As a child and up until I left for college, I lived with my grandparents. My dad and stepmom have always been great parents, and they remained involved in my life. I just loved my grandma and wanted to live with her, so they let me. I grew up in Provo, Utah, in a religious family and a tight-knit community with strongly shared beliefs.

The first time I was confronted about my sexuality was in junior high. My grandma asked me point blank if I was “one of those lesbians.” The thought had never crossed my mind before, and I denied it outright. As it turns out, that comment is what caused me to think and realize that maybe I was gay, and that’s why I felt the way I did about certain things.

I ended up coming out as gay to some friends during my sophomore year of high school. Word started spreading, and I became nervous because I wasn’t ready for my family to know. When my family finally caught word, it was through the parent of a student in my aunt’s elementary class. The parent approached my aunt and said, “I heard about Alexis, and I’m so sorry for your family.” From there, people continued to tell my family members how sorry they were, which was incredibly hurtful. Instead of people telling me how sorry they were that I was feeling lost, confused, and alone, they were giving my family condolences because I had chosen to be who I truly was. People in my community were constantly telling my parents when they saw me with a girl, and it made me feel like there was something wrong with me.

When I first told my grandma I was gay, it was during my freshman year. She didn’t believe me then and denied it. I confronted her about it again during my sophomore year and stood my ground. After that conversation, she didn’t talk to me for months. She was my favorite person, and she wouldn’t even look at me. One day I asked her about it, saying, “It hurts when I say I love you and you don’t say it back. Why don’t you say you love me anymore?” She replied, “It’s because I don’t.” I knew she didn’t mean that when she said it, but I left crying. Later on the rest of my family shut me out as well, and we didn’t speak for months.

Originally, Utah Valley University wasn’t my first choice. I planned on receiving my associate degree here and then transferring to another school. But once I got here, I didn’t want to leave. I had found a community and a home. People were tolerating and accepting of me, and I could express myself however I wanted to and not be judged for it. Where my family was absent, I found new relationships and friendships that built my confidence.

In addition to being accepted for my lifestyle, I was encouraged academically. I didn’t do terribly in high school, but I never felt smart or good at anything. Art was my saving grace because I poured everything I had into music, drawing, painting, etc. When I came to college, I thought that art was the only path for me. Then, UVU helped me realize that I was capable and smart in other ways. I could do well at math, science, and whatever else I wanted. I ended up switching my major from art and design to psychology, and graduated in 2019 with my bachelor’s, magna cum laude.

At UVU, I felt accepted and that I belonged. It was my experience there that helped me to grow as a person and gain the confidence I needed to be a more authentic version of myself. It’s been 8 years since I came out, and my family and I are doing much better. I owe much of this progress to the efforts of my family but also to the supportive community I have at UVU. Although the way I was treated was exceedingly hurtful, I have come to understand that how I was treated came from a place of fear. My family loves me, and, despite the hardship we faced, they are also a huge part of the reason I was able to graduate in the first place. While they have struggled to understand me and are not always sure how to provide me with adequate emotional support, they have also never stopped loving me.