My name is Ali Anne, and this is the story of marrying the man I thought I’d spend my life with, building a family, and eventually realizing that love and truth sometimes lead you in a different direction. After nine years together, we understood that we couldn’t “pray away” his sexuality. This is how we chose to end our marriage while keeping our family intact, and how I learned to reconcile my Christian faith with being an LGBTQ ally.
Growing up, my dream was simple marry, have children, and create a warm home.In 2008, at the age of 20, I wed my closest friend, Kyle. Our early years were challenging, but we learned and grew side by side. We poured ourselves into church work, creating spaces where people felt welcomed and valued. Our house turned into a spot for friends, brimming with joy and companionship. Many admired our relationship and even told us it inspired them.
In 2013, we were prepared to expand our family. We selected seven names for our future kids.Our first child, Eva Li, was followed by a pregnancy with our son Simon, whom we lost but believe we’ll see again one day. Later, our son Nygel arrived, and parenting became our greatest joy. Life felt full, busy, and beautiful until late 2016, when an honest conversation changed everything.
I had known since before we married that Kyle experienced same-sex attraction. We had been taught by our evangelical upbringing that this was a sin, and that marriage to someone of the opposite sex was the “right” choice if you wanted a family. Kyle chose that path, and our friendship eventually blossomed into love and marriage.
But eight years in, Kyle began feeling the deep weight of not living authentically as a gay man. We loved each other and had always been faithful, but we couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. For months, we studied scripture, read books, and spoke to others in similar situations. Eventually, we concluded that being gay was not a sin and that God’s love was truly for everyone.
That understanding brought us to a crossroads: remain married and try to adapt, or set each other free. In February 2017, during a counseling session, we explored the idea of Kyle publicly coming out but staying in our marriage. At first, it sounded possible, but Kyle soon realized it would be living with one foot on each side of a line. He’s an “all or nothing” person, and this half-life would be unfair to both of us.
Then came the moment that changed everything. He stated, “I am a homosexual man, and I wish to be with a man. This isn’t just about sex it’s about love.” I knew then our marriage, as it had been, was over. Instead of anger, I felt a deep peace. I told him, “If that’s your truth, then that’s our answer.” He cried, apologizing over and over, but I assured him I knew he loved me. I wanted him to be free.
In my journal that day, I wrote about trusting God, even as my marriage ended, my life felt uncertain, and people misunderstood our choice. God was still good.
Two years later, our lives had transformed. We lost many friends and family members, but we also found authenticity and new strength. Kyle is my best friend, even if we aren’t romantic partners. Our children know they are deeply loved by both of us, and they are learning that love is not limited or exclusive.Our story is one of friendship, pain, courage, and liberation. Life doesn’t always match the picture you once imagined, but it can still be beautiful in your own unique shade.
