“Taylor” Asked:
My 25-year-old daughter came home 10 months ago to tell us she was gay and had a girlfriend. Four months ago, she announced they were getting married.
I’m heartbroken. I’m sad. I don’t know how to move forward with this. The Bible says it’s detestable. My husband won’t deal with it or even look at it. She’s been his stepdaughter for the past 22 years. He’s disgusted by it. My 17-year-old son is heartbroken. I prayed and prayed. I can’t seem to find peace.
She knows I need time, and she’s giving that to me. We do talk and text, hanging onto this relationship with my daughter with all I’ve got. I don’t know that I can go to the wedding; we go to weddings to support the couple being married, and I don’t support this. I have yet to meet my daughter’s fiancé. Not because I haven’t had the chance, but because I think it will make it more real, and I don’t want it to be. How do I and my family move forward in this? How do I stay true to my faith?
Dr. Zoe Answered:
First, I am holding space for all your feelings. This was not what you envisioned when you held your baby girl for the first time or during all the years of pouring into her as a parent. That’s the thing about our children—they are far more their own people than the dreams we build for them.
It’s okay to grieve. You are only 10 months into this, and this is a significant shift after a lifetime of thinking things would be different. Denial is a natural part of grief—it cushions the shock so that we can keep moving. But right now, it’s important to acknowledge the denial and not live inside of it.
Refusing to meet her fiancé doesn’t undo reality. It only creates distance and pain. Your daughter is here. Her life is unfolding. And meeting the woman she loves doesn’t mean you’re endorsing what you know to be wrong—it simply means you are choosing to stay connected to your daughter in the life she is actually living, not the one you hoped she would.
And even in grief, decisions still have to be made.
I want to be very clear, and I say this with deep care, not judgment: The worst decision you could make is to not attend your daughter’s wedding.
That may feel strong. But I don’t say it lightly. I have sat with hundreds of families on both sides of this exact scenario—the grieving parent and the child bracing for rejection. I have never, not once, seen a relationship restored through rejection. I have never seen someone come to God because the people representing Him withheld love. And I have never seen distance create the kind of influence that closeness does.
Not going to her wedding will not communicate conviction in the way you think it will. Your daughter already knows what you believe. Instead, it will communicate: “If you make choices I believe are wrong, I will turn away from you.” And that message will echo for years. I see it everyday. I’m so thankful God doesn’t do that to us. He pursues us even when we are running from him.
“If you make choices I believe are wrong, I will turn away from you.” I’m so thankful God doesn’t do that to us. He pursues us even when we are running from him.
I understand that you feel attending the wedding equals agreement. But that simply isn’t true. You probably already live this reality in other areas of your life. As parents of adult children, we are constantly loving people whose choices we don’t always fully agree with. I have four legally adult children and I know I do. We attend things, support things, show up for things—not because we endorse every decision, but because the relationship matters.
I invite you to ask yourself these questions:
1. If your ultimate hope and prayer is that your daughter finds her way back to God and aligns her life with the purpose he has for her, how would refusing to attend her wedding serve that goal?
2. What would Jesus do? And you can answer that question based on the example that he showed us in the Bible as he interacted with, broke bread with and loved the people who were considered the worst sinners. In Judean culture, this was seen as accepting them, which deeply scandalized the religious leaders of the time.
Love keeps doors open. When you look at the life of Jesus, He consistently moved toward people, not away from them. Especially when they were living in ways that went against biblical rules. He didn’t start with correction; he started with connection.
That doesn’t mean you abandon your beliefs. It means you embody them in a way that reflects the heart of them.
Right now, your son is also watching. He’s forming his understanding of love, faith, and family through how you respond. He likely already knows what you believe. What he is learning now is how those beliefs translate into action. This is an opportunity to show him what it looks like to hold conviction and compassion at the same time. Just like Jesus did.
Focus on what actually matters most:
- Your daughter’s relationship with God
- Your daughter’s relationship with you
Everything else is secondary. Not what extended family thinks. Not how this appears to your community. Not whether you feel fully at peace. Peace often comes after we make hard choices, not before.
Here’s what moving forward could look like:
You meet her fiancé as a statement of love for your daughter and another human that God created. You keep talking, even when it’s uncomfortable. You allow your grief to exist without letting it drive your decisions. And yes… you go to the wedding as a loving declaration to your daughter that says, “I am still your mother. I am still here. Nothing changes that.”
As you make your decisions, know that they are shaping the relationship you will have with your daughter five, 10 or 20 years from now.
One of the hardest parts of this may be attending your daughter’s wedding if your husband chooses not to. I don’t want to minimize that. It can feel like you’re being pulled in two directions: your commitment to your marriage on one side and your love for your daughter on the other.
If part of what’s holding you back is a belief that being a faithful wife means you must follow your husband’s lead in this decision, I want to challenge that. Unity in a marriage does not mean sameness in every decision. It does not mean silence when something deeply personal and relational is at stake. And it does not mean outsourcing your conscience. You are not choosing between your husband and your daughter or your husband and your faith. You are choosing how you will love your daughter in this moment.
My suggestion is to begin by reassuring your husband that nothing has changed in your thinking. You two are still on the same page. You are not abandoning your values or what you believe about same-sex relationships and marriage. But you are choosing to show up for your daughter as an expression of love and relationship.
Make it clear to him that you need to do this as her mother. Then you do the hard thing of allowing him to make his own decision. Often in marriage, we feel like we have to arrive at the same conclusion at the same time as our spouse in order to be “united.” But real unity is not forced alignment. It’s mutual respect for the pace of each other’s growth. It’s making space for each other’s process without control or coercion.
He may not go. He may not understand your decision right away. And that will be hard and sad too. But discomfort is not the same thing as disobedience or betrayal.
What would be far more damaging—to your daughter, and even to yourself—is ignoring what you know is a loving response because you feel you need permission to act on it. You can be a committed wife and a loving mother. Those roles are not in competition.
So reassure your husband. Stay grounded in your values. But don’t abandon your voice. You are allowed to love your daughter out loud, even if you have to do that part on your own.
And I want to leave you with this, because I can feel how afraid you are that making the “wrong” decision here could fracture your family in ways that can’t be repaired: Families are more resilient than we think when God and his love are radiating from the center.
Families are more resilient than we think when God and his love are radiating from the center.
This moment may feel like it has the power to break everything, but it also has the power to redefine your family in a deeper, more honest way. You are not losing your family by showing up for your daughter in this important moment. You are anchoring it. And you don’t have to do it perfectly.
You just have to do it prayerfully, with courage, honesty, and love.
You’ve got this!
