April 14th, 2012 was the day that separated the life I had, from the life that was about to be. It was the day that defined everything. The day that determined that everyday that followed would be different from every day that came before.

The fear of coming out to my family was a weight on my chest that wouldn’t leave me alone–it followed me every second of the day and haunted me every minute of the night. I lived constantly with the anxiety that coming out as gay to my family–the family that was the epitome of perfection to the conservative Christian world–could potentially cost me everything; but I was not prepared for the fact that it actually would. With a father who’s been employed as an executive at Focus on the Family for over 30 years and a mother who stayed home to school and raise us, I knew this news would not be easy for me to share, nor easy for them to hear. 

Gathering my family in my home that day, I held notes in my lap as points of reference for when my nerves got the best of me. Giving it my all, I took them on the journey I had been walking over the past several years, until the moment finally came when I told them I knew I was gay. My words hung in the air, forming what I now know to be an unbridgeable gap between us. I’d never felt more vulnerable in my life than I did in those moments awaiting their response. Then, with anger in my dad’s eyes, he simply said, “I have nothing to say to you right now,” and he walked out the door. 

That door closing behind my family as they left that day felt like they were simultaneously closing the door on me, not only as their only daughter, but also as part of the family. As soon as they were out of sight, I collapsed into a puddle of devastation and tears. 

THE FIRST YEAR…was the hardest. It was the year I didn’t know if I’d survive. The next conversation I had with my family was one where they looked me in the eye and told me they felt like I had died and that given the choice, they would choose God over me. They compared me being gay to murder, pedophilia, and bestiality. They called me selfish and said they no longer trusted me to have open access to their home. The unconditional love my parents professed growing up suddenly had very clear conditions attached, and as I walked out the door, they asked for the keys to their house back. That was the day I became an orphan.

Suicide was a very real threat to me in the months that followed as harsh words, passive aggressive behavior, and ghosting confronted me from all sides. I lost almost everyone and everything: my parents, my only sibling, my relatives, most of my friends, my home church of fourteen years, and the only hometown I’d ever known. 

One tragedy took place after another that year ranging from loss, to critical illness, to death; it put a strain on me that, looking back, I still don’t know how I survived. I truly believe to this day that the affirming community I found in Denver, and my service dog, Half Pint, are what saved my life that year. When everyone else walked out, they stayed. And because of them, I’m alive today. 

THE SECOND YEAR was the year that love entered my life. I held in tandem a dynamic of losing everyone I’d ever loved and simultaneously gaining the unconditional love of someone who, for the first time, saw the real me. I rode a rollercoaster as the connection with my family became ever more strained, and yet I discovered joy and peace in my own skin unlike any I’d ever known. I fell in love, but couldn’t share that love with my very own family. By the end of this second year, I was engaged, and ready to share what should be some of the most exciting news of my life with the world, but rather than sharing that news with my family first, they ended up being among the last to know. It broke my heart in a way that words can’t explain. Yet somehow, the freedom I was finding to be myself kept me moving forward, as I slowly let go of the the love and acceptance my heart craved from my family. 

THE THIRD YEAR was the year I got married. It was the day I’d always dreamed of: the white dress, the first look, the first dance. People from my affirming faith community stepped up and stood in where my family should have been, filling the gap and making the obvious emptiness bearable. It’s a day that was everything I’d always dreamed it to be…almost. And yet the ache of what my family missed that day still stays with me, knowing we can never go back. It’s too late. They missed one of the happiest days of my life. Just three months after my wedding, my family cut me off completely. Their hope for “change” had waned and they gave up on our relationship. We haven’t spoken since. 

THE FOURTH YEAR was the year that we bought our first home. With the help of friends, we moved into a house and made it our own. We struggled with emptiness that comes with not having family support, especially around the holidays, and fought to bring some of the traditions of our past into our present, and to let others go in place of creating our own. It was a year of shifting, of growth, and of beginning to establish our own family, even without the love of our biological families. Together, we held onto love and let that fill our life.

THE FIFTH YEAR was the year I wrote Refocusing My Family and began sharing my story with the world. Following what was clearly the voice of God through one of my friends, I was told that “Embedded in my identity, was a responsibility to be a voice for change.” I knew God was calling me. It was a hard and taxing book to write, but so rewarding. That year was the launch of what has now become my life’s work: writing, speaking, and using my story to help others with theirs. 

THE SIXTH YEAR was a year of continuing to grieve for the loss of what could or should have been with my family, while also finding strength and grounding in the family my wife and I were creating together. It was a year of letting go, a year of building up, and a year of finding strength in each other when things were tough. As I traveled and spoke across the country, I heard hundreds of stories that were far too similar to mine and because of it, soon published a second book (Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians) in order to provide the very first resource for LGBTQ people of faith to navigate the complications of internalized homophobia, coming out, setting healthy boundaries, grieving rejection and loss, and embracing who God created them to be to the fullest. 

THE SEVENTH YEAR…this year…is the year that I strive to embrace healing and wholeness to its full capacity. It’s the year that I seek to pour life into others, and be filled with life myself. Amidst all the pain and loss I’ve experience over the past seven years, I can honestly say I wouldn’t go back or trade what I have now for the world.

I came alive the day I came out, and my family has missed the happiest years of my life.

I now get the privilege of doing deeply meaningful work by helping other LGBTQ people of faith find their own purpose and self-acceptance. I get to live my life free of shame, guilt, and condemnation and instead know that there is a God bigger than my box that loves me completely and unconditionally. And I get to share a love with my wife which only continues to draw me closer to the divine Spirit of God.

If you are an LGBTQ person of faith struggling to come out, know that there is love, acceptance, and peace waiting for you on the other side. You can love God and a person of the same-sex without any conflict in between. You can be LGBTQ and be at peace with the fact that God loves you fully and completely exactly as you are. For more helpful information, check out my Resources page. 

If you are a parent, pastor, or ally of an LGBTQ person, I urge you to see the damage that faulty religion has done to my family and make a different choice for yours. You don’t have to understand completely to love unconditionally. Be willing to learn, to grow, and to expand your understanding of God. You willingness to be stretched could save the life of the ones you love.

I came out seven years ago today. I love my life and I’m not looking back. 

Amber Cantorna is a national speaker and the author of Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians and Refocusing My Family. You can learn more about her work and view her speaking schedule at AmberCantorna.com or follow her on social media @AmberNCantorna. To support the continuation of Amber’s work, visit: Amber’s Patreon Page.

As the recent United Methodist Church’s decision to tighten their restrictions on ordaining LGBTQ clergy and performing same-sex marriage demonstrates, being LGBTQ and Christian can be difficult and unwelcoming. But there is hope and there are affirming faith communities who embrace Christians of all kinds.

Author and LGBTQ advocate Amber Cantorna (Refocusing My Family: Coming Out, Being Cast Out, and Discovering the True Love of God) empathizes with the feelings of loss, depression, and despair that LGBTQ Christians are feeling. As the gay daughter of a thirty-year-plus Focus on the Family executive, Cantorna was cast out of her family and her church when she came out. However, Cantorna found acceptance and healing through her faith and by finding an affirming community to support her during her coming-out journey. Now as part of her work dedicated to reconnecting LGBTQ Christians with their faith, Cantorna has published, Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians.

This practical and rich guide is invaluable for LGBTQ Christians as they consider coming out, and it is a precious tool for the allies who walk alongside them. Cantorna shares the wisdom she’s gained and teaches others about demolishing their internalized homophobia or transphobia, finding or building an affirming faith community, preparing to come out and coming out to loved ones, setting healthy boundaries, and coping with conditional love.

“LGBTQ Christians are desperate for guidance on how to navigate the unexpected journey of coming out,” Cantorna says. “They’ve been backed into a corner by religion, taught to be ashamed of who they are, and have lived in fear of being abandoned by both God and those they love if the truth about their identity leaks out. They want to live authentically, but they lack the needed resources to guide them.”

Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide to LGBTQ Christians is now available from Westminster John Knox Press and other major retailers.

Amber Cantorna is a national speaker, a columnist for Patheos, and the author of Refocusing My Family: Coming Out, Being Cast Out, and Discovering the True Love of God. As a leader dedicated to supporting LGBTQ people throughout their coming-out process, Cantorna uses her platform to inspire others and works to dissolve shame, foster self-acceptance, and generate a message of love and inclusion for all.

-Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, KY (March 12th, 2019)

Check out Amber’s Tour Schedule Here

Advanced Praise for Unashamed

“Unashamed is a step-by-step guide to liberation, a manual for answering that holy call to stand in our own God-given skin and be exactly who we are.”
—Linda Kay Klein, author of PURE: Inside the Evangelical Movement That Shamed a Generation of Young Women and How I Broke Free

“Amber speaks with the wisdom of someone who has lived through the kind of shame only evangelicalism can impart. For those with the courage to let the world know who they are, Unashamed will guide you, lovingly and
competently, one step at a time.”
—Paula Stone Williams, Pastor, TED speaker, LGBTQ advocate

“Unashamed is the book I wish my child would have had when he came out. With practicality, compassion, and wisdom that comes from personal experience, Amber Cantorna broaches coming out in a way that no other
book has done.”
—Sara Cunningham, founder of Free Mom Hugs and author of How We Sleep at Night: A Mother’s Memoir

“Amber Cantorna beautifully radiates God’s love and hope for all God’s children as she masterfully weaves together helpful action steps and stories that are both informative and empowering. Unashamed is filled with golden nuggets of hope, healing, and truth. . . A must-read for everyone!”
—Jane Clementi, cofounder and CEO of the Tyler Clementi Foundation

“As the gay, closeted son of a Southern Baptist pastor, I didn’t think I’d ever come out. It was too scary. . . . I had no guidance, no resources, and very little confidence. I felt like the only person in the world who’d gone through this. Thanks to Amber Cantorna, no closeted Christian LGBTQ person should ever have to feel that way again.”
—B. T. Harman, creator of the blog and podcast Blue Babies Pink

“This is Amber Cantorna at her best! She takes the nitty-gritty experiences that every LGBTQ person of faith experiences and breaks them down in an incredibly accessible way. . . . Reading it feels like having a personal coach on all things LGBTQ and Christian. It’s just so good!”
—Candice Czubernat, founder and therapist at the Christian Closet

“Unashamed is a heartfelt, supportive resource for LGBTQ Christians finding their place in the church and in the world. I’m so glad Amber Cantorna created such a vital and important work.”
-Mike McHargue, host of Ask Science Mike and author of Finding God in the Waves

Hello Friends,

I am so excited to write today and let you know that my newest book, Unashamed: A Coming-Out Guide for LGBTQ Christians is out of the closet and now on the shelves of your nearby bookstores…or your next Amazon order. 

I know that my blogging and updates have been sporadic and that is primarily because A) I’m only one person doing the job of many people, and B) I’m realizing (and learning to accept) that weekly blogging just isn’t my thing, and that’s okay. Plus, I’m also trying to get to the bottom of some additional health challenges that I’ve been facing,  but that’s another story for another time. 

For today, with the release of this new book, there are THREE important things I want you to know…

1. Unashamed is now available on Amazon. Pick up a copy for yourself, or a loved one. The great thing about it is that this resource is super helpful for LGBTQ people and allies alike! So whether you’re a loved one, a parent, a pastor, a therapist, or just someone wanting to know what it is like to walk in the shoes of an LGBTQ person of faith, this book is for you!

This is one of the first 10 reviews that came through on Amazon this morning.

You can order your copy HERE.

2. With the book launch we’ve also announced The Unashamed Tour dates today! Tickets are now live and can be purchased via Eventbrite. To view a full list, visit: AmberCantorna.com/events. More cities and dates are coming soon!

3. I had the opportunity to interview with about a dozen podcasts over the last two weeks. Queerology is one that is near and dear to my heart and just released today. You can listen to my conversation with Matthias Roberts HERE. 

Thank you for all you’ve done to support me and this project. Anything you can do to help spread the word about this book, the tour events, and my work is SO appreciated. 

Remember…you are loved, so live unashamed.

Amber Cantorna

And yet, it seems like yesterday. I can still see so clearly the stoic look that was on their faces when my parents and younger brother arrived to my house, barely making eye contact as they came in the door. It was as if they knew something was up.

I can still sense the tension in the room that grew with every word I spoke about my journey of reconciling my faith and my sexuality.

I can still hear the deafening silence that hung in the air once the words “I am gay” finally left my mouth. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever felt in my life.

And I can still feel the pain that struck my heart with a knife when my dad looked at me with anger in his eyes and said, “I have nothing to say to you right now,” and walked out the door.

That screen door slamming behind them as my mom and brother followed suit was the sound of rejection. It broke my heart into pieces and I collapsed onto the floor. I so desperately longed for love–for an attempt at understanding. But there was none. Our relationship had never felt so drained of compassion or void of connection in my life.

My family was the family that was always there for one another. Hardly a day went by without talking to my mom on the phone. Living within close proximity made it easy to stop by for a cup of tea or family dinner. My dad started working at Focus on the Family when I was three years old, so our home was steeped in family values, godly parenting, and meaningful tradition for as far back as I can remember. Homeschooled K-12, my mom was a stay-at-home mom and housewife, as my dad went off to do the meaningful work of strengthening families.

I never dreamed that my dad’s position at Focus would tear me away from those I loved the most–but that’s what happened. The news of my sexual orientation tore apart the very fabric that wove us together and none of us were ever the same.

In the following weeks my parents compared me to murderers, pedophiles, and bestiality. They said I was selfish for doing this to the family and only considering what made me happy. They said they’d rather I turned my back on God completely, than pretend everything between me and God was okay.

And then they asked for the keys to their house back. And my world fell apart even more.

In the months following, we tried to find some common ground, but it never worked. I tried to maintain as consistent as I could to prove that I was still the same daughter they’d always known. I wanted their approval and I desperately needed to know that I still belonged. But as time went on, they pushed me further and further to the fringes–sometimes with their words, and other times with passive aggressive behavior. In time, I knew that I was no longer welcome as part of the family.

In the years that followed, I fell in love, got engaged, and married the love of my life. My wife and I will celebrate four years of marriage this June. We bought our first house, I published Refocusing My Family, and I founded a non-profit called Beyond to help other LGBTQ people of faith navigate their coming out process.

My dad still works at Focus on the Family to this day. And what I discovered was that their love, when tested, came with strings attached. In the end, their need to uphold their reputation and their desire to maintain appearances won out over their love for their own daughter. We haven’t spoken in almost four years. Completely cut off from both immediate and extended family, being authentic came at an extremely high cost.

And yet…it just keeps getting better.

Looking back over the last six years, I now know that coming out was absolutely the best decision I could have ever made. Being true to myself saved my life; it strengthened my faith, it gave me an authentic community where I could thrive, and it launched me into the ministry that I somehow always knew God had waiting for me.

In those days leading up to the most terrifying day of my life, I could only dream of the things I have now. Even though I had to let go of almost everything I’d ever known to gain it, I discovered a level of true and authentic joy I never knew existed. I’ve become more light, more free, and more happy than I ever was during my years of wrestling in the dark.

These past six years have been the best years of my life.

Yes, they have been laced with great sorrow and deep pain–experiences and hurtful words that I will never be able to forget. But the freedom of being who God has made you to be in its fullest form has made me feel more alive than I ever knew was possible.

In years past, my Coming Out Anniversary has been a day of solemn remembrance of what’s been lost and the price I paid for being true to myself. But this year, it is a day I celebrate because six years later (with some time and space in the rear view mirror), I see how valuable the journey has been.

If you are wrestling in the midst of that coming out process and still wondering if all this is ever going to be worth it one day, let me tell you my friends: it just keeps getting better.

Because Love STILL Makes All the Difference,

Amber Cantorna

*You can read more about Amber’s journey in her memoir, Refocusing My Family, available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. If you are in the process of navigating your own coming out process, you can find resources at Amber’s website and keep an eye out for Amber’s second book coming Spring 2019 which will provide helpful tools to guide you along this journey.

You can read my story by clicking here: Refocusing My Family.

Please consider partnering with us as we launch our new non-profit for LGBT people of faith, called Beyond. For more information, click this link: Beyond Campaign Launch.

It wasn’t until I was in my 20’s that I realized I was gay. That instantly separated me from the conservative, fundamental, Christian upbringing I’d been a part of. I was suddenly “less than” in their eyes. I quickly found out what it was like to live as part of a marginalized group when I lost everything–literally everything (my family, relatives, friends, church, hometown)–to live as my authentic self.

The rejection and exclusion I experienced after coming out heightened my awareness of other ostracized groups that previously I’d been oblivious to. Muslims, refugees, people of color, transgender people, immigrants, those in poverty…these are the people who are most often forgotten, overlooked, and ignored.

My wife is a first generation immigrant, a person of color, a gay woman, a Christian, and she’s served in the army for over 20 years. She checks a lot of boxes on the minorities list. My relationship with her has further risen my awareness of privilege (or lack thereof) and talk of minority groups is now a frequent conversation in our home.

Then, three and a half years ago, I unexpectedly joined another minority group: the disabled. During a routine adjustment, I was injured by a chiropractor and it has forever altered my life. For 18 months, I got passed from doctor to doctor, I was misdiagnosed, I had multiple MRIs and CAT scans, and I was told my pain was psychosomatic. All the while, my mobility consistently decreased.

At first I noticed it in my workouts, then I started walking with a limp, then I struggled to make it up stairs, and eventually, I couldn’t even get myself out of bed. My muscles and ligaments completely gave out and could no longer support the weight of my body .

After much searching, we finally found a phenomenal osteopathic/sports medicine doctor  who knew exactly what was wrong and helped me execute a plan to recovery. Though it’s taken much longer than I ever expected, he’s faithfully walked that road with me now for 2 years. With a treatment called prolotherapy, we’ve slowly re-grown new ligaments in my body that have given me much of my autonomy back.

But it’s still not easy. I’m still in treatment every 8 weeks, which is a big improvement from every 2 weeks, but still puts me in bed on ice for 3-4 days after every round of injections. I’m still limited in what I can do, and I’ll never be 100% again. Much of my functionality has returned, but many things I’ve had to learn how to do differently.

My functionality (and the visibility of my pain) vacillate from day to day. Some days I walk fine without pain, other days I use a cane, but every day I struggle to sit for any length of time. That means everything I do now has to pass through a filter that asks, “Can my body handle this?” I now have to think everything through in a way I never had to before. It’s made me realize how much I took my health for granted.

While this hasn’t been a secret, I haven’t talked about it publicly before now, mostly because I hate feeling limited. I hate that some days I feel almost normal and other days I’m in a wheelchair. I hate asking for help. I hate admitting I can’t do something. I hate the word “disabled.”

I want to be normal. I want to be free and unlimited. I want to be able to do whatever I please. But I’ve learned that my body now has limits I must follow, and that’s been hard to accept.

All these things have led me to a greater appreciation for the abilities I do have, and even the baby steps I make towards progress. It’s also made me more aware of privilege–the things I take for granted because I can. The things I forget to be grateful for. And the people around me who struggle because they don’t have them.

This short, 4-minute video on privilege is a powerful representation of this. It makes me more cognizant every time I watch it.

The Privilege Walk

As we go about our week, let’s resolve to be more mindful of those around us who don’t have the same privileges that we do. Let’s work to not take our own for granted. Let’s challenge ourselves to think outside ourselves and make life a little better for just one person each day.

Let’s make eye contact.
Let’s smile.
Let’s say, “Hello.”
Let’s meet other people where they are, and truly love others the way Jesus did–and does–love us.

To subscribe to Amber’s weekly blog, visit her website at AmberCantorna.com. To follow Amber on Facebook, click here.

Focus on the Family Exec Had Own Daughter Thrown Out for Coming Out

If you missed the full podcast interview with Benjamin L. Corey and Matthew Paul Turner, you can click the link below to listen as well:

That God Show Podcast-Full Interview

Thanks to each of you who are helping to make my dream a reality by standing in the gap with me as we try to change the culture for LGBT Christians. Just a reminder that I am also booking speaking engagements for this calendar year. To book me for a conference, retreat, workshop, teen event, etc. please visit my Contact page where you can fill out a Booking Request Form and submit it to me via email.

Blessings to you all in the name of our wonderfully diverse God,

Amber

I am so honored to have been featured on Benjamin L. Corey’s blog this week and interviewed by him and Matthew Paul Turner for their most recent episode of That God Show. Read the article below:

Focus on the Family Exec Shuns Gay Daughter: She Breaks Her Silence

Or listen to the full interview by clicking this link:

Focus on the Family Exec Shuns Gay Daughter: She Breaks Her Silence-Full Interview