A selection of my latest writings here:
A Decade Married
Written May 15, 2021
Today marks 10 years married, and more than 17 years together.
I won’t pull a social media fakery and pretend that this last year hasn’t been the toughest test to our marriage yet. (Raise your hand if this is you too ) Oof. It has felt like the largest storm we have ever weathered. (See: Global pandemic + parenting toddlers + work at home + quarantine.)
This I know for sure:
We fought for seven years to stay together while closeted, supporting each others’ different journeys of acceptance.
We found the courage to do what many said we couldn’t – to take each others’ hand and step forward into a life of authenticity together.
We stood before our God and our friends and celebrated our love 10 years ago today. On that day, I had never felt so certain, so at peace, or so wholly supported by love in my entire life.
We have worked hard since 2010 to build a life, our careers and foster a community here in BC. We moved here with no money, no jobs and no friends. Together, I believe we have succeeded.
We walked through years of our fertility journey, grieving deeply when it didn’t work, and then celebrating when Robson and then Hudson was born.
We have always found a way to have fun, including today – taking our wine in a travel mug and our fancy pizza to a nearby beach to be Covid safe.
So here we are. Amid packing boxes, toddler mess and a whole lot to reflect on. We never planned to celebrate this milestone in a pandemic. But – we also never predicted the breathtaking beauty we would see in doing life together.
So, here we are.
In my wedding vows to Tams I quoted a line from one of our favourite movies The Village:
“The world moves for love. It stands before it in awe.”
We have built this beautifully imperfect, loud, joyously chaotic family. This is our legacy of love together. Today, we can stand before that in awe.
Tomorrow, we will continue to do our best to always choose love.
Written April 19, 2021
I lay my head on the grass
Close my eyes
And feel the weight of my body
sinking into the earth
In the distance
A woodpecker drums a beat
Kids shout happily as they play
The trees creak and sway into the breeze
I breathe deep
My stomach pressing
into the ground
I remember to feel what it is
to be alive
In this moment
The joy, the grief,
I exhale the ache
of trying to let go
I inhale the grace
of trying to hear
my own voice
What is it you want
It’s safe to come out
The winds of change
Listen to how the leaves dance
It carries hope
It breathes dreams
(Trigger warning: LGBTQ Christian voices being silenced)
In September, I was invited to speak at a Christian conference out of Vancouver. I was really excited, because they wanted to include LGBTQ Christian voices, and I love speaking about such things! Their conference is in January 2021, and due to Covid, all virtual. Because of that, they asked the speakers to film their 30 minute workshops so they could stream them the day of the conference.
In October, I wrote what was on my heart to share: owning my gay Christian story. They approved and were really encouraging about my outline. In November, with the help of my pastor and friend Bradley, I filmed and edited the workshop (no small feat), and sent it over.
In mid-December, the founder of the conference reached out to me to say that they have come to a very difficult decision: they have to cut the LGBTQ workshops out of their conference. (I believe there was one other one besides mine.)
Since then, we have exchanged emails, and had a very honest and lengthy conversation on Zoom. (Which was tough – but encouraging too. People these days tend to not want to have hard conversations, so I really appreciate that openness.) They are a fairly new conference, and I know this has not been an easy decision for them. It has caused grief and heartache. I say this because I want to point out that I don’t believe there are clear cut “good guys” and “bad guys” in these situations. We are all imperfect people, trying our best to love each other and navigate this journey of life. But yes – this still hurts.
I want to be really careful about speaking on their behalf. So I’m going to share their official announcement in regards to cancelling the workshops here: (this was posted on their Facebook page)
The reasons they decided to cut the LGBTQ workshops are not the main focus for me here. The focus for me is this: I was invited to the table to share because of who I am. And then I was asked to leave for the same reason. In December 2020, in (liberal Canadian) Vancouver, this still happens. LGBTQ Christians are still being asked not to share.
As a gay Christian, this strikes a painful chord that resonates deep, almost like that feeling when you bite on tinfoil. Like so many gay people, I have a long history of being hurt and silenced by “the church” and by some “Christians”. This situation brings a lot of that past trauma to the surface.
It dredges up the same old fears:
Is my voice not valued?
Am I not valued?
Do I not belong?
Should I stop sharing?
On behalf of myself and the LGBTQ Christian community, I have this to say: I am angry. And that is good. Anger is necessary here. This is unjust. This is not okay.
But I refuse to use this energy to destroy, or to be malicious. I will let it fuel me towards the greater good, and I will forge ahead. Because I have and will make missteps and hurt people, and I need to practice radical grace for others, if that’s what I hope to receive. Even though it’s hard, I want to keep talking, keep learning, keep growing.
I will choose to forgive, because as someone who follows Jesus and not a specific institution, I believe it’s the best thing for my heart, my faith and my integrity. But I won’t rush to fix the hurt, because I need to feel this.
For those of you for whom this also brings up past hurts, please hear me: I am here for you. I will stand up for you. When I am quiet, and I let the fears calm, there is a louder and steadfast truth that reverberates from inside: I AM valued. My voice IS valued. I DO belong. God is – in fact – proud of me for sharing.
But. Make. No. Mistake.
I will not be silenced. I plan to release my video workshop in January when I am ready, and on my own terms. I think it may actually hold more meaning because of what has transpired.
This has happened to me before, and it will no doubt happen to me again. This is why I wrote my book. This is why I will continue to speak when asked. This is why I choose to be visible.
I cannot call myself an advocate, and then shy away from these situations. I will stand up. Because it’s needed. Because many other LGBTQ Christian people are asked to be quiet, to leave, or to change who they are – and they may not have the energy or will to keep going.
There is still much work to be done. And I am here for it.
Is what I’ve been told
But it must be a lie
‘Cause the Spirit inside says I’m so much more
So let them say what they want
Oh I dare them to try
I’m gonna run
No, I’m gonna fly
I’m gonna know what it means to live
And not just be alive
The world’s gonna hear
‘Cause I’m gonna shout
And I will be dancing when circumstances drown the music out”
Covid-fatigue is hitting everyone. I feel it all around me. This has been hard, hasn’t it friends?
Lately I have tried to allow this discomfort and fear and anxiety dust off the buried treasures within myself. I think there are extremely important lessons about life, and ourselves, that we can only learn in these types of seasons. I’m learning to be grateful for small things, to slow down and listen to my own voice, and how to show up for my family.
On Sunday I took a quick break from working on the sketches for “Still Stace” (pant, pant, there are 99 sketches now!) to go on my bike.
When I left it was sunny. Halfway through my ride, it clouded over and absolutely down poured rain. I pulled over, looked up at the sky and let it soak me. It felt renewing. I maintain that it’s one of the privileges to being alive.
There are days when we need to run and seek shelter from the rain. And then there are days when we open our arms, and invite the rain to wash over us.
Sending love, friends.
Oct 17, 2020 – How it started / How it’s going.
I thought I would jump on this bandwagon I’m seeing online, cuz it’s fun (and WHOA to reflect).
How it started – Aww, bless. Lookit my scrunchie and plaid pants. I obsessively drew every Disney character I could get a picture of (seemingly only the female ones though, hmm…), and I would dream of working in animation. The thought of getting paid to draw was more amazing than I could ever imagine. I know I was born a (sometimes foolish) dreamer, and this has brought me far.
How it’s going – I actually stopped to count, and after almost ten years of working in animation, I’m working on the design crew of my 15th animated production, for DreamWorks. (Ya hear that, 14 year old Stace??!) I have illustrated a real picture book called “Rainbow Boy”, which is being published in 3 short months!! This photo below was taken this week, as I work on the rough illustrations for “Still Stace”, publishing Fall 2021. Well, shoot. I’m actually kinda proud of me after reading that!
One of my (many) songs on rotation on Spotify is “Keep Dreaming” by Hedegaard. It’s become my theme while working on my book. “I’m trying to say, just keep dreaming and work hard.”
Never EVER give up on your dreams!
August 12, 2020 – It’s complicated.
I almost didn’t post this.
But I’m 40 now, so screw it, I’m not editing myself anymore!
I wrote this after a recent visit with my parents. (I hid this from them on social media. Because I do love them and don’t want to hurt them. But being honest about hard things is important.)
This is for every queer person who still has unaffirming people in their life who love them. It’s so hard. I hear you, I love you, you aren’t alone.
It’s so complicated.
August 3, 2020 – Learning to be brave.
Right now I am working on final revisions for my manuscript for “Still Stace”. I’m also reading Glennon Doyle’s “Untamed”. This is quickly becoming a tumultuous, beautiful, terrible, gut-wrenching, wonderful, life-changing gift.
I have to read it very slowly, digesting it in small bits. Sometimes in the bath (the only place to read where I can lock myself away from toddlers), I can only manage a couple pages. My copy of her book is already dog-eared, annotated and frantically underlined. I’m not halfway done yet.
I feel, as I know many people feel, it was written JUST for me in this season of my life. No but, really, it feels that way. Glennon, can you hear me??
Today was a rare day for me. I was taken to the spa for a glorious getaway. As I laid on a surprisingly comfortable wooden recliner outside, wrapped in one of their lush white robes, I tried to muscle my way through a good chunk of her book. I feel in my bones that I need to absorb what every page says, but it’s hitting (too) close to home. Once again I hit the “oof, that hurts” wall after just a few pages.
I folded it face down on my chest and stared up at the blue sky. The spa doesn’t allow technology on-site, so I was actually forced to notice things. The way the soft breeze rustled the leaves overhead ever so gently. I studied the way the clouds swirled and reformed their puffy shapes quickly and slowly at the same time. The soothing sounds of the spa music – all that was missing was a masseuse’s hands on my shoulders.
Brené Brown talks about how she knows a book is good when she wants to throw it across the room. Well, Glennon, your book has a lot of air miles in my mind. I don’t want what you are saying to be true, but dammit, it is.
“Brave is not asking the crowd what is brave. Brave is deciding for oneself. To be brave is to forsake all others to be true to yourself.”
That sounds easy.
That sounds logical.
That sounds impossible.
How is it, that at the age of 40, I am only now learning how to truly be brave?? How to listen for my own knowing, not the mix of voices in my head that want to do the “right thing”, make others happy or do whatever it takes not to hurt them.
Guys, this is so tough.
As I write about my younger self’s struggles in coming out and finding peace with my faith and sexuality, I realize I am yet again on another excruciating journey of finding myself. (Not in the same way mind you, I’m gayer than ever.)
But then, that’s what’s life is, right? “Being human is not hard because you’re doing it wrong, it’s hard because you’re doing it right.” (Damn you, Glennon. Also, thank you Glennon.)
Okay, let’s keep reading.
July 26, 2020 – This is 40.
Yesterday, I turned 40. I’m not sure how that is possible, when inside I feel no older than 14!
Life is (real) messy right now, but I woke up feeling stupidly grateful to be alive, and convinced myself to take my first selfie ever because WELL WHY NOT. Are bathroom selfies still a thing?! (Revealing my age now.)
I know this:
I am loved.
My mind is smarter and clearer than ever.
My body is strong and healthy. (Working out almost daily is the best thing I have ever done for my mental health and self care.)
I am the closest today to who I was made to be, and I’m excited about that. I have screwed up big throughout my life, but dammit, I really like me.
I’m not certain I deserve this beautiful life I have, but I am trying hard to grab hold of every day, stay present, work hard, dream harder, and make the most of it.
40 is also the age I will be when books are published with my name on it. (Actual books! I still don’t fully believe that until I hold one.) So many of my dreams are yet to come true, so bring it on 40’s!!!! 💯🎉🌈
Yesterday was filled with my fav things – kitchen dance party with my kids, swimming in my fav lake and breathing in deep the mountain air, sneaking in a workout, and enjoying my fav foods with a few of my people (in our Covid bubble). Man, I am so damn lucky to be alive. I don’t want to waste this breath in my lungs.
“I am a human being, meant to be in perpetual becoming. If I am living bravely, my entire life will become a million deaths and rebirths. My goal is not to remain the same but to live in such a way that each day, year, moment, relationship, conversation, and crisis is the material I use to become a truer, more beautiful version of myself.”
– @glennondoyle “Untamed”
June 30, 2020 – Pride.
It’s the last day of pride month. 🌈
2020 has felt more formative for me than ever.
My gay Christian journey started when I was 16, but now that I am (so very) close to the big 4-0, I feel like I am just beginning in a lot of ways. I’m truly learning what it means to trust myself – the deep, knowing me inside. To show up for myself and do hard things.
I’m learning it’s good and necessary to take up space in this world, to say things, to deeply feel things.
2020 has been a tremendously hard year – for everyone – but often the hardest times bring about the most growth and beauty. I have a sense the coming months for me will be the hardest, but I am tenaciously hopeful and believing for the growth and beauty in the midst of it. (Maybe, because of it.)
A friend sent me this quote that I have said to myself every day lately:
“I will go, and I will go afraid.”
– Morgan Harper Nichols
I hope that wherever you are on your coming out journey, you know it is okay.
You are more than okay. You are loved.
Happy Pride, my friends. ❤️🌈🎉
📷 Photo of Stacey ©2019 Camilla Hrytzak.
June 28, 2020 – A parent-scare + restore-faith-in-humanity story.
As a parent, you never know when your kids will get hurt, but you are always waiting for it on some level. (And when you have a 2.5 yr old son like mine, you wait for it every day.)
We explored a new place last night, a walking trail (mostly concrete) around a man-made lake. It had been raining off and on, and past their bedtime, so we took one last photo of the kids before heading for the car. Our son then decided to run up a wet rock and slipped, falling head first on the concrete with a loud & sickening CRACK. (Yes, lots of blood immediately everywhere.)
Friends, there’s so many good people out there.
Thank you to the couple who were passing by, who stopped and immediately asked if they should call 911. They called, talked with us and the dispatchers, waited with us and directed the ambulance & paramedics to where we were.
Thank you to the young girl on her skateboard who passed by, and stayed just to quietly hold a big umbrella over us as it rained. Her smiles of comfort for our 4 yr old daughter helped so much, too. (Thanks to, I think, her dad, who gave us the umbrella to keep when the paramedics got there.)
Thank you to the man who stopped to ask what our son’s fav show was, so he could pull it up on his phone to help him stop crying. (Who knew I would be actually grateful for damn Blippi.)
Thank you to the man who stopped and said he lived nearby, if we needed to take our son there or if he needed to run home to grab first-aid supplies.
Thank you to the paramedics for their ongoing work in the world right now, in this situation, and for giving him a teddy bear after he wouldn’t stop crying in the ambulance.
Thank you to this rainbow for showing up immediately after the ambulance left, carting my son off to the hospital, and making me feel all the feels. 😭❤️🌈
Everyone’s fine now and home (with stitches) and we are grateful.
Don’t give up on humanity. We met a lot of helpers tonight. 🙏❤️🙌🏼
June 25, 2020 – Church.
Pausing along the Maple Ridge / Pitt Meadows Dyke trails to breathe in the mountain fog.
Right now, this is my church.
On my bike, sweating down these trails, God and I have it out.
Almost every day.
My most visceral aches.
My wildest dreams.
My tender hopes.
My loud celebrations
My beautiful questions,
Something about this mountain air,
We can do this.
We can do hard things.
I hope you’re hanging in there, friends.
And I hope you are finding your church too. ❤️🌈 🚲
May 25, 2020 – Human Doing.
This quarantine time has made me see I am way better at being a human DOING, rather than a human BEING. I like to be busy. I don’t like to be still and feel hard things. It’s ugh, and uncomfortable. But this time is teaching me that’s exactly what I need to do.
Feel it. Stay with it. See what it can teach you.
This illustration came to me when I jogged passed one of my fav trees this week. Man, it felt good to dig out my pencils & ink pens and lose myself on paper. (Drawing on toothy watercolour paper is also really satisfying. My Moleskine sketchbook was full so I had to – happy accident.)
Hope everyone remembers to slow down! Love to you all.
Jan 18, 2020 – It’s being a parent.
Sometimes being an artist for a living and a hobby can get tough. I often struggle to get out what’s in my head, and I am usually (always) super critical of myself and my work. I don’t often feel like what was in my head was successfully transmitted to the screen or paper… but I’m learning to be easier and more encouraging towards myself! Perfectionism is a tough & bumpy road.
When I have a big deadline looming ahead (as I do now), I feel frozen and overwhelmed. I start to doubt myself and feel creatively stuck. When this happens, I tell myself (usually Tams will tell me!) to take a break and go write. It helps to clear my head and be creative in a way that flows much easier for me.
Here’s something I wrote about parenting two years ago, and this morning while on a much-needed break, I edited it. (I’m also trying not to judge or assess it!) Hope some other parents out there can see themselves in the words. ❤
it’s a small warm hand on your neck
it’s sticky items in your pocket
it’s moments of no patience, then immediate unbridled love
it’s wiping big tears away, then chasing joy around the corner
it’s overwhelming doubts if you can do this
it’s big eyes staring silently at you to love them
it’s no answers, yet all the questions you never thought of
it’s sitting down to eat, and never getting to eat
it’s deep breaths & pep talks & breakdowns
it’s playing dress-up & funny dances & being silly because that’s all there is
it’s a little hand reaching up for help, knowing you’ll grab it
it’s a tiny toddler plopping themselves in your lap
it’s no personal space, fingerprints on your glasses & stains on your clothes
it’s a rollercoaster of emotions, then a gentle gliding of a canoe
it’s never feeling ready, yet somehow you already are
it’s rediscovering soft sheep’s wool, the joy of a puppy playing & the crunch of leaves
it’s letting your soul be fueled by the small voice calling “Mommy?”
it’s holding tight onto the big hugs until they let go
it’s learning to let go and see how much they teach you
it’s that feeling that you are a little being’s everything
it’s unbelievably hard
it’s so beautiful you ache
it’s all so worth it
…………….. it’s being a parent
Stacey Chomiak © 2020
Nov 12, 2019 – Be the helpers.
Back in September, my wife Tams was out with our kids on a couple different occasions, and total strangers made very angry & unkind comments. One was from a lady angry she would bring a stroller into a store, and the second was after Hudson made an excited scream in a coffee shop. (Also, he’s not two yet, and very excited about life.)
I was frustrated these happened, within a week of each other, as this has been a totally exhausting and lonely stage of parenting – especially for Tams, when I am away working. So I wrote this post below as a response, on social media. It got picked up by the local news, which I will link at the bottom. (If you read the comments, many people missed the point of why I wrote this… but I guess it’s not for them, then.)
There are no perfect kids, there are no perfect parents and there are no perfect people. But there is always room to exercise empathy and be a bit more kind with each other. Let’s try.
Friends, can we chat for a sec?
Mr. Rogers said, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”
I’m wondering today, can we do one better? Instead of just looking for the helpers, can we BE THE HELPERS?
Most of you read about @tamschomiak recent run-in with the random people in the local coffee shop, asking why she would bring our (loud) kids in there. It was really upsetting.
Today she was in a thrift shop with the kids and another random lady said “Why the hell would you come in here with that g*d awful stroller and two kids?” & gave Tams the most angry look. Sigh.
Friends, we can do better. We are all a little (lot) tired and sad and maybe just plain angry with the state of the world right now.
BUT WE CAN DO BETTER.
My warrior of a wife just wanted to take our kids on an outing, which in itself is NO SMALL FEAT just to get out the door, let me tell you. Like SO MANY parents out there, she’s constantly exhausted, she’s emotionally depleted, she’s feeling weary in the thick fog of parenting two young, bright, healthy, loud, enthusiastic, boisterous toddlers. She often has to manage things on her own, so I can focus on the projects I’m juggling, and she flipping rocks that job better than any Mama I know. But frankly, this has been a really tough season of life for us both.
Comments like these, they are so discouraging. Sometimes it only takes a mildly annoyed comment to plummet someone into depression, or just plain ruin the rest of their day. Don’t be the straw that breaks someone’s back. I refuse to be.
Waiting for your coffee, passing people on the street, around your co-workers… just do better. Smile more. Encourage people. Say thank you & mean it. Ask people how they are. Be gentler with each other, you don’t know what hurt may be hiding beneath the surface. Decide to care, just a little, about people your energy interacts with from day to day. Every interaction, big or small, makes a difference. EVERY ONE.
The only way this world will get better is if WE DECIDE TO BE BETTER.
And if you think of it, send a thumbs up to my wife to remind her she’s a freaking rockstar. ❤️
— with Tammy Chomiak.
Sept 5, 2019 – Being a guest on “Blessed Are the Feminists” podcast.
A few weeks ago, the kind folks at the “Blessed Are the Feminists” podcast invited me to be a guest, and talk about my experiences with Christian feminism, having LGBTQ faith and being a gay Christian mama.
It was such a great conversation, and I think, so important to have right now! The episode aired Sept 1, and can be heard on their website here. Or look them up on iTunes & Spotify to subscribe! Follow them on instagram & twitter @holyfeminists!
Here’s a few tweets they put out about my episode:
May 12, 2019 – I got an agent!
Friends, I have some really exciting news!
A couple years ago, after listening to a particularly motivating Super Soul Sunday, the message was “If you can dream it, you can achieve it.”
So I went into my office, and wrote these three dreams that were hidden in my heart on a piece of paper:
1 – I will support my family through my art.
2 – I will help people and share my truth with my art.
3 – I will illustrate and publish kids books.
I signed it, and tacked it up in the corner of my little office at home, in a place where I would always see it when working at the computer.
Last Thursday early morning, I sent out my art and book idea to a few places, following some inner motivation that I couldn’t shake. By Thursday afternoon, to my utter disbelief, I had two offers of representation from agencies in New York City.
After talking to both agencies on the phone and email, and getting over the shock at their enthusiasm to work with ME (??!), I had a really great problem in front of me. Thank you to my inner circle of friends (and of course Tams!) who helped make this decision clear.
This morning I signed a contract with Claire Draper from The Bent Agency in NYC, and I could not be more excited.
This feels like the beginning of a whole new road for me and for my family. To everyone I have ever worked with, or call a friend, thank you for always believing in me!
Let’s do this!!