The Age of Rage
By Josh Beaudoin
“For the Lord will not cast off forever. Though he causes grief, Yet He will show compassion According to the multitude of His mercies. For He does not afflict willingly, Nor grieve the children of men”
Read part 1 here
Read part 2 here
In part two I talked about a conversation I had that completely changed my perspective on the Biblical view of being gay.
During the events I describe in that part, it was nearly impossible to see God at the time. It wouldn’t be until later that I would start to understand that while I might have had a timeline for how things should go, God had a purpose, and it wasn’t going to wait for me to feel comfortable or safe.
The more I continued to pray and study the topic, the more certain I became of my position, and I soon concluded that it was only a matter of time before I told my parents. I had no idea when, but I knew it would happen.
As the weeks passed, I started thinking more and more about coming out to my parents. I would pace my dorm room rehearsing how our conversation might go, trying to predict how they would react, as well as when, where, and how I would initiate the conversation. All of this was on my mind as I was still mentally processing my February 8th conversation.
There were a couple of times when I thought my mom might have hinted that she suspected I was gay or bisexual. I was wrong, but those “hints” contributed to me thinking about coming out to her and my dad.
I had no idea how they would respond. My emotional side hoped it would be positive, but my rational side knew it would be negative.
On the nights of March 10 and 11, 2021, I was seriously considering coming out to my parents the next day. As I was lying in bed trying to sleep, my head was racing with every scenario possible.
I pulled out my phone and started to google what it is like coming out in a conservative household. After stumbling across a couple of articles advising parents to treat their child as if they were no longer part of the family, I decided it would be best to wait. But God had other plans.
As the night dragged on, I continued to google different articles, looking for hope somewhere, but I didn’t find any. Exhausted from my search, but still unable to sleep, I decided to pray, so I knelt beside my bed and gave the situation to God.
At 4 a.m., I figured I wasn’t going to get to sleep, and that this was going to be my first all-nighter. I was pretty proud of myself, seeing as I had spent a good portion of it in prayer and Bible study, instead of wasting it scrolling through Instagram.
In my sleep-deprived mind, it was kind of like a badge of honor. I was happy, so I decided to text my mom, gloating. What an idiot.
4:02 a.m.: I said, “I’ve concluded that it looks like this will be my first all-nighter, and no better reason for it than to spend it in prayer and Bible study.”
4:54 a.m.: Mom said, “Why is that?”
I knew that what had really kept me up was thinking about coming out to her and my dad, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that. From there, the conversation became a game of cat and mouse. I could tell she was trying to get at the deeper reason, and I kept blowing her off (in a respectful way), and I thought I was doing a good job.
After going back and forth several times, she sent the fateful text.
5:11 a.m.: Mom said, “So it doesn’t have to do with your sexual orientation?”
This was, without hyperbole, my worst nightmare. I had thought about my coming out going badly, but I had scarcely dared to imagine having the information pried out of me.
As I write this article and reread our conversation, it still makes me sweat with nervousness, even though it’s been over a year since it happened.
Since I was journaling, it took me a couple minutes to respond and get my bearings about what she had just said. I was in shock, and I started laughing involuntarily, not knowing what to do or how to process it.
After that, I suggested we video chat instead of texting, and at 5:30 a.m. I made my way out to my car where I could talk privately away from my roommate.
The conversation went horribly. I couldn’t stop shaking, and both my parents had a negative reaction.
We talked for about 40 minutes. Then, still in a daze, I went back to my dorm room to try and eat something, then went on a walk, and finally started to make my way over to Bowers Hall for my 8 a.m. class.
Later that day I wrote in my journal:
“I felt a lot of rage, but it was interesting because it was very compartmentalized. One second I could be sitting in class, the next I was sending an angry text to my mom, and the next I was smiling at my professor. I think something that helped was that my lack of sleep dulled my emotions to a manageable level” 
The emotion that pervaded my being was anger. It was pure and energizing. I was furious that my mom thought she had any right to pry such personal information from me. I didn’t get to come out to her and my dad because she felt obliged to shove me out of the closet before I was ready, and that sin would be hard to forgive.
Over the coming weeks, my parents and I would have many conversations, many of which comprised of me yelling at my mom. This was an age of rage, and during the first couple of weeks after the conversation, I lost a little bit of weight because I was so stressed I could barely eat.
It wouldn’t be till about four months later that I was able to forgive my mom for what she had done and apologize for my own harshness.
- Journal entry from 3/11/2021.
Hello everyone, I’m Josh Beaudoin, the editor-in-chief of The Collegian. I’m from central Alberta, Canada, and first started at The Collegian in 2019 as the writer of the food column. I love to spend time outdoors and regularly hike in places like Mount Rainier National Park and Banff National Park. I also do quite a bit of reading about social and political topics.