Six blindfolded men were brought to an elephant and asked to touch different parts of it. One man touched the leg. Another touched the tail. Another the ear, and so on. Each man was then asked to describe what they thought they were touching.

One said, “This is thin, long, and scaly like a snake. I must be touching a snake.”
Another said, “This is thick and sturdy like a tree trunk. I feel the bark. I must be touching a tree trunk.”
Yet another said, “This is flat, thin, and flexible like a leaf. I must be touching a large leaf.”

Each man was right in describing his experience, yet at the same time, each was wrong. None could see the bigger picture—they were all touching different parts of the same elephant.

This ancient story from Buddhist texts is often used to explain religion: how different perspectives lead to different interpretations, all of which can be both true and incomplete at the same time. But this isn’t just about religion. This is about life itself.

We all go through life with blindfolds of our own—our perspectives shaped by our upbringing, culture, and personal experiences. We believe what we’ve been taught, what we’ve seen, and what we’ve lived. But our understanding is always limited until we step outside our own perspective, listen to others, and see the world through different eyes.

When My Blindfold Was Removed

Growing up, my family was deeply religious, especially after immigrating to the U.S. By high school, I went to church every Sunday and prayed twice a day. At the time, the church did not accept gay people. Honestly, I don’t even know if I can say it’s fully accepting now, but I do know that many more people understand.

Back then, I had never met someone who was openly gay. I hadn’t even encountered someone I thought was gay. Sexuality wasn’t something I truly understood—not even my own. So, I held the beliefs I had been taught, the ones my church instilled in me. I believed that being gay was a choice. That’s not what I believe now.

When I started college, I moved into my dorm and met a gay man who lived across the hall. We became instant friends. It felt like a soul reunion, as if I had known him in another life.

The more I got to know him, the more I saw his light shine through. And the more I realized that what my church had told me about gay people simply wasn’t true. Whatever people think the Bible says about gay people—I believe it has been misinterpreted. But all I can say for certain is this:

Gay people are not condemned to hell.
Gayness is not a sin.
And I know that as a fact.

My perspective changed because I experienced the truth firsthand. Before, everything I thought I knew was theoretical. But once I had real, human connection—once I saw—I understood.

A Lesson in Courage

Not only did I come to respect gay people, but I began to admire them.

I saw in them a level of strength, courage, and wisdom that I hadn’t yet found in myself. They lived their truth—even when the world threatened them with rejection, jail, and eternal damnation. They stood firm and said, “This is who I am. If you don’t accept me, that’s your loss.”

Meanwhile, I wasn’t even sure if I could be myself authentically.

That realization changed me. It made me question everything I thought I knew. It made me see the limits of my own perspective.

Like the blindfolded men touching the elephant, I had only been seeing one small part of reality. Meeting my friend was like removing the blindfold.

And that’s the beauty of life—when we listen, when we learn, when we allow ourselves to grow, we begin to see the bigger picture.