Finding Solace in Something That Makes You Feel Excluded

“More than half of adults raised Catholic have left the church at one point in their life. If you were to ask me if I’d still consider myself Catholic, the only response I can give to that question is, ‘It’s complicated.’”

That’s how Vik Pepaj (they/them), a writer at Stony Brook University’s monthly magazine The Press begins a personal essay entitled “How to Fail at Being a Lapsed Catholic.” The essay focuses on an experience that many LGBTQ+ Catholics have had: the struggle between considering yourself Catholic even if you feel isolated by the church.

The essay begins by spelling out the complexity of finding solace in something that also makes you feel excluded:

“While I wasn’t raised by a family that was active in the Church or attending worship every Sunday, religious messaging always loomed in my home. When I’d wake with a long day ahead of me, my mother would throw holy water on my head so I’d have the power of God on my side. Every achievement made, every heartbreak experienced and every unsure path was given to God and retold in prayer. When I first started questioning my sexuality, I turned to my mother, and she turned to the Bible. Religion was the first place I felt both comfort and hate.”

Pepaj draws the common conclusion that “it’s hard to be queer and religious.” The root of those difficulties is often the church community that queer people find themselves in. In Pepaj’s case, it is their close family and friends that exhibit less than accepting attitudes about LGBTQ+ issues and same-sex relationships:

“That internal conflict didn’t exist in a vacuum. My real problem with religion didn’t just come from scripture — it came from how those beliefs played out in the people around me. My religious friends and families’ attitudes towards gay people were shaped by Catholic values. They didn’t have to be shouting Bible verses or be outwardly homophobic. The silence, subtle remarks and ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ mentality all reflected the shame that surrounds queerness. When connected to God, it made the bigotry I faced, no matter how elusive, much worse.”

Distance widened between Vik and family, when their mother’s “sly comments about the queer community became obvious, and I grew angrier at her for feeling that way.” As they began to see their mother’s human flaws, it also became obvious that “a lot of those flaws stemmed from Catholicism. The negative aspects of religion became so obvious to me.”

As with many queer people, the challenges only grew stronger in Catholic middle school, but Pepaj said that a Catholic middle school was similar to their public one—just with religious messaging and 45-minute religion classes. Pepaj depicts their experience as a young queer person in a Catholic school with nuance, noting that it had both its ups and downs:

“I wasn’t reprimanded for being gay, but it certainly wasn’t applauded. As often as I’d push back on their beliefs, they’d find a way to address what I said while still preaching the word of God. They weren’t perfect educators by any means, but I like to think they tried their best.

“My classmates were also very accepting. I had a friend group made up of queer and straight people who didn’t let the fact that I was gay bother them. But the occasional slur or hurtful comment would tend to slip, especially from the kids I never got close to. This made me aware of how conditional my relationships were. I acted loud and proud, but I was scared to speak up, and when I did, the friendliness disappeared.”

Pepaj is open about the fact that they still haven’t completely become a fully devout Catholic, but they’re happy with where they are, observing:

 “. . .  the older I got, the harder it was to hold on to this grudge I had against God and Catholicism. It was exhausting to pretend I didn’t want what others had and fall to hate instead. Watching others have a loving relationship with religion while I struggled to build my own was what made me flee in the first place. I longed for faith and purpose.”

They end the essay with an update about where they currently stand with Catholicism: trying their best. and being open for faith to meet them where they are and as they are:

“I’m not ready to dedicate myself to religion, whether that’s every week or just during the month of Lent. I’ve tried and failed to practice like a real Catholic and I’ll keep trying until it makes sense. My response in regard to my relationship with religion is always going to be, “It’s complicated.’ Frankly, I have far too much baggage and am far too gay to ever be fully comfortable being a Catholic. But every year, I slowly find my way back and explore what my religion means to me. Every month, I find one verse or prayer that resonates with the path I think God has laid out for me. And every day, I look above my desk, where a tiny unused bottle of holy water stares me down as if to say, ‘I’m here when you’re ready.’ ”

—Elsie Carson-Holt, New Ways Ministry, May 28, 2025