For the past year and a half, I have been diving back into the world of spirituality. I grew up Catholic and then in and out of Protestant churches, so my most logical place to begin was Christianity. I googled “English-speaking church CDMX” and found one with an international congregation. Lovely people, very familiar worship and service vibes.

Alongside church, I’ve thrown myself into reading. First many, many books about theology. Conservative, progressive, the works. I’m also currently 144 days into reading the Bible in a year with a group of lovely ladies. I want to know the scripture inside and out, to get different perspectives and really understand what the church teaches before committing to anything.

However, I couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. When attending church, I found myself omitting stories about my family or my life, for fear of how people would react to my very queer experiences. When I was younger I was unapologetically out at church and it got me in trouble more than once. I wasn’t allowed to lead youth small groups and I was definitely deemed one of the troublemakers. For some reason, suggesting Jesus loves everyone was a wild concept to those people.

After my 10 year break from christianity, something in me had shifted. I was so much more cautious, less outspoken about my inclusive beliefs. It was stifling. Part of me was too tired to keep defending myself; the other part being smothered by secrecy. Since I have a boyfriend, it was easy to slot into the heteronormative ways without question and I tried my best to go with the status quo. People call this “bi privilege” but honestly, being invisible doesn’t feel like much of a win.

I began to fear that people might think I believed what they did; that being gay is a sin and you can’t be a gay christian. I wanted to out myself but I didn’t feel safe to do so. Then I mentioned my queer family and the first response I got was how important it is to have nuclear family and two straight parents (mum and dad) to have a healthy upbringing.

It was heartbreaking, though not surprising.

That conversation turned over and over in my mind for months. I had to see the guy who said those words to me weekly at church, to say “hi” like nothing was wrong because I didn’t want to rock the boat. I didn’t feel safe anymore. I tried to push through it, make other friends, get involved in other aspects of the church, but in the end, his comments ate away at me.

I decided to start looking for somewhere I could really be myself without being judged. I had looked for a LGBTQ+ church a few years back, but I was afraid to attend because it was in Spanish and I didn’t feel like my language skills were strong enough. Three years later and I decided to give that church a go. I wasn’t really sure what to expect and I had never been to an inclusive church before, let alone where everything would be in Spanish.

It was a simple room with about 15 chairs, a 40″ TV screen on a stand, a small lectern and a guy at the back with a laptop working the slides. There were rainbows on the walls and a huge quote from Galatians hanging at the front of the room:

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

– Galatians 3: 28-29

I took a free seat on the second row and looked around the room. The music started and familiar worship music with foreign lyrics blasted out from a YouTube video. I tried to join in. I couldn’t stop my gaze wandering around the room of people all praising Jesus – queer couples, gay men, trans people, lesbians and even (I discovered later on) some straight people. Rainbow flags were being waved and a woman danced at the front with sparkly tassels. It was honestly one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

I spent the first three songs holding back tears, and then they played “How Great is Our God” (again, in Spanish) and I broke down. I was standing in a room of people I had never met and I was sobbing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so moved by worship. Something in me was freed that morning – all the exclusion, generational and personal trauma, the hiding, the feeling like I would never be enough. It all started to tumble out.

I don’t know what I believe about Christianity yet. I am still working on that (lots of reading, lots of YouTube videos, lots of Bible study). But my experience in this church has definitely opened the doors to something new inside me. Maybe you can be a christian and be gay? It was something I always affirmed for other people but never really internalised for myself. Reading books on inclusive theology and attending lectures at university don’t hold a candle to seeing it in practice. I’m looking forward to seeing where this new adventure takes me.