Scegliti la famiglia di cui sentirti parte

Testimony of David B. Adams, published in Unity.org (United States) on July 1, 2025. Freely translated by the volunteers of the Gionata project.

The word family evokes in each of us very different images. It can bring to mind the warmth of the Christmas morning around the tree, or a table full of food and voices during the day of celebration. He can make us remember holidays, picnics, happy moments that make us feel lucky to have those close to us.

But this full word can also awaken painful memories. The sudden loss of a parent or brother. The wounds left by words spoken years earlier.

Or, as happens to many LGBTQIA+people, the refusal or removal by their family.

Our family of origin is the first place where we learn how the world works. In that small universe we begin to speak, to walk, to enter into relationship with others. Having no other references, we assume that those first experiences are true, right, unquestionable.

Then we grow, and we begin to understand that every action has consequences. Some lessons are simple: touches a hot pot, you burn yourself. Others are more complex: break a glass, you are punished for the damage but also praised for having told the truth.

As our world widens and new people enter our life, we discover different ways of seeing things, of entering into relationship, and understand that not everyone will love us or accept us.

But even if life offers us new perspectives, we tend to remain anchored to what we have learned as children. And when do we realize that those truths are perhaps false? Who can we turn to when the place we call home becomes hostile, or even dangerous?

Behind the facade of perfection

I wish I could say that my family has transmitted me values such as empathy, mutual respect, unconditional love, welcome. I wish I could say I grew up learning patience and compassion. If you are reading you have received this type of education, I hope you feel blessed. But if it was not like that, then perhaps some parts of this story will touch you closely.

I am what in jargon is defined as a pk, a preacher's kid, I am the son of an evangelical shepherd of the assemblies of God. I was the youngest of four brothers. In public we had to be perfect: educated, smiling, always well dressed, never out of place. But at home the reality was very different.

To put it sweetly, my father did not put what he preached. My mother felt compelled to protect her image, hiding her shortcomings from everyone.

The message I received was clear: hide, pretend, avoid, angry or run away. This was how the world was working in the Adams house.

At the age of eight I began to hear a profound contradiction between what was taught us at Sunday school and what I lived at home.

I was very close to my father, despite everything. But then he left with another woman. The Church helped us move to Texas, only my mother and me, the last son left at home. And all I knew, every certainty of mine, shattered.

During adolescence, the fear of abandonment and solitude was more acute, especially when I started to understand I was homosexual. I still remember the voice of my preacher who said: "God can forgive a killer, but not a homosexual."

Taken by terror of hell, I tried to "pray not to be gay". The refusal by my Church seemed inevitable to me.

In the summer of 1987, during the university break, I discovered that my brother Jim was also homosexual. We both had the accounts, in a different way, with our faith.

I had decided to get away from God. Jim instead not. He could not. And it was precisely this inner conflict that, in 1989, led him to commit suicide. He had fought too long. And at that moment, my terror of being rejected by God and any spiritual community materialized completely.

A new family to build

Yet, in the middle of all this darkness, something beautiful began to sprout. It was not a sudden event, but a slow process that developed over the years. it Wasn't even a conscious choice: it happened.

My chosen family, initially a heterogeneous group of friends met at different times in my life, began to see me really. With them I could make mistakes, grow, learn, change, without being judged. I learned to trust me enough to tell my fears, my wounds, my shame.

And those words brought freedom, relief, healing. There, among them, the refusal was no longer afraid. My old defenses were welcomed with love (and Sometimes with an affectionate push in the right direction). i Also learned to recognize those who deserved my trust.

My chosen family was born like this: from trust.

Today it is a constantly expanding network. A community of people with whom I share every part of me: emotions, faith, thoughts. There is no single way to build a chosen family. Sometimes it happens by participating in events or joining realities that reflect what we are.

Other times it happens spontaneously, through common experiences. Sometimes it also includes some member of the family of origin. If you are like me, maybe it's something that has always existed along the way, just waiting for you to be ready to welcome it.

Whatever way I am born, know that your chosen family is a gift. A place where you can create new memories. A place where you can heal the wounds of the past, abandon old convictions, and finally feel lucky to have those who really love you next to you.

*David B. Adams is pastor at Unity of Independent, Missouri (United States). He deals with inclusive spirituality and has shared his story within the showcasing series LGBTQIA+ Voices curated by Unity.

Original text: CHOSEN FAMILY