are no flying cars yet, and you have not saved enough money to escape this planet. Unfortunately, you are, in fact, human, not even a drop of extraterrestrial courses through your veins. You feel alienated, yes, and you are slightly different than the folks around you, but that is one of your best superpowers.

You are queer! A striking, non-binary, gender-bending force to be reckoned with, I am so proud of how far you have come.

This queer identity you will grow into is much different from the one you’ve been shown a person can exist. The good news is that by the time you reach your 30s, you will finally begin to own it. You will flourish in both your identity and expression. You no longer feel the constraints of dressing femininely. You no longer wait until you get home to sneak on the clothes y” you “borrow” ed” from your boyfriend.

I know the world feels intimidating, but wear the things that bring you joy. Cut your hair when you’re young. Express yourself and put yourself out there! Understandably, you’re afraid to tell your mom how pretty you think women are, but treat yourself with grace. You want her to feel some peace, and you’ll be safe in a world where you’re already othered; that’s valid.

Eventually, you will find an entire community of folks with likes and dislikes. similSimilarours will be obstacles. You’ll meet lots of cool, eccentric people just like you, and you will realize that no community is without its flaws after a while.

You are queer, even within queer spaces.

And as you become more familiar with yourself and more labels that can describe you—genderqueer, non-binary, autistic, significant terms that cohere to form your intersectionality—you will begin to have more understanding of why and just how queer you are. Become familiar with Behooks’ks’ definition of queue”: “…not as being about you’re having sex with (that can be a dimension of it), but queer as being about the self that is at odds with everything around it and has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to li”e.” Queerness is expansive. It means questioning and exploring all facets of life more than your sexuality; it means forming your definition of what it means to exist and doing so free from prescribed constraints. One day, you won’t have to hide that you don’t feel like a girl or boy. You will be able to dance freely in between you’re a work of art, a symphony of the most affectionate, nurturing divine feminine, and led by the strength, courage, and purposeful drive to overcome challenges, divine masculine. Own that, play with that, and do so unapologetically.

You only have this one life.

Love,

You, at 32,

Noa August

Allie Fireel

Dear Younger Allie,

You want to use some sculpting clay on your hair. I know you already know gisn’tn’t quite right, old-school pomade is too greasy, and hairsprcan’tn’t stand up to the constant motion, energy, vibration, and whole youngest of you. You want a matte finish. Matte me”s “not shi” yWe’re the kind of person who learns through pain or slow, osmotic repetition, neither of which I can offer you today. But just in case, a word or two here can save a little pain by trimming the time it takes to learn from each mistake…

First, it’s not too late. Do the thing. Whatever it is, try it; it’s not too late when you’re 18, 22, or 35. Do the thing. Second, cut down on dreaming and up your planning. Don’t worry; you’ll still dream, but the universe will not do anything for you; nothing will magically happen. Plan, take the first step, take the second step, and keep taking steps. Third, fail. Fail hard, fail often. Fail and love yourself for failing. I knit’st hard, but I promise it’s not impossible. Fourth, hope is not linked to probability. Hope is not even linked to the outcome. Howon’tn’t necessarily change the world, but hope will change you, which is worth hoping. And for the record, I believe that mathematically speaking, walking and living in hope will alter the odds of the world becoming a better place, but the change will be so small ywon’tn’t see it. But other people will feel it.

I should add—there IS room for you inside the queer community. You. How you already are. It IS where you belong, even if your queerneisn’tn’t consistently recognized, even if the queer community sometimes exiles its members for having complex identities.

AF

(Yeah, we will eventually change our name to something very cool. Butdon’tn’t want to spoil the surprise.)

Circe

Dearest Circe,

I hope you aren’tn’t worrying about your appearance to appease the other kids. Twenty-five years from now, your clothes will be more form-fitting because you will accept your body for what it is. There will be kinder words to identify you better, instead “f “tom”oy” “r “but”h.” You will continue to express yourself in what you wear to please yourself instead of the other kids because you eventually realize that you are who you are and people love you. You will eventually have that family you dreamed of because you learn to get rid of the people in your life who think same-sex couplshouldn’tn’t raise children. Then, you will find yourself telling your child they are as wonderful as they are, no matter what the other kids think. And someday, they will learn what I am teaching you now. Ydon’tn’t have to change that you are queer or non-binary or that you are gay, but you can choose who you want to be in your circle. You can choose who your family will be. Those will be the ones who love you for who you indeed are. Living this example will nurture your child where you weren’t.

You be you, sincerely,

Circe

Nick Wilkerson

Dear Younger Nick,

At 11, you knew you were gay before you knew the word for it. When Walmart and Kroger celebrate gay pride, you will see progress—but grimace.

Have more tolerance for those who are not as open “r “publ”c.” You will find enough grace to realize that everyone has their own journey. But you are correct. It would have been more accessible if more were true to themselves.

Please continue to work for LGBTQ+ rights (you will learn what that means through its various evolutions). Keep focusing on employment, housing, etc. You will see advances, but not as soon, as much, or as quickly as you expect.

Keep your INTJ personality and distrust of emotions in check. Remember, progress is not a straight line, and justice arrives in God’s time, not yours. But keep toiling.

When gay marriage arrives (I know, not your fight), be kind when people ask if you ever thought you would see it in your lifetime. Bite your lip and graciously say no. Mentally, you will scream, ‘Hell yes, but a lot earlier and a ton of other stuff.’

You and the world will endure a virus and disease no one knows now. You are unscathed physically but altered by it nonetheless. Celebrate your gay male friends, especially those in grad school. Many—most?—do not see 35.

Your personal life will not always be what you imagine or hope—okay, most of the time. WheOKaritOK, remind yourself of all those awkward experiences in your 20s that your straight peers dealt with in middle school. Other times, you will be cOKnced you are a fool. The truth is somewhere in between. Life is gray and complicated.

I close with the promise I made you decades ago. I’ll never be “that old guy at the bar.”

Doug Lowry

Dear Doug,

Hey Doug! I’ll see you when you’re much older. I know much more about you and God than you do now. Your determination to love God and love others gets you through this. I promise. Keep on keeping on! You already know what scripture says about almost everything, even preaching the main Sunday sermon as a youth pastor. You’re sure God loves everyone else, even when you aren’t sure God loves all of you!

You kissed a girl. She kissed you back, but in your heart, you know it’s wrong. You want to one day be a dad, but realize honest dating, marriage, pastoring, and parenting seem impossible for a Baptist guy.

I’m sorry how tough it’s been living without a mother who died unexpectedly. Could she have been the one person to tell? A terrible secret is tough to bear. I’m sorry you can’t be honest with anyone but God.

Not even your twin brother knows. You two were born on the same day, ‘born again’ on the same day, and even baptized together on the same day.

Ironically, you’re bullied, teased, and even assaulted by people who call you gay when you can’t admit even to yourself that you might be! As you read everything you can get your hands on, asking God to change you, it makes you wince. Deep down, you love you, but that’s hard to believe. I’m sorry you were told what might be the absolute best part of who you are is evil. You’ve even considered taking an easy way out to avoid all this pain. It’s tougher than anyone knows. But you’re admirably resilient.

Hang in there, not just for the people who need and love you, but for that future Doug who admires you for not giving up.

JP Davis

Dear JP in Seventh Grade,

Hey. I’m you when you’re 39. I’ve learned and grown a lot since seventh grade and have something to say.

I understand why you’re staying in the closet. I’m sorry. I’m sorry your parents live in fear and swim with insecurities. I’m sorry you’re surrounded by a world of people who don’t accept you as yourself. I’m sorry you’re taught you’re going to hell and are a sinner. No matter when you choose to come out, it’s going to be tough, I’m not going to lie. It will not go well with the parents and some of your friends. It will change your mom forever; it will never be the same between you two. So take the time you need. Soak up all the quality time you need with your mom before finally telling the truth.

All the girls that say you’re gay love you and wish you were straight so they can have you. They will be lifelong friends.

I’m sorry for a few of the guys who bully you. Stay strong. They do eventually come around and apologize. The world is a prominent place; unfortunately, your world right now is small. You’re all being taught the same bullshit, but as you all grow older, travel, learn, and expose yourself to others, you see the world more clearly. I’m sorry it sucks for you now.

I’m sorry you can’t experience dating, love, and sex generally as a young person. I’m sorry you can’t flirt. I’m sorry you can’t hold hands or show affection with a boy. I’m sorry you can’t take your guy crush to dances. I’m sorry you can’t be yourself. I’m sorry adults teach that something is wrong with you. Stay strong. By being yourself and staying strong, you’ll find out that things work out for you. People respect and love you.

I’ve learned that many adults live in fear and insecurity. Many adults don’t know how to think and speak for themselves. Many adults are victims and tools of power and control. You’re a strong spirit, just like Mom. Never change.

It won’t be easy. At least at 39 years old, you’ll never understand some aspects of the world or humans. Still today, I walk around most days feeling like I live in a parallel universe. I don’t understand humanity sometimes—many folks are not living their truth.

Keep having empathy. Keep seeking understanding. Keep loving.

Trust yourself, your values, and your soul. It’s going to be OK, and one day, you’ll have the opportunity to change hearts and minds—maybe even save a life.

I’m sorry you can’t be you right now. Hang in there; you’ve got many people who will need and love you. You will make a big difference in our world one day.

Love, JP.

#stopthehate

Erica Oliver

Hi Young Erica,

It’s me, your older self. I just wanted to tell you to keep being open about yourself. Eventually, people will start to come around. Not everyone will, and it will be extremely tough. But eventually, you will get to a place where you are finally comfortable with your body and mind.

The best part is that you will have friends who make you their family. They will love you for who you are, and you will love them in return.

Life is hard but good. If you want the freedom to be who you are, it’s up to you to make it happen. There are others like you. Be visible and a good example so others feel safe and themselves.

These letters from LGBTQ community members to their younger selves are filled with hope, love, and wisdom. They serve as a testament to the resilience and strength it takes to live authentically in a world that often pushes conformity. Each letter is a powerful reminder of the importance of self-acceptance and the value of finding one’s community.