I remember the first time someone told me, "it's okay to be gay." I was 27 years old and had just successfully avoided yet another episode of Pitch on Fox—a show I wanted to watch, but didn’t—because I was *very* attracted to one of the female actors and I didn't want to "cause myself to stumble." (Gotta "flee from sin," ya know).

That night, my homegirl told me, "Kim. You're gay. And that's okay. You don't have to fight it anymore. It's okay to be gay."

I wish I could tell you that was my reckoning. That in that powerful moment, I wiped my tears, grabbed my rainbow cape out my closet, turned on Pitch, and set up a super gay dating profile.

But I didn't. Instead, I changed the topic, ended the conversation, and while staring at my blank TV, wondered what to do about the fact that The Devil™️ found a way to communicate with me through one of my friends.

After years of exchanging my truth for someone else's lie, I couldn't begin to imagine what a reconciled life looked like. Instead of believing it was "for freedom that Christ has set us free," I held on to the belief that my sexuality would forever be the thorn in my flesh, a constant reminder of my need for God's saving grace.

While that conversation didn't set me free, it did set me on the path to freedom. I spent years after that re-reading the Bible with fresh eyes. Studying queer, womanist, and liberation theologies. Talking to pastors, my therapist, seminary friends, and most importantly, God. I developed a fuller, more authentic faith — one in which I no longer fear hell™️, condemnation, or my true self.

This is the freedom I operate from. Though it was not given at birth, it is nevertheless my birthright. My mission on this earth is to set people free from outdated ways of being that center conformity over freedom.