Do it. Just say something. No, don’t. Don’t stare. Side-hug and leave. No. Ask for her number. Why are you panicking? She’s just a girl.

A girl who changed everything I knew about myself as a woman, human being, and performer. Each song I write is a time capsule for how deeply I’ve explored my story to that point. My lyrics and melodies before I met her feel light-years away because of her profound effect on me. My new single “When It’s Right” is the first painting of a vivid new world I now call home, and she’s the main inspiration. So who is she?

View more

My friend invited me to a trial dance workshop experimenting with floor work and learning to utilize the ground in freestyle and choreography. I was running late and tiptoed to the back as everyone drilled the first move. I skimmed the room to find the instructor.

There she was, wearing loose jeans and a backward snapback. She flipped and rolled her body around with adventure and total abandon. As a Type A perfectionist, I was mesmerized and intimidated.

"I saw you color the air around you. You heard the music a different way."

After I dizzied myself from doing knee spins, she walked toward me to correct my form. My heart raced wildly and my body grew hot. Was I nervous to fail in front of an expert? Was I breathing heavily from being out of shape? Her smile was the most electrifying thing I’d ever seen.

I left the workshop and texted my mother and best friend, saying, “I met a woman today, I’m not sure who she is or what I’m feeling, but I think she’s going to be in my life for a very long time.” I stayed in touch with her casually, if casually means texting most days for hours at a time. Our banter was natural, and we had a huge crossover of interests and passions, yet wildly different upbringings and beliefs. The question of whether she was a cool new friend or more kept me awake in wonderment and dread. I tried to be patient and stifle the emotions so I could think objectively. Our bond didn't feel quite sisterly or platonic. Flashes of her smile progressed to flashes of her wavy hair followed by the curve of her hips through her straight-leg pants. I realized I had never fantasized about a guy this way, nor really ever felt comfortable dating guys. Come to think of it, I stared at women’s bodies more than anything. But wasn’t that just societal conditioning or the unattainable beauty standards that fuel comparison and objectification? I refused to entertain other possibilities.

She and I continued to hang out and began sending good morning texts. Then we made dinner and watched Orange Is the New Black. Then we vented and supported each other. Then cuddled. Then kissed and kissed some more. OK, we were in a relationship. I fell in love with a woman.

Photo: Lauren Dunn

Cut to therapy. I spent years — not months or weeks or days, but years — trying to identify the source of my attraction to her. Like many, I had internalized some of the harmful beliefs and misconceptions about LGBTQ people and identities. At the time, I thought, Maybe it’s because I moved away from my father as a child and didn’t have typical male guidance in my life. Maybe it’s because I’ve experienced abuse from men and therefore I’m scared of intimacy with them (and in general). Maybe it’s because open sexuality is prevalent in my artistic community and I subconsciously just want to fit in. Maybe I actually want to be her, and I’m mistaking idolization for romance. Anything besides being gay, please!

My faith at that time played a large role in every aspect of my life, and my worldview neither supported nor accepted same-sex relationships. I prayed in turmoil nightly, begging to be healed from these desires. Certain pastors and community members tried to reverse and eliminate my attraction to her. I pursued physical relationships with men to convince myself that my love for her was just a spiritual battle attacking my character and discernment. I pored over texts, contemporary and ancient, seeking truth and answers from professors, scientists, church leaders, friends, and family. I didn’t want to get this wrong. After all, not only was I trying to be a “good and upright” person, but I’m also a public figure with responsibility and extreme pressure.

"A new kind of sacred. Whatever you say, I'll follow."

Some people in the industry warned me that I’d ruin my career, miss out on possible jobs, and potentially put my life in danger if I ever came out. My dream and all I’d worked tirelessly for since the age of 6 was suddenly at risk by my being . . . true to myself. Imagine receiving death threats (as I have); would you choose to live a lie in order to protect your loved ones? What if your partner felt like you were hiding them and it created stress and tension because you couldn’t be open outside of your home? I feel so much sorrow for the hurt I caused her and others during this scary and confusing season. She stuck it out as new problems continually emerged: identity, faith, career, you name it.

For every ounce of hurt I faced, she offered a sea of love and gratitude. I paid attention to how our connection shaped me. In its purest sense, I felt awakened, more compassionate, and like my truest self. She strengthened and inspired me, creating a space for me to discover myself without judgment. She forgave my wrongs and suffered alongside me as I questioned everything, including her. She cared about my inner world more than its superficiality. We were an example of true love. Yet, we wouldn’t be able to survive forever. Something had to give.

I’ll never forget the night I finally collapsed on my bed with tear-stained cheeks, saying, “God, if I’m evil, then I accept this and give up. I’ve believed you are loving, but I don’t want to live a lie. If by being honest I get banished to hell, so be it. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.” Right then I expected absolute emptiness, the height of despair and the lowest point in my life. I instead felt an inexplicable embrace. Slowly, a curiosity set in, as if giving up might actually be the impetus needed to see life, God, love, humanity, and (literally) everything in a new way. I’m not talking about believing whatever I felt like; rather, I felt a transformation, an ascension, an approach to life rooted in real love.

"Gave up my cold world to keep you warmer. Now my life is naked. Is it worth the pain that it costs?"

The most important takeaway here is not my exact ideology. That’s a much broader conversation that requires a whole lot of time, education, and dialogue (and does any one person have all the answers?). I’m very sensitive to the incredibly diverse range of opinions within religious and secular communities, and honestly, I’d appreciate if we focused first on the experiences and dignity of the people. I’m asking for you to feel what I feel on a human level, to appreciate the beauty of someone diving into the unknown in pursuit of love and truth. I’m asking you to accept me as I accept myself.

I, Alyson, am attracted to men, women, and people who identify in other ways. I can love people of every gender identity and expression. It is the soul that captivates me. It is the love we can build and the goodness we can contribute to the world by supporting each other’s best journeys.

For all the challenges I’ve faced in my path to self-acceptance, I’ve also traveled it with my own set of luck and privilege. I’ve learned a novel’s worth already, and I’ve shed several layers of prejudice and closed-mindedness. I now understand why it serves no good to use shame and fear to control and suppress people. I now know what it’s like to have groups of people force you into silence and cut you off from a community and opportunities. I’ve sat alone in many crowds, beaten myself up, and questioned whether life was worth living. I don’t wish these dark moments on anyone, but I know it’s happening everywhere.

If you’re questioning or struggling with your sexuality, gender identity, or anything else, know that I and so many who’ve gone before us are with you. Whatever your identity, you are lovable and wonderful and enough. I’m on the other side of some of these battles internally, but it’s still a challenge in the outside world. It’s OK. Dare to be yourself anyway. Find support, because we’re out there! And when you fall in love with anyone, you’ll know exactly what I felt for her. As “When It’s Right” describes, it’s right when it’s right — and who it’s right with. She messed up everything in the best way possible, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

With love, Alyson Stoner

Related: