Episode 97: Just Jesus, that’s my motto with Autumn McAlpin Part 2

I grew up with big dreams. I used to think I’d be the first female president of the United States — and I love that so much. Then reality hit, and I realized that, yes, some people can create real change in that position, but for me, I can create the most change working from the ground up rather than the top down.

When my son came out, I turned to people who had been there before. I read everything I could. I started listening. It was during COVID, so we had a lot of solitary time. I would go on these long bike rides and listen to all of Richard Osler’s podcasts. I read every book I could get my hands on and talked to any parent who would answer the phone — just trying to learn how I could do this well.

How could I be the best rainbow mama out there? I tried to take cues from my son, but quickly realized not everyone was on the same page. We definitely had close friendships that pulled away. Some were deep betrayals that hurt — people who had helped me raise my child. Hearing the things they said about us was painful, and it took a long time to process.

Luckily, I have a great therapist who’s very wise — she’s the voice in my head now. Once, when I was trying to defend people’s hurtful behavior, she said something that stuck with me: “They might be great people, but they’re not great friends for you right now.” That helped me build healthy boundaries and protection. In a way, that year gave us the space to redefine our life.

We also moved that year, and I found myself in a new community. Within the LDS framework where I live now, the wards tend to be more open. The leadership in my ward is more progressive. Church isn’t always easy for me — I’m not the person sitting on the front row anymore — but it’s a little more laid back, and people have respected where we’re at.

I met with several leaders, and some conversations went better than others. I had to learn quickly who I could trust. At first, it was actually less scary to go to the temple, where there’s a set script, than to go to church, where you don’t know what might be said. During that time, I began feeling a very open conduit to the Divine — promptings that were clear and different from anything I’d been taught in Sunday School. Messages like, “It’s okay for you to leave. You’re doing okay. Your son’s fine.”

I stopped worrying so much. My job became to protect my family. Because of where I work now — at a community resource center — I spend my time helping people. When I turn to scripture, I go straight to the Gospels. I love Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. It’s just Jesus. That phrase — just Jesus — runs through my mind constantly. I don’t read conference talks or commentaries anymore; I just go straight to the source.

At the center where I volunteer, we help refugees, women in crisis, victims of domestic violence, and people who are hungry — every single day. Life becomes beautifully simple when you focus on “just Jesus.” Religion can be simple, too. I’ve been blessed to serve and feel a steady flow of the Spirit in a way that works for me.

So when church feels uncomfortable, I don’t feel like I’ve lost something. For me, church has always gone beyond a building or a certain practice. My mom raised us that way, and I recognize what a privilege that is. Now, when people come to me struggling with isolation or depression, I always say: get outside yourself — where can you serve, where can you give?

That’s where I put my energy. As a volunteer, I run a few support groups. One is called Just Love — we meet once a month at my house for lunch, and we have evening events, too. We’ve had speakers like Charlie and Ben, and a youth panel that brought in about 400 local teens. We’ve also hosted Pastor Sam Mitchell, who I absolutely adore.

We’ve built a strong community. I also helped start a local Faith Matters book club, which draws 30–50 people who want to explore a more expansive faith. And of course, there’s my work with Lift and Love — a platform at the intersection of LDS and LGBTQ stories. Every week, I meet and interview a different family. People thank me for doing it, but the truth is, I learn so much from them. I’ve made friends all over the world through those conversations.

Our community is big and full of support. I’ve strengthened friendships that I deeply needed. Right now, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I feel more love, peace, and joy than ever before. My religious life might not look like what others expect — it’s not confined to Sunday worship — but I’m trying to live my Christianity 24/7. I’m not perfect, but I’m thinking beyond the box.

Church, for me, has always gone beyond the building. My day-to-day life is my spirituality. From what I can see and hear, you live it — not just on Sunday, but every day. I think that’s what Christ did. And I love that you said your favorite scriptures are the Gospels — because they’re “just Jesus.”

My most recent book is called But Jesus: A Conversation with Jesus. The title came to me through inspiration. I’ve written many things, but never something that so clearly flowed through me. I felt like a medium — just typing what was being given to me. The title appeared in my mind exactly as it needed to be, punctuation and all.

My prayer life has changed too — it’s now a constant inner dialogue rather than something structured. I’ve never been comfortable praying in public; for me, prayer is a conversation that never really begins or ends.

The book was born from a painful experience. A local youth event featured a speaker whose message was deeply harmful. My son, who had just come out, attended to support me — and the talk was devastating for him. That night, I had a loud, emotional prayer — an argument, really — with God. I was told clearly to write it down and send it to that man and his colleagues. And that’s how the book began.

It came as poetry, as conversations — some with real people, including that church leader. It was raw and painful, and I sat on it for a year. I wasn’t ready, and I wanted to protect my son. Eventually, I felt prompted again to show it to him. He gave me permission to share it. I sent it to the leaders, and then the voice came again: “Now publish it.”

I didn’t want to. But the moment I said yes, miracles started lining up — a publisher, art, music rights. J. Kirk Richards, my favorite artist, agreed to do the cover. Janice Kapp Perry, whose music I quoted, gave permission — and it turns out she has two gay sons. It was like the stars aligned.

Every dollar from the book goes to Encircle, an LGBTQ+ resource and therapy center. We’ve raised several thousand dollars so far. I’ve connected with readers around the world, and even received letters from LDS leadership — some of which surprised me.

Publishing something so personal was terrifying. There’s always that fear of being rejected by your community. But when you feel divine guidance, you move forward anyway. After I mailed forty physical copies to church leadership, I felt peace — that sense of “you’re finished, you did what you were supposed to do.”

The book still doesn’t feel like mine; I just typed it. But I’m proud of it and the good it’s done.

You mentioned your son earlier — knowing who he was from a young age, and how others sometimes question that. I think of it this way: so many in the LDS faith believe Joseph Smith had spiritual experiences at fourteen, yet when a child says they know their identity at that same age, people doubt it. Your son knew who he was, and you trusted that.

For parents earlier on this journey, I’d offer this: be gentle with yourself. One mom told me early on, “You might cry every day for six months — and then one day, you’ll stop, and you’ll see beauty. Two years later, you’ll wake up and say, this is the best thing that ever happened to us.” And that’s exactly how it went.

My tears weren’t because my son is gay — they were because I knew the world would make things harder for him. Not because of who he is, but because of how others treat him. That’s what breaks your heart as a parent.

But over time, I’ve realized how much beauty there is in this journey. We love bigger and deeper. We meet people who love wide open. I’ve learned so much about sacrifice and compassion. Sometimes it hurts to think our kids might have to suffer for others to learn, but it also makes me honor him even more.

It reminds me of Mary — how she “kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.” That scripture has taken on new meaning for me as the mother of a child walking a unique path. What an honor it is to be his mom.

Living beyond the shadow of doubt to me means breaking through fear — like kicking down a brick wall. Once that wall is gone, you can rebuild with freedom. For me, the key words are liberation, autonomy, and integrity.

Liberation, in knowing that God is so much bigger than we’ve ever imagined.
Autonomy, in trusting my own divine revelation, even when it differs from what’s preached.
And integrity, in living honestly — whatever that looks like for me.

When I focus on those three principles, I find peace. My path looks different from most, but it’s mine — and it’s rooted in “just Jesus.”

I’m trying to live my faith every day, not just on Sundays.

As for some lighter things — I love authors like Anne Lamott, Anne Patchett, and Leanne Moriarty. I’m a social introvert — I love people, but I always look forward to being home alone. My favorite artist is J. Kirk Richards, and musically I love Coldplay and U2 — deeply spiritual bands, in my opinion.

I’m definitely a night owl — people think I wake up at 4 a.m. because that’s when I post reels, but really, I just haven’t gone to bed yet.

Celebrity crush? Chris Hemsworth — hands down. I even have a candle that says “Smells like Chris Hemsworth.”

My drink of choice is Diet Dr. Pepper — specifically the zero sugar cream soda flavor.

The furthest I’ve traveled? Hard to say — I’ve been to all seven continents, including Antarctica, which might be the most spiritual place on Earth. The quiet there is unlike anything else.

And finally, yes, I used to work in front of the camera — mostly modeling and commercials, and I loved theater. These days, I’m behind the camera in film production, which feels right for where I am now.

If you’d like to connect, you can find me on Instagram at @autumnmcalpin or through my production site, sidegigproductions.com.

Thank you so much for having me and for the beautiful work you do.