Episode 158: Pivotal Moments: What else am I wrong about? with Michelle and Rachel Crosland-Barnard

Meagan: Welcome to today’s episode of Beyond the Shadow of Doubt. I have Michelle and Rachel Barnard‑Crosland with me today.

Michelle: You got it right.

Rachel: Yep.

Meagan: We were chatting before I hit record, and I mentioned I’m a little nervous—and I don’t know why. Your story is beautiful. You’re trailblazers, and I honor you for that. This is a unique and sacred space. Thank you for being willing to share your story on the podcast today. Welcome!

Rachel: Thanks for having us.

Meagan: To start, would you introduce yourselves—where you grew up and a bit of your background?

Rachel: I grew up all over. I was born in Texas and lived there until about nine. Then Virginia for a year, and then Hong Kong from ages ten to fifteen. When my dad retired, we settled in Provo, Utah, where I finished high school. I went to the University of Utah. I married during college, moved to California for about nine or ten years, eventually divorced, and moved back to Utah for family connections. Career‑wise, I’ve worked since college and currently do software sales at Adobe, helping customers understand what our software does. I have one son from my first marriage—he’s five. Michelle can share her story and we’ll talk about how they intersect.

Michelle: I grew up in Provo, Utah—born and raised. I went to BYU, studied mechanical engineering, married while at BYU, and was pregnant when I graduated, so I never worked in engineering. I became a stay‑at‑home mom for about eleven years and have four kids from my first marriage. After my divorce, I entered the workforce for the first time—that was difficult, but I found my way. I worked for a faculty office for a while and now I’m a health clerk at an elementary school in Provo. It’s great because I’m on the same schedule as my kids.

Meagan: Amazing. Reinventing yourself after years at home isn’t easy—I know. Thank you both. Were you each raised in the LDS faith? And is that true for your families as well?

Rachel: Yes. My mom’s a convert; my dad’s side has multiple LDS generations. I grew up in a typical LDS family. I have great parents.

Michelle: Same—grew up LDS in Provo, in what you’d call a typical LDS family.

Meagan: Do you both have siblings?

Michelle: I’m the oldest of four.

Meagan: I’m the youngest of five! Okay—so I invited you because I heard you both speak at the Gather Conference in Provo in September 2024. Your story is not common, and you shared it with such courage. Would you share it here? You mentioned you’re married.

Rachel: We’ve been married just over a year—we married last October and just celebrated our first anniversary. We met via a support group for queer LDS women through Lift & Love, and got to know each other there. I had work trips to Utah and met up with a local group from the support circle. I very quickly fell in love with Michelle—pretty much immediately. I felt an emotional and spiritual pull to her. It was clear she’d be an important part of my life—even if I didn’t yet know what that would look like. Fast‑forward: we married, blended our families, and we’re pursuing life and growth together.

Michelle: That’s the short version—that’s how we met and fell in love.

Meagan: One of my goals on this podcast is to normalize faith journeys and celebrate their differences. I appreciated, Rachel, that you felt both emotional and spiritual connection—and you knew she’d be part of your life. Many assume that acknowledging a queer identity can’t be guided by God. I’d love to hear more. You both originally had heteronormative marriages and children. When did you understand your identities, and what did that look like?

Michelle: Growing up, I was social, dated boys in high school—the usual. I also felt drawn to girls. I had close girlfriends I was “obsessed with,” though I didn’t have language for it. In a culture swimming in heteronormativity, there wasn’t space to question or explore. My first clear realization was freshman year at BYU—I fell in love with a roommate. At first I admired her and we became friends, but I felt differently about her than any guy. I’d rush home from dates to be with her. I wanted to hold her hand and be close. It felt good and pure—I wanted to make her day better and serve her. That conflicted with what I’d been taught: that homosexuality was a sin and not from God. I tried to dissect the love—keep the “good” parts and strip out the “bad”—but you can’t unravel love that way. It was confusing, but it was also when my paradigm began to shift. I trusted my feelings: this didn’t feel wrong. Yet I also believed that, to progress spiritually—marry in the temple, have an eternal family—I couldn’t choose that path. So I doubled down on the gospel: served a mission, dated men, and married someone who looked right on paper. I didn’t feel for him what I’d felt for her, but I told myself it was “good enough” and that Christ would compensate for the lack because I was doing the “right” thing. I filled the void with kids and hobbies and kept busy to compensate.

Rachel: My story is slightly different: I was deeply in denial. I believed the path to happiness and eternal life was clear: marry a man, have a family, nurture children. That was my existence. Looking back, there were so many signs—feelings toward girls were different from boys—but it felt impossible to consider. When your eternal happiness (and others’) seems dependent on certain choices, there’s no other option. Over time, I couldn’t deny my experiences: feelings, thoughts, yearning. When they surfaced, I framed them as something happening to me—Satan or a bad spirit—trying to take me off the path. It’s sad to say that out loud, but that’s where I was. Eventually, I had to face reality. I was deep into a marriage to a man and had a son, and I had to weigh what was right moving forward. It was a very difficult process with real grief attached, even today. That’s how I went so long without understanding a big piece of myself.

Meagan: Thank you for sharing—so tender and personal. For many, there’s a bridge from “there” to “here.” What role did questioning play in moving you forward? Were there catalysts?

Rachel: There’s a lot. First, early in my marriage, we tried to have children and faced undiagnosed infertility. I was sure God wanted me to be a mother; that was my purpose. Having it not work was a paradigm shift. I learned to wait on God’s timing, to sit in uncertainty, and to deepen my relationship with the Savior. That foundation helped later. Another big moment was during COVID when Black Lives Matter was central. I studied racism and examined myself. I’d have said, “I’m not racist,” but I realized the air I breathe contains racism and I participate in it, even unintentionally. It was deeply humbling to learn my view of reality could be wrong. I fell to my knees and prayed the most sincere prayer I’ve ever prayed: What else am I wrong about? From there, piece by piece, I came to better understand my identity and queerness. Things are nuanced and complicated; I needed God’s help to grow.

Meagan: That’s a beautiful, courageous prayer. Michelle?

Michelle: That first BYU experience taught me that my own revelation might differ from church leaders’ messaging. Another key time was my mission in Nicaragua. I sometimes felt pressured by leaders to push people toward baptism before they were ready. The Spirit told me otherwise. I learned to trust how God speaks to me, even if others said different. Over the years, I’ve always been a questioner—thanks to my mom, who encouraged thinking and discussion. As a teen, simple answers from scripture or conference talks often sufficed. But as life got harder, questions deepened. Regarding orientation, I reached a point where I couldn’t ignore it. It was more uncomfortable not to look at it. I had to take it to the Lord.

Meagan: You both learned to differentiate your own impressions from external voices. How did you give yourselves permission to act on personal revelation?

Rachel: Growing up in the church, I learned what the Spirit feels like and practiced following it—moving when prompted, not doing things when checked, teaching by the Spirit. By the time my internal conflict became severe—impacting mental health and presence—there was no choice but to reconcile it with God. Step by step, I received pieces of revelation and trusted them based on past experience with the Spirit and my relationship with the Savior, even when the situation felt impossible.

Michelle: Same. I was taught from a young age that Heavenly Parents are invested in me personally and speak to me. My life repeatedly confirmed that—specific prayers answered with personal guidance. That builds confidence in your own spiritual impressions. People wonder why we still attend church when it can be hard for LGBTQ members. Some of my most precious beliefs—my moral compass and my relationship with God and Christ—came from church teachings. Those very teachings led me here. I respect that others need to step away; those journeys are valid. For me, my lifetime of personal revelation anchors me.

Meagan: You also mentioned community—meeting others like you and feeling the Spirit as they shared.

Michelle: For a long time, I didn’t know anyone like me—LDS and attracted to women—so I felt isolated. Meeting even one person was soul‑expanding. As I heard more stories and testimonies from LGBTQ people, I felt the Spirit confirm the truth in what they said. That mattered.

Rachel: Same. Hearing others accept and celebrate their identity—and bear testimony of their experiences with God and Christ—was huge. Feeling the same Spirit I’ve felt all my life confirmed that if it’s true for them, it’s true for me.

Meagan: Navigating identity and faith involves more than church—it’s families, work, community. What has that been like?

Michelle: It’s tricky. There’s often fear at first. I came out to my family about a year before telling them I was divorcing. Initially, I said, “Nothing’s changing,” because I longed to be known but also hoped for a certain outcome. Telling them about the divorce was very hard. Their fears were multifaceted—practical worries about me and the kids, and eternal concerns. God gave me grace to hold space for them. I kept conversations open, validated fears where I could, stayed humble, and prioritized relationships over beliefs and fear. Over time, things blossomed—we have great relationships on both sides. Our families were at our wedding. That took time and effort from everyone to choose love.

Rachel: I agree.

Meagan: For those listening who are in a similar place, your advice seems to be: choose love over belief systems and fear, while honoring safety. Before we close, what are the pain points of living as queer disciples who value faith and community?

Michelle: I don’t feel a conflict between being a disciple of Christ and being married to Rachel. There’s no internal “this is wrong.” The pain is that others see a conflict. Our local ward is kind and loving; we generally feel wanted and accepted, despite limitations on participation. But it’s still painful to hear church leaders teach that our life is sinful or wrong, and to be restricted because of it, when internally there’s no conflict.

Rachel: On church participation—we both have deep testimonies and personal relationships with the Savior that we learned in church. We live in a nuanced space, trying to be true to ourselves and to what feels good, right, and holy. There’s a lot of accompanying grief: not having a temple recommend, life unfolding differently than expected, splitting time with my son—never the intention. This is a challenging space. Grace, love, and withholding judgment go a long way.

Meagan: I feel that grief. Thank you for trusting us with it. My last question—this show is called Beyond the Shadow of Doubt. What does it mean to live beyond the shadow of doubt?

Michelle: For me, it’s trusting that we have loving Heavenly Parents in charge. Doubts will always exist; life is messy and nuanced. I can’t answer why being married to each other feels right for us while church teachings say otherwise. Living beyond doubt means getting comfortable in the gray and putting my trust in loving Parents who have my best interest and are guiding me—and letting that be enough.

Rachel: I echo that. Through infertility, I learned God is at the helm and I can trust His timing. I have hope for the future. I’ve watched people jump into the boat with us—grabbing figurative buckets when it feels like it’s sinking—instead of letting us sink. Seeing people adapt and change gives me hope. It’s a slow process, but a process nonetheless.

Meagan: I love that imagery. To end on a lighter note, a few quick questions—one‑ or two‑word answers if you can. Favorite book?

Michelle: East of Eden by John Steinbeck.

Meagan: Introvert or extrovert?

Rachel: Introvert through and through.

Michelle: Extrovert—and apparently opposites attract.

Meagan: Favorite artist?

Rachel: I love music—especially electronic genres—hard to pick just one.

Michelle: Local artist Brian Kershisnik. Also my sister, Paige Anderson, a Utah artist whose work I admire.

Meagan: Night owl or morning lark?

Michelle: I just like to sleep—go to bed early, wake when it feels good.

Rachel: More productive in the morning—early to bed, up to tackle the day.

Meagan: Celebrity crush?

Rachel: Plenty, but blanking!

Michelle: We’ve been watching Marvel—Elizabeth Olsen as Wanda is very pretty.

Meagan: Sparkling water or diet soda?

Rachel: Diet soda.

Meagan: Diet Dr Pepper—way too much of it.

Michelle: Same.

Meagan: Farthest place you’ve traveled?

Rachel: Australia—highly recommend.

Michelle: Ukraine.

Meagan: If you’re open to it, we’ll include your social media handles in the show notes so folks can reach out. Thank you for being brave—following your hearts, doing hard things, and creating more safety and love.

Rachel: Thank you for creating space for us to share.

Meagan: This has been special—tender and really, really good. Thank you both.