In his new bombshell autobiography, Devout: Losing My Faith to Find Myself, pop singer David Archuleta writes with heartbreaking candor — admitting that at times he even wept while typing — about his life-long battles with poor self-esteem, extreme people-pleasing, scrupulosity (a subtype of OCD characterized by religious obsession), guilt and denial regarding his closeted queerness, and eventually suicidal ideation, before he finally came out at age 30 and then left the Mormon church.

But he says the two topics that were the most difficult for him to write about were actually his ”terrifying” run on American Idol (memories of which he’d almost entirely blocked out) and his fraught relationship with his notorious father and “dadager,” Jeff Archuleta.

“I had not yet processed my time on American Idol, which I think I associate a lot with my relationship with my dad,” he explains softly.

Back in 2008, when David was a frontrunner on Idol and the show still dominated pop culture, Jeff practically made TMZ and VoteForTheWorst.com headlines more often than David did — all about being him an overbearing “stage dad” who quickly created enemies on the Idol set (and was even ultimately banned from the set). And Devout reveals that such gossip was actually true. A man with deferred dreams of his own greatness, Jeff forced his talented but extremely shy child into the spotlight — dragging David from Utah to Los Angeles (where they often slept in parked cars instead of hotel rooms) to audition for Star Search and loiter in hotel lobbies hoping to network with American Idol Season 1 contestants and executives.

Such aggressive tactics actually worked, and David ended up competing on Idol Season 7, when he was just 16, making it all the way to second place. But David resented his controlling father’s pushiness and manipulation (as did the rest of the Archuleta family; Jeff’s laser-focus on his son’s singing career alienated not only David’s four siblings, but David’s own adored mother, Lupe). It was understandably stressful for someone so young and introverted to perform for votes on national TV while fearing he’d be “exposed” for being different and effeminate; to feel responsible for fulfilling his dad’s ambitions; to feel pressured to be a Mormon posterboy; and to eventually become the family’s breadwinner, after he signed a deal with Jive Records and continued to be managed by Jeff. It was only many years later, when a Mormon church elder warned David that he was being emotionally abused by his father and advised that David go no-contact, that David realized how extreme the situation truly was.

However, it was when writing Devout (which he was inspired to do by his good friend, former child star and I’m Glad My Mom Died memoirist Jeanette McCurdy) that David finally unpacked the secret that lay at the heart of his familial dysfunction. “[Jeff] was wrongly accused of things in my family that I didn’t really get a clear picture on until I was older, putting everything together and realizing, ‘This is a messy situation. This is complex,’” he says.

When David was 9 years old, a vindictive family friend on Lupe’s side falsely accused Jeff of sexually molesting David’s sisters, which had tragic, lasting ramifications for the entire family — especially for David, who came to fear and mistrust his father for years, long after Jeff was exonerated. And while David may never forgive the people who spread these vicious lies (as he discusses this family scandal during his Lyndsanity interview, his anger is evident), by writing Devout, he came to understand Jeff’s trauma… and forgive his father.

In the emotional video interview above and text Q&A below, David also opens up about watching his American Idol episodes for the first time in years and feeling newfound compassion for his younger self; how his fellow Season 7 contestant, the openly queer Adore Delano, made him “so seen and safe” during his Idol experience; and how he finally started living for himself at the late-blooming age of 30.

LYNDSANITY: We’ve done a lot of interviews in the five years since you came out and reinvented yourself professionally and personally. But as I found out from reading this book, you’d lived nine lives before that happened. You lived several lives even before American Idol. But it seems like you really started living at age 30.

DAVID ARCHULETA: It very much was like starting life again. In ways I was a late bloomer, but in other ways a lot of life had already been lived. There’s a lot of challenges. There’s a lot of public knowledge of parts of my life, while other parts I felt like I had to do everything to hide. Not just my family dynamics, but hiding from myself, with trying to figure out whether I was gay or not, and landing on bisexual — I just say “queer” now, to be broader, but it’s basically bisexual — and just feeling like I always had to live my life for someone else, for someone else’s approval. “Are you giving me the OK? Did I do this right?” I guess it was performative. Always performing. And I guess I never turned the performative part off until I reached my thirties. It was kind of like learning how to just finally exhale, after holding your breath for so long, and just saying, “OK, what’s it like to just be myself, regardless of what others may think of that?”

And it’s terrifying. It’s scary, because up until then, my whole identity was, “Do you like me? Do you approve of who I am? I will do whatever I need, I will be whoever you need me to be, in order to be accepted by you and approved by you and to be told, ‘Good job.’” To turn that off was terrifying, because I didn’t know how to live my life in another way.That’s why it was like restarting, because it’s like, “Oh, I’m going to live my life based off of what feels right to me.” Something I never believed I could trust, really. But yeah, it’s been so fun and exciting to just live. I feel so excited about life. Before, I was always so afraid of life.

Yes, a recurring theme in this book is you were a people-pleaser, whether you were trying to gain the approval of the Mormon church, American Idol voters, or especially your dad. As I said, I’ve interviewed you several times in recent years, mostly about either your sexuality or your changing relationship with religion, which are of course big focuses of Devout. But today, I want to talk about what you say were your two hardest things to write about: your father and American Idol. I’ll start by asking, why was that the case?

It’s probably because I already processed my sexuality, but I hadn’t yet processed the dynamic with my dad. And I had not yet processed my time on American Idol, which I think I associate a lot with my relationship with my dad. The way I coped to move forward with my life was simply to cut out a lot of that. Originally I didn’t [write] as much about American Idol [in Devout]; I talked more about my family dynamics and my religion, my growing up in Utah. And the publishers were like, “Hey, we would really love for you to talk more about your time on American Idol.” And it was just very uncomfortable.

I’m not saying it was a horrible experience. It was just extremely uncomfortable to go through. So, I went back and rewatched all of my American Idol episodes, and I experienced the cringe — but mixed with the cringe, this time I was feeling something new, which was compassion for the teenager that was there on that stage feeling so exposed, so uncomfortable, and really terrified. I mean, I was terrified to be on there, because I was so afraid of people seeing me for the “problem” that I was, that I thought I was. I mean, at the time, it was the problem that I was.

Do you mean people thinking you were a sissy? I’ll use the term “sissy” instead of a meaner one, but do you mean outing you, or figuring out what you maybe hadn’t even figured out about yourself yet?

Yeah, exactly. I think people labeling and deciding what I was, before I even understood what it was. It felt, again, like a loss of control — that I didn’t have control over the pacing of my life. I think that’s what was hard about American Idol. I was being forced to move at a much quicker pace than I was ready for. But I still did it because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and I didn’t want to let people down, especially my dad. It was everything for him that I was there. He felt like I was finally experiencing what he always knew about me. He’s like, “David, you are one of the best singers in the world!” I was like, “Oh my God, Dad. There are plenty of singers out there. There’s Celine Dion, there’s Whitney Houston, there’s Mariah Carey, there’s Stevie Wonder. I’m not one of the greatest singers in the world!” But doing so well on that show for my dad was just like, “See what I told you? Didn’t I tell you?”

The irony is, even though Jeff was such a taskmaker that he made you almost hate music at times, like he sucked the joy out of it for you, you still do music for a living now. And you seem to enjoy it more than ever. And your whole music career might not have happened if Jeff hadn’t been such an aggressive stage dad. So, yeah, in some ways he was “right” to do what he did. How do you come to terms with all that? You must feel quite torn.

You are so right. And that’s a great observation that you’ve made. There’s a lot of resentment that I had had for my dad, but I couldn’t help but acknowledge that if it weren’t for his hardheadedness and his stubbornness and intensity… I’m a much more gentle personality. I’m a lot more passive. I’m still intense and passionate, but as far as my convictions, they just were not anywhere near the same level as where my dad’s were. He believed that I deserved to have success, and he believed that he deserved to see success from his son.

I didn’t have that same fire. I didn’t have that same drive. I wasn’t as motivated. I was just kind of fine to go with the flow. That’s just how I had always been. I did love music, but I was very shy. I was shy to sing in front of people, and my dad always pushed me to sing for people. I hated him for it, I resented it, and yet it taught me to go out of my comfort zone and take risks and do things that I didn’t always feel like doing because I didn’t feel like I was capable of doing it. It’s not necessarily that I didn’t want to sing. I just didn’t think I was good enough. I didn’t think I had the personality. I didn’t think I had the talent, abilities. I just questioned myself and second-guessed myself way too much to really do anything about it, whereas my dad was like, “No, we are doing this!” …That’s exactly what my dad was for me. To make it, especially in the entertainment industry, you need that.

Well, he got the ball rolling and put you on a path you might not have been on otherwise, but even after Idol, him being your manager created problems. Are there ways that he might’ve sabotaged you professionally — maybe that you didn’t even realize until later — where you feel like your career might’ve turned out differently if he hadn’t been in the picture?

Absolutely. I feel like while he helped start the first momentum for my career, he had very much an us-against-the-world mentality. It’s “us-against-them,” which I think stems from how we were raised with our beliefs … always being taught that the entertainment industry was “evil.” I think he was just kind of waiting to see all the “evil” people, so he treated everyone as if they were evil. “These are bad people who want something. They probably want to take advantage of my son.” And there are probably a lot of people who did. But I think at the same time, my dad didn’t realize that he, of all people, was the one who was taking the most advantage of me.

And I think because he was my dad, he thought, “Well, this is my son. I know what’s best for him, and I only want the best for him.” It’s like his vision was blurred by that sentiment, to not realize that a lot of my grief was coming from my dynamic with him and the way he was treating me, and how he didn’t recognize his own greed in some of those moments. And I don’t think he’s even in a place to recognize all of that, because in his eyes, he was just a dad trying to protect his son.

I assume he’s read your book by now.

No, he hasn’t. I’ll send one to him today. I’m actually sending all my copies out today.

Wow. I mean, Devout isn’t completely bashing Jeff, but you really go there. I actually surprised how much you went there. I thought you’d focus more on either your American Idol era or your post-coming out era, but I’d say the core of Devout is about your unhealthy family dynamic, namely with your father. I’m shocked that he hasn’t read it yet. How do you think he’s going to react?

I wanted to finish my story and publish it without any exterior influence on what my story is. I’ve been told many times what my story is and isn’t by others, and I did not want anyone distracting me from that. I knew my dad would have heavy opinions about it, because his perspective is different from mine. I’ve heard his perspective many times; it’s time for me to share mine. I’ve tried to share my perspective with him before, and he would get too defensive. He would feel like I was attacking him, so he wouldn’t hear me. He would speak over me. He felt a need to protect himself from the accusations he felt I was making against him. And my dad, he has trauma with accusations. He was wrongly accused of things in my family that I didn’t really get a clear picture on until I was older, putting everything together and realizing, “This is a messy situation. This is complex.’”

Just to make it very clear, your dad was falsely accused of child molestation, but it broke my heart to read that you always wondered back in the back of your mind, “Is my dad a bad guy? Is there any truth to this?” Has Jeff been given any heads up about how deep you go into all this in your book?

Well, part of the legal aspect of writing this book is like, “Hey, you say a lot of heavy things about your dad, and this could be really serious.” So, my collaborator Val [Valerie Frankel] joined me on a call and recorded a conversation I had with my dad and one of my sisters. I was really worried because I thought, “My dad does not want to talk about this. He’s moved on from this.” This is like 20 years ago that this happened. It’s not always the healthiest thing to go back and dig up the past. But I felt like this was necessary in order to find relief for my sisters, especially my older sister. She wasn’t the one on the call, but she was the one who was wrongly labeled as a victim of my dad, when it was actually someone else [in the family] who she was a victim of. And when she spoke up for herself, which I was so proud of her for doing, when she was young, she was silenced, because people were like, “Oh, you didn’t say what we wanted you to say.” And then for my other sister to have been bribed with a doll, trying to get her to talk poorly about my dad… she didn’t understand why.

When I was writing the book, I had to retract a lot of things because it was too much, and just for legal purposes. But I encountered some of the people in that circle of my family, like family and friends that were close to my mom and her side that kind of instigated all this, and I was just like, “I just am trying to understand. You were all so set on what my dad did. Can you give me some clarity? When did this happen? What did you see that made you convince 9-year-old me that I had to be on your side to get my dad into prison? Because that’s really affected me psychologically.” And it did affect me psychologically. I think the biggest thing that people saw on my time on American Idol was me being afraid of my dad — that narrative. And I was still processing it as a 9-year-old, because I didn’t get to really fully process it.

I didn’t understand what was bad about my dad. I just knew that touch was bad. So, if my dad touched me, if he would just put his hand on my shoulder, I thought that was bad. And that’s really the most he ever did to me physically. If he was standing by me, I just thought, “Don’t touch me.” It really messed with me psychologically. Now I’m finally in my thirties confronting these people, and I was just like, “What did you see that caused you to be so concerned?” And they said, “Oh, we actually didn’t see anything.” I was so pissed off. Fucking pissed. I was like, “You realize you destroyed our family, because you convinced us that we needed to look at our dad as if he were a monster!” And it was like, “Well, your dad was this way and he’s rude and he was insulting.” And I was like, “That does not justify accusing him of child molestation. He can be an asshole. He’s a jerk. He says crass things. He doesn’t respect people’s feelings. He says a lot of very rude things. We can acknowledge that that is a problem and that he can be manipulative and he can be controlling. But that does not justify accusing him of being a child molester.” It doesn’t.

Of course.

And when I saw the way that accountability was deflected, I was so mad. I was like, “You guys let us believe that for decades!”

I’m mad for you and for your family, just hearing about this!

And their answer was, “Well, God knows our hearts, and God’s the judge.” And I’m like, “I don’t think this is God knowing your heart was in the right place, because what you did was wrong, and you’re not willing to own up to that what you did was horrible.”

Have the people who started this chain of false accusations read the book? Do they know that you’re …

Everyone I talk about knows I talk about them. And a lot of them aren’t happy about it. But when I told my dad, I was like, “Dad, I need to get some information about this. I don’t know if this is too touchy of a subject, but I talk about the accusations that were made about you by some of the circle of our family and family friends.” My dad said, “I would actually love to talk about this. I felt like no one ever asked about my experience with that.” And we didn’t [talk about it back then], because the attitude was just, “Let’s just move on, let’s forgive and forget.” And so, my dad was relieved to talk about it now.

I interviewed my mom as well. My mom was just like, “David, why do you feel like you have to talk about this?” It was a very traumatizing experience for her. She didn’t know who to believe. There were two sides of people she loved and trusted, and they were contradicting each other. And she’s like, “Do I side with my circle of my people that I grew up with, or do I side with my husband?” It was very difficult for her to know what to do, and it broke her. She just shut down, and she didn’t recover from that for years. The marriage wasn’t the same after that. My mom basically was just checked-out. She stopped. She was in bed so much of the time. Her depression was really heavy.

And after that, my dad had a lot of frustration. It wasn’t until then that my relationship with my dad became complicated. Before that, he was just my dad. I loved him. We got along really well. There wasn’t this weird dynamic between me and my singing. It just felt like normal. I think my dad became more obsessed with my career and my singing when he needed an escape and an outlet from watching that his family was falling apart and knowing it was probably never going to recover. That’s when he started taking me to California and chasing this dream.

But at that point, my mom was like me: She was confused and she didn’t know what to believe. And no one ever listened to my sisters. So, it wasn’t until my thirties that my mom finally got clarity too about what happened. When I was first writing the book and talking to my mom about it, she’s like, “Well, I guess we’ll never know.” I was like, “Mom, you’ve heard [David’s older sister] Claudia. You’ve heard [David’s younger sister] Jazzy. You should talk to them again, hear their story.” And she did. It was really hard for my mom to revisit because she was just like, “If I learned the truth, it means that my family and my family friends were lying to me.” I think my mom never wanted to have to come to terms to that. But she finally was just like, “I realize I need to be there for my children. And if it means making it a messier dynamic with the people I always grew up with and loved, so be it.”

It was hard. But this all happened while I was writing the book. … When I first started writing, I didn’t know. I was like, “I still don’t know if my dad molested my sisters or not.” And I talked to my sisters and I was like, “Well, Claudia’s always said that Dad never did anything to her, but maybe she was hypnotized or something.” But if [my family] really cared about my sister being a victim, they would care about who she did remember touching her and the multiple accounts that she does remember of [her actual molester]. … Oh my God, I was just so pissed off. So pissed off.

I can hear and see your anger, and I don’t blame you. But you did finally get some answers. You got closure. And I know you were or no- or low-contact with your father for some time, and maybe you still aren’t the best of friends, but I was very pleasantly surprised to read about your dad’s reaction when you came out five years ago. I would’ve expected him to be livid, or say you’re ruining your career, but he was actually super-supportive. That was the absolute opposite of what I would’ve expected from him, and maybe of what you would’ve expected. That’s pretty huge.

Right. At that point, I had not been talking to my dad for a few years. And I think those boundaries were what we needed. We needed to have space to grow away from the toxic codependency that we had in our relationship. Having that space allowed him to become his own person. It allowed me to become my own person. … And just for my dad to only have positive things to say — to say, “I’m proud of you, son, and I support you” — it made me realize that my dad isn’t who I thought he was when I was younger. I thought he just was there to put me down and degrade me and think the worst of me all the time. And that wasn’t the case.

He just was a hurt person at the time. He had a lot to figure out during American Idol. My dad didn’t have a lot of close friends that he could talk to. His family was falling apart. My mom had left right before American Idol; she only came back because the kids needed someone to be there at the home [while I was in Los Angeles doing the show]. But my mom had wanted out of the marriage for a while. My dad’s best friend died while I was on American Idol, too, and that tore him up. And I think it just made him dive even more into getting lost in the world of David.

photo: Joseph Adivari

Your father didn’t always do things right, but as I said, he did put you on Idol, which changed your life in so many ways. In fact, the first LGBTQ+ person you ever discussed homosexuality with was one of your fellow Idol contestants. She’s now known as Adore Delano, who found much greater fame on RuPaul’s Drag Race, and has since transitioned. But as you clarify in your book, you spoke with her and she gave you permission to refer to her in context as Danny Noriega, which was her name when she competed on American Idol Season 7. And Danny was very out, very opposite of the childhood you’d had. I think for a lot of kids watching at home, seeing someone like Danny Noriega make the top 16 on a mainstream TV show was a big deal. And meeting her made a big impression on you as well.

Yeah. I was very devout, focused on my beliefs, Mormon at the time. And Danny was a year older than me. And so, with Adore, I saw her life and I thought, “That’s wrong.” And yet at the time I was like, “I feel so seen and safe with this person. I don’t even understand why.” I didn’t understand that I could relate to an extent of what her experience was, to an extent of being misunderstood for your sexuality or your identity. We both could relate to each other, but I felt like I could somewhat pass and blend in. Danny couldn’t. Adore couldn’t. Adore was a lot more flamboyant naturally than I was. She couldn’t hide. She just had to be herself. She had to get bullied. She had to get the brunt of it. She had to get called all kinds of names to her face all the time. And she learned how to be tough and to fight. In school, she would get in a lot of fights because of it, but it’s because she was just like, “I’m not going to let other people tell me what I am. I’m not going to let them decide whether I am worthy of being here or not.”

I admired that so much, because I was letting everyone decide for me. I was hiding. I was doing everything I could to be what I wasn’t. And I didn’t understand the scope of that; I didn’t understand it at the time and who I was. I was in very much denial, which is why I didn’t understand why I related to Adore. I just knew I could let my guard down with her. And yeah, I’m so grateful. She didn’t pressure me. She didn’t try to push me. I think sometimes people feel like, “A-ha! I knew [that David Archuleta was queer]!” And it’s like, OK, cool. I didn’t. I needed my time to figure that out.

I’m so glad you did.

Thank you!

On that American Idol season, George Michael performed on the finale. By then he was out, and now he’s considered an LGBTQ+ pioneer. But he had been outed in a way that at the time was considered disgraceful and scandalous. Do you have any memories of George that day? Did he make an impression on you?

Unfortunately, George didn’t allow any of us to be on the stage, and he didn’t even want us on the stage with him when we were singing his songs. He wanted everyone off the stage by the time he was there. He did not want to interact with any of us; I don’t know why. So, I didn’t really think anything of him [back then]. I didn’t really know his music and I didn’t really appreciate him. I didn’t think too much else of it because I was just like, “OK, this guy doesn’t want to even interact with us on our show.” It wasn’t until I came out that I really became a fan of George Michael and appreciated his music, his message, his journey, what he had to go through with the public scrutiny. At a time when it wasn’t yet accepted, he was bold to be himself. I went back and listened to his music and I was just like, “Oh, this makes so much sense now.” It spoke to me, and it was the motivation I needed. I played “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me” on repeat, as well as “The Voice Within” by Christina Aguilera, the day I came out. They just became my anthems.

Well, what George Michael’s music did for you when you were beginning your coming-out journey, maybe your music can do that for someone now. I think your story is going to help a lot of people.

Thank you. I hope so. I hope it’s encouraging for somebody out there. That’s the whole goal.

This Q&A has been edited for brevity and clarity.

At the time, Archuleta wasn’t quite sure why he was so terrified. But some American Idol viewers seemed to figure it out years before he actually did.

“I feel like a lot of people watched and they’re like, ‘Oh, there’s something off about this kid. He seems a little gay or a little queer,’” Archuleta muses. “A lot of people saw, I think, the internal struggle of, ‘OK, this kid is clearly struggling with something,’ and I think a lot of people could relate to it. But for me, I was in denial. I [was] just trying to be a good Mormon boy.”

Archuleta eventually came out as queer in 2021 — after years of trying to come to terms with his sexuality and, like many closeted LDS kids, even seriously contemplating suicide — and he then left Church of Latter-day Saints, in which he’d been raised his entire life. And now, he’s finally embracing his sensuality and heartthrob status, as evidenced by the thirst-trapping cover art for Earthly Delights, his first collection of new music in more than five years. Right now, both professionally and personally, Archuleta, at age 34, is in what he calls full “indulgence mode”: exploring romances with men, going clubbing, taking mushrooms and Molly at raves and music festivals, definitely making up for lost time, and basically just living his best life.

photo: Irvin Rivera

“I wish I would’ve known that it wasn’t as dangerous to live life, to the point where it was like, ‘What if I mess up my life by drinking and doing drugs?’ But at least from a religious perspective, even alcohol and drugs is ‘better’ than being gay, so I’ve already done the ‘worst’ thing, so let me try that,” Archuleta shrugs. “The fact that I almost took my life before because I thought I could get in trouble, that I almost took my life away because I was so afraid to be gay — now I’m like, why not take risks? I almost got myself in trouble and ended up dying, almost willingly took [my life] away because I thought it was worse to be gay than to experience life. I don’t know how long life is, so every day from this point on just feels like a bonus to me. I just want to live it to the fullest and experience it and feel a little rebellious. To even live feels like a rebellion now, because I’m living as a queer person. … But in that rebellion, you find strength, you find confidence in yourself to be more comfortable in your own skin.”

In the candid Q&A below, Archuleta opens up about the unlikely journey — from quiet, conflicted, closeted Mormon kid to bona fide LGBTQ+ sex symbol — that has led to his Earthly Delights EP.

LYNDSANITY: I love the Earthly Delights cover art. It’s very  ‘70s/‘80s heartthrob. It’s giving Andy Gibb, George Michael. And I think the sexy, retro vibe speaks to the contents within.

DAVID ARCHULETA: Thank you. … I wanted it to feel sexy. I wanted it to feel flirty, a little enticing, and I feel like we accomplished that.

You were a heartthrob on American Idol, but obviously in a very different way. Does it surprise you that since you started having what people call your “glow-up,” there have been all these thirsty articles about you in Queerty and Out — even when you just post a simple shirtless workout pic on Instagram?

I appreciate that they feel even a desire to talk about me. I wish it was more interesting, maybe. But if they’re watching, then I hope that there’s more to come with the music coming out. That’s the stuff that I get more excited about sharing. … People used to talk about me being a teenage heartthrob when I was younger, but I was so out of touch with my sexuality back then that I really didn’t have any sexy charisma, flirty charisma — any charisma, period. Because I was so avoidant of it. I was really out of touch with my feelings — but intentionally, because I was so afraid of them. … Basically, I had no sense of sexuality when I was 16, 17.

I’m sure there were boys who liked you too, but your fanbase was mostly young girls then. Do you look back on that now and go, “Oh, maybe one of the reasons why that didn’t sit so well with me or that it made me feel awkward was because girls weren’t my thing”?

Yeah, I mean, sometimes it felt like girls were my thing, and sometimes I still wonder if sometimes there’s a little bit of feeling… you’re curious, and you wonder. But at the time,  deep down I knew that if I explored those [romantic] feelings any more, that feelings for guys would start coming out. And so, I just simply was like, “I’m not even going to go there, then, because it’s dangerous.” I looked at it as a dangerous thing, and I think you could see me as kind of a deer in headlights a lot of times, because I was just like, “Let’s just not think about it.” … I was like, “I don’t know what I’m doing [to attract female attention], because if anything, I don’t want this attention!” Maybe that was the endearing part of [my appeal], because usually people are like, “Oh yeah, bring it on!” And I was so uncomfortable with it.

When you’re on a reality show like American Idol, especially back in 2008 when it was one of the biggest shows in the world, viewers feel like they really know you. Obviously now that we know everything about what’s happened in your life since then, we realize that we did not really know you. Maybe you didn’t even know yourself. That must’ve been weird for you.

Yeah, but I feel like a lot of people watched and they’re like, “Oh, there’s something off about this kid. He seems a little gay or a little queer.” I have people say that all the time. And I didn’t understand it because I was like, “Well, I’m not doing anything ‘gay.’” Now, being older, I know being queer or being gay is not about the way you act. … But a lot of people saw, I think, the internal struggle of, “OK, this kid is clearly struggling with something,” and I think a lot of people could relate to it. But for me, I was in denial. I’m just trying to be a good Mormon boy. There is no “gay.” A few years after I was on American Idol, within the Mormon community there was an apostle, one of the world church leaders, who infamously said, “There are no gay members of the church. There are just children of God. Stop using that label. There are no gay members.” And I kind of looked at that as, “Oh wow, what an inspiring message…”

Inspiring?

Yes, because at the time I was like, “Am I bisexual? Am I this? And I that?” And someone had sent that to me saying, “Look, this is what God thinks. There are no gay members, so stop trying to figure out whether you are this or that because you are a child of God.” But now I think that was just smoke-and-mirrors and distraction from the actual root of the issue. Because no, there clearly are still gay members and bisexual members and queer members of any group. They’re always going to be there, whether other people want them there or not. It’s part of our evolution and genetics to continue creating queer people. … For some reason, there are political advantages or to keep throwing queer people under the bus and say they’re “weird” and they’re “off” and they’re “bad,” but hopefully by this point a lot of people have seen that’s not the case. But then more fearmongering happens. I don’t know why queer people are continuously targeted, but they are. Maybe it’s just because it’s easy to put blame on people who there are less in numbers than the majority, to distract from the actual issues at hand.

The concept of Earthly Delights is you questioning the indoctrination of your youth, and it’s inspired by falling out of grace with your church and family. Some people actually believe that openly LGBTQ+ people can stay in the Mormon church and be accepted. Maybe that was not the case or choice for you, but do you think the Mormon church will evolve to a point where that could be possible?

There are already people who are queer that do it. … I just don’t feel like God’s truth is found in the Mormon church the way I was raised to believe it was initially. I don’t think people realize how much of a bubble you grow up in as a Mormon. … You have these beliefs as a Mormon where you’re not really supposed to get your sources of truth from outside of the religion. Like, if you hear other information from elsewhere, don’t trust it, because the church has all the truth you need and is the most correct, most pure form of truth that you can get about life and the answers to it. So, if you’re looking for questions about what your beliefs are, don’t look it up online. Don’t look it up in books. Anything outside is trying to attack us. You kind of feel like you’re in this war mentality of it’s us-versus-them. … So, I grew up and I’m like, “Where can I find out about being queer and possibly being gay? Well, I guess I have to look on the church website, because that’s the only trustworthy source that I have that can give me the facts.” … And that’s why I was confused for longer than I needed to be about my sexuality, because I was letting church leaders and this bubble be my only source of information. And a lot of it is misinformation.

Your mother eventually accepted it after you came out and also left the church. But what about rest of your family?

My immediate family has been supportive. With extended family, it’s a little trickier. I had told my mom that I was gay a decade ago. Now, I identify just as being queer. It makes more sense to me. It feels more fitting. It’s not as black-and-white with sexuality. But when I first told her I was going to start dating guys, she said, “Honey, I love you, but I love God more, and I can’t accept this about you. God’s plan is for you to marry a woman.” And I said, “Mom, I get it. Up until a week ago, I believed all this too. I don’t need you to accept what I’m doing. I just want you to respect I’m making the best decision for me right now.” I think it’s important to know that to get to where you are, to be in a comfortable place, you may risk not being accepted by the people you love the most. And then you wonder, is it worth it? For me, it was worth it. At that point I was like, “What’s more important: my mom accepting me, or me accepting and improving myself?” Because I almost took my life because I was thinking it was better to reject myself.

So, at that point, I’d gone through enough of that mental trying to get through all that murkiness of how I perceived myself that I was like, “You know what? It doesn’t matter what my mom thinks.” And she told me what she thought. She said, “I love God more.” I was like, “Good for you, Mom. Regardless of what you think, I know what I’m doing with my life and it does not matter what anyone thinks at this point. I’m going to date guys.” I still cared about, “What if someone sees me dating a guy? Mormons are going to think I’m the worst thing!” But at the same time, I was willing to go through that uncomfortableness and stumble my way through it, because it mattered to me more to be myself, and to be honest and not despise myself and hate myself anymore for something that I was learning was completely unnecessary.

This new EP is all about embracing your sensual side. Do you feel like you’re making up for lost time? You were 30 when you came out, and you’re 34 now and in this whole new reboot of your life.

I definitely have been like, “Oh, I wish I knew this earlier. I wish I would’ve been fine coming out.” My gosh, I wish I would’ve known that it wasn’t as dangerous to live life, to the point where it was like, “What if I mess up my life by drinking and doing drugs?” But at least from a religious perspective, even alcohol and drugs is “better” than being gay, so I’ve already done the “worst” thing, so let me try that. … Let me go out and to go dancing and to clubs. I can’t believe that going to clubs was considered such an evil thing before! It so fun to go to a club.

What have been some of your most euphoric experiences since you’ve come out and left the church? On Instagram you always seem to be living your best life.

I’ve loved going to the music festivals and having fun and being able to partake of substances — I did mushrooms at an EDM festival — and just realize these things that may feel so scary, just be responsible with what you’re doing. … I’ve loved being able to do take ‘shrooms or roll on Molly at EDC and just have the best time and be like, “This is one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had!” And I was so afraid to be here or for 20 years of my life. From the age of 10 to 30, I was like, “Oh my gosh, this is the worst thing that I could put myself through.” Now just say, “OK, this was great.” I look at life differently. I have a different perspective on it, that life can be about just taking in a moment, seeing yourself surrounded with other people who are just enjoying and you feel connected to them and to life.

The fact that I almost took my life before because I thought I could get in trouble, that I almost took my life away because I was so afraid to be gay — now I’m like, why not take risks? I almost got myself in trouble and ended up dying, almost willingly took [my life] away because I thought it was worse to be gay than to experience life. I don’t know how long life is, so, every day from this point on just feels like a bonus to me. I just want to live it to the fullest and experience it and feel a little rebellious. To even live feels like a rebellion now, because I’m living as a queer person. … But in that rebellion, you find strength, you find confidence in yourself to be more comfortable in your own skin. You’re less judgmental of other people, and you feel like you’re more equal with others as well and can appreciate other people, other walks of life. And that’s what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to make the most of it, and trying to take that approach as an artist and as a musician as well. It’s easy to fall back into autopilot of how I started as a 17-year-old with the Mormon mentality, and I’m trying to grow out of that as a creator. It’s like, don’t put on the limits that you had when you were younger. Keep trying to let that creative juice flow and be free.

Some songs on Earthy Delights seem especially autobiographical. “Give You the World” is about being not totally ready to give someone your heart, although you’re obviously very attracted to them. And then there’s “Can I Call You,” which I don’t know if that’s about a specific person — it mentions someone in Atlanta and has some specific details. It must’ve been interesting and maybe sometimes difficult to start dating in the public eye as a newly out man, especially since you were navigating that at a later age. I imagine anyone dating you had to be very sensitive, understanding, and patient.

When I first started dating guys, I was very nervous about it. I was very scared, like, “Oh, what if people see me out in public?” You’re a lot more paranoid because you’re so used to this being a “bad” thing. Four years later, people still will say derogatory things, but I’m more comfortable in my own skin. I’m more self-aware. I don’t have the religious mentality influencing what I should and shouldn’t do or what I can and can’t do with my life. There were times where I was dating people where I was in the middle of processing all that and it was very heavy. I had to go through some major therapy to be able to deconstruct those very heavy, very strong beliefs that I was conditioned. It became very apparent that [those beliefs] still had a very strong control over my mind. Even though I’d left the religion, the mentality was very hard to remove it and reprogram.

And now this EP is all about pleasure and indulgence. Are there moments where you’re performing a song about desiring someone or taking off your clothes and it feels weird for you?

It’s such a subtle thing. because most people say, “Well, most music is like this!” But for me, this is such a big steppingstone, because to be in touch with my sensuality and my sexuality wasn’t a thing for me five years ago. To be talking about it is a big deal. … Sometimes I’m like, “Oh my gosh, I just said that!” But it is more fun for me than me feeling embarrassed by it.

photo: Nick Spanos

Do you still consider yourself, if not religious per se, spiritual in any way? Do you still believe in a higher power or an afterlife or anything like that?

I don’t really think too much about it, and that’s what I found peace with. … [Religion] is usually not based in anything. It’s usually more superstitions and the way people have explained things. That’s why it’s so important for me to live my life now. If there is an afterlife, I think God would base it on the good nature of people, rather than if they obeyed what their leader said. It would be more based on the heart of someone’s nature rather than if they checked everything off of a list. … An all-knowing and all-loving God would love everybody, and also understand what life circumstances someone has gone through, what is in someone’s chemical makeup, what mental challenges or mental inhibitions they have, what advantages that they’ve had in life, what makes someone struggle more. And I just feel like religion doesn’t do that. For me, religion is very contradictory to what it teaches about a God being, and for me, there’s comfort in knowing that. I don’t know if there is a God in the way that religion teaches it, but if there is, it is way above any religion that exists that people have adapted to their own advantages and cultures. The biggest reason I came out is I found peace between my religious beliefs and my sexuality, because I realized God is not what other people were saying God was. I found what I felt was an answer from God saying, “David, you need to stop asking to be changed and to be straight. That is not what I wanted for you. That’s not what you’re supposed to be straight. You were created to be queer and to be who you are.” And that’s something just a lot of religious people can’t fathom.

You came out during a very intolerant time. A lot of LGBTQ+ rights have been under fire during the past four years. Are you worried about that?

From what I see with LGBTQ+ history, it is nothing new. We’ve always had to fight to be seen and be present. I feel like any minority will always have to do that. … Unfortunately, the LGBTQ+ community will always be a “minority,” but … we will always consistently be here because evolution wants us to be here. We contribute to every single community because we tend to lean more artistic. There’s something about our variation of sensuality and feeling and emotions that makes us have a lot to offer in the arts. So, I hope people can look at it in that way too.

That’s very true. Which is interesting, because were on American Idol 17 years ago, even if you had been out, I don’t think your story would have been highlighted. I don’t think either producers or the viewers would have been receptive to it. Like, even just one season later, Adam Lambert was out in his personal life, but his sexuality was never mentioned on the show and when he was seen on Myspace kissing his boyfriend, it was a TMZ scandal. Now we have contestants who are gay and trans. There was even a top 10 contestant who performed in drag. But it’s still a conservative show. There’s still never been an openly gay winner on Idol, and there’s actually only been only one openly gay winner of The Voice, and that was literally last year in its 25th season. I’m curious about your thoughts on that, because many queer people watch these shows.

I think culturally too, remember that marriage between same sex-couples was illegal until the 2010’s in the whole of the U.S. … I think it’s just humankind understanding things and making more sense of life as we get information, explaining that what we thought was fact actually was just superstition. … It does seem like sometimes we take steps back and ignore some of the information we’ve received and go back to a more traditional [society], and I don’t know why, but that’s why you just have to be as vocal as you can be. Sometimes circumstances don’t allow you to be as vocal as you would like to be, but to have an audience that’s willing to listen and to have an open dialogue, sometimes you have to enter into a place where you’ll just be attacked, so you have to be mindful and sensitive to your surroundings. But I feel there’s still enough space for open dialogue, and that’s where we’re at currently. Who knows how things will look later in a few years? But I still feel like we’re in a good place.

This Q&A, which has been edited for brevity and clarity, originally ran on Gold Derby.

When David Archuleta became an overnight American Idol sensation at age 17, he also became a default “ambassador,” like it or not, for the Church of Latter-day Saints, in which he had been raised his entire life. So, when he made the high-profile decision to come out as LGBTQ+, and eventually leave the church, at age 30 — after years of trying to come to terms with his sexuality and, like many closeted LDS kids, even considering taking his own life — he feared a public backlash to the bombshell announcement. But he was even more concerned about how his devout mother might react.

Much to Archuleta’s surprise and relief, his mother, Lupe Marie Batholomew, told him, “I don’t want to be somewhere that my children don’t feel they’re accepted and loved. So, if you’re going to Hell, we’re all going to Hell with you.” In a show of solidarity, she even chose to leave the Mormon faith as well. That experience inspired Archuleta’s brand-new, gospel-tinged anthem, “Hell Together,” in which he croons, “If I have to live without you/I don’t wanna live forever/In someone else’s Heaven/So let ‘em close the gates.”

While much of the response from Archuleta’s fans, friends, and peers to “Hell Together” — and to his coming-out journey in general — has been positive, the singer admits to Music Times that “a lot of people [in the Mormon community] have been upset with my song coming out. But you know what? I’m just telling my story about what my mom said to me. I’m not teaching doctrine here! … Even though I’ve said I’ve left the church, people still look at me as this ambassador for the church that I grew up in. I’m trying to make a point that that’s not my responsibility anymore. I’m a different person now. … It’s not my job to represent the church. I already said I walked away from it. And they’re like, ‘Well, then stop talking about it!’ But how can I not talk about something that was a part of my life?”

Three years after coming out, Archuleta still “can’t shut up” about his truth. And he won’t shut up — because, as he notes, “I was never told to be quiet about what I believe,” plus he knows his story might help others in the church who are struggling. “That’s why I say if this [song] is causing a bit of a stir, so be it, because I think it needs to happen,” he asserts. “If I can make it visible and if I take a bunch of blows for it, then I’m totally fine. I’m prepared for it and it’s fine, if it saves someone’s life because they feel like they can exist and they can be seen. … I think this song is helping create that space, and I’m glad.”

David’s forthcoming, sure-to-be-page-turning memoir will delve even deeper in the life stories that he is currently telling through song, but in the meantime, the recent GLAAD Media Award winner and Queerty Award nominee candidly speaks with Music Times about “Hell Together”; the current Archuleta family dynamic; and how he’s finally living his truth, living his best life, and experiencing the adolescent freedom he never got to enjoy before. And for you fans of American Idol‘s famous David-vs.-David season, there’s even a cute Idol in-joke. Hell yes!

DAVID ARCHULETA: I announced that I was stepping away from the church… after being a very public figure in the church, which is why I felt it was [important] to let people know. People were still associating with me and looking up to me, which is why it was such a big shock, including to my family and to my mom. I didn’t hear from her for a few days, so I thought, “Oh, she must be really upset.” But then when she texted me back finally, she said, “Hey, I’ve decided to step away from the church as well,” which was totally unexpected. My mom was very devout. She was very faithful, even when I was not going to church anymore. If I was visiting Utah at her home on Sunday, she’d be like, “Hey, do you want to come to church with us?” But it got to a point where I just said, “Mom, I’m just going to stay home.” And so for her, for that to be the first thing she says after I’ve announced it, I was just like, what? And that’s when she said, “I don’t want to be somewhere that my children don’t feel they’re accepted and loved. So, if you’re going to Hell, we’re all going to Hell with you.” I thought that was really sweet.

The Mormons, Latter-day Saints, they’re trying to go through a “rebranding,” so there’s not necessarily a Hell in the sense that most Christian religions look at it. It’s not like this place of burning and fire. It’s just kind of like tiers: There’s a higher glory of Heaven, a middle glory of heaven, and then a lower glory of heaven. And they’re all supposedly good, but you’re not at the top one…

That kind of sounds like VIP sections at a concert.

Yeah, like you’re still able to enjoy the concert, but one of them is in the very tip-top of the stadium, the other one’s in the midsection, and then the other one’s up front-row-center. So, it’s different experiences, and it’s actually very much like that [concert analogy], because the VIP sections can go up and visit the people in the back, but the people in the back can’t come up and visit the people in the front. They don’t have access. And that’s very much how the Heaven is that Latter-day Saints believe, so there’s still a separation of family. So, a lot of people have been upset with my song coming out. But you know what? I’m just telling my story about what my mom said to me. I’m not teaching doctrine here! I’m not teaching church doctrine to everybody. I was inspired because what my mom told me touched me, and that’s literally what she said. So, I wrote a song about it.

I’m curious about the rest of your family. Obviously you come from a religious family in general, and obviously they were grappling with the idea that you were leaving the church. And now your mother, the matriarch of the family, is doing the same. How did they react to her making such a bold move?

I feel like everyone just was surprised as well, but in a pleasant way, I guess. I think we were all just like, “Is Mom OK? We don’t want her to do anything irrational. We know this is really important to her.” We just wanted to make sure she was really doing something that she felt was right for her as well. And now looking back, it really was a positive thing for her in her life, just like it was for each of us as we each decided to step away from the church. Because at this point, no one in my family practices the religion anymore.

You mentioned that you’ve had mixed reactions to “Hell Together” — some, I assume, quite positive, but then other people have been angry about it. Can you tell me about both sides? What arguments are you getting as a reaction to the song?

I was actually thinking about making a response on a TikTok, so I could just clarify to people. I was literally thinking about it this morning just to kind of be like, “Hey, I know there are mixed opinions, but I’m telling my story.” This is part of the point that I’m trying to make to people — that even though I’ve said I’ve left the church, people still look at me as this ambassador for the church that I grew up in. I’m trying to make a point that that’s not my responsibility anymore. I’m a different person now. I’m just talking about the changes that I have that I’ve grown. This is my personal experience I’m talking about. I had never had a drink of alcohol before. This is what a drink of one cup of coffee does to me. And I used to wear the undergarments before and now I don’t. And it feels weird sometimes, but these are things that are so normal for everyone else, but it wasn’t for me. And a lot of people in the church that I grew up in, they’re like, “How dare you talk about this in such a disrespectful way!” And I’m like, “Well, why do you feel like it’s disrespectful? This is my life I’m talking about, and you’re peering into my life.” I think they feel like, “You’re misrepresenting what we all believe in the church.” It’s not my job to represent the church. I already said I walked away from it. And they’re like, “Well, then, stop talking about it!” But how can I not talk about something that was a part of my life?

I was working on my book this morning and talking to the editor I’ve been working with, and she was like, “It’s like someone saying you can’t talk about your ex after a divorce. You’ve been married to them for 30 years and now you can’t talk about them anymore. It doesn’t really make sense. It was such a big part of your life, but it also affects who you’re becoming now.” But if it’s shaking the conversation up, especially in Utah… I was looking at the numbers of my new song and the biggest percentage of where people are listening to it is in Salt Lake City, by a huge margin, and then all these other places within Utah. And I know it’s causing a lot of conversation. I wasn’t expecting it to have that much of a conversation, but so be it. That’s what needs to happen, because this is a conversation that everyone has avoided having. I made a point about it on my Instagram where someone was like, “Why can’t you just leave, and leave quietly?” Just basically saying, “Shut up and don’t talk about it anymore.” But I was told all my life to talk about it. I can’t just shut off. I was told I need to always talk about what I’m going through and what I believe. And just because what I believe has changed doesn’t mean that I shut off. I was never told to be quiet about what I believe, and that’s what Mormons taught me. So, it’s really: “Be quiet if the majority of us don’t like what you’re saying.”

But it’s like, the LGBT experience is a minority, but it affects a certain percentage of the population. I think there are more out there that would [like to] feel comfortable opening up about it, because it’s still not safe to open up about it. There are a lot of people, whether they’re gay, whether they’re bisexual, whether they’re pansexual, who don’t have a space to talk about that, because everyone’s like, “Just shut up, because we want to keep our heteronormative view of things.” I can’t shut up about it, because you’re not going to listen to anyone else who’s in your own church buildings going through this, and they don’t feel safe to talk about it, to be vulnerable, to share their experience, because you don’t make it a safe space for them if you just dismiss them. Even if they have the courage to [talk about it], they’re dismissed. That’s why I say if this is causing a bit of a stir, so be it, because I think it needs to happen. And if I can make it visible and if I take a bunch of blows for it, then I’m totally fine. I’m prepared for it and it’s fine, if it saves someone’s life because they feel like they can exist and they can be seen. I think we all just want to be seen and understood, and for other people to understand us. So, I think this song is helping create that space, and I’m glad.

It’s interesting that because you were such a public figure, you were thought of as an “ambassador” for the Mormon church. Do you now feel a responsibility be an ambassador of sorts for people who’ve left the church?

I guess that’s unintentionally happened. I didn’t have the strategy of this is why I’m releasing this song. It was just like, my mom said this to me it really touched me, I want to write a song about it, and let’s go from there.

How did she react to “Hell Together”?

We had had a heavy conversation, before I showed it to her, about family. I was actually trying to understand a little bit more about our family history for the book I’m writing. And she was so worn-out about it. She was like, “I’m just used to moving on. I don’t really like to think about things that happened in the past.” And I’m like, “This is still affecting all of your kids! Things that you’ve been able to move on, your kids haven’t been able to.” And that was really hard for her. And then after that heavy conversation I had her over for dinner, and I was like, “Hey, Mom, remember when you sent this text to me? I wanted to show this song to you.” I think she was just so drained that she wasn’t fully there to really comprehend what the song was saying. She was just like, “Yeah, it sounds good.”

That’s it?

Yeah. And I’m like, “Wait, wait, remember when you said this to me? I wrote it off of that!” She’s like, “Oh, OK.” [laughs] But now that she’s been able to sit with it and look at the lyrics, I’ve seen her posts and she was like, “I’ve been in tears playing this song for hours on repeat. This is so touching for me.”

Is this song, or your coming-out journey in general, drumming up any trauma your mother has suppressed about her own life?

I don’t know. I feel like my experience is different from my mom’s, so I don’t know. I feel like she is processing a lot. She talks about it in her social media posts. She says, “I’m reconstructing what faith is for me,” what Jesus means for her and all these things. And I feel like I’ve deconstructed a lot more about religion. I’ve separated myself a lot more from religion than she even has. So, I guess it’s different for both of us, but she is still trying to make sense of it. She’s trying to find her sense of community. But what’s so interesting is my mom has connected with people so much more now that she has left her religion than when she was in it. … I think it was just always hard for us to personally connect with people on a human level at church. … Once she was able to leave and find herself again and who she was without having to put up this front of, “I’m a good member of the church, I read my scriptures every day, I pray, I go to church, I say hi to the other brothers and sisters there, check if they need anything, and then I go home” — and then she’s drained and exhausted — I think she’s able to connect with people by truly being herself.

It seems like you’re living your best life right now. I follow you on social media. I see how you’ve had this glow-up, always in some fabulous outfit, attending all these cool events, winning awards.

It’s really fun. I feel like I relate to what I was saying about my mom, like it’s OK to be myself. I didn’t know what that was exactly. So, now it’s time for me, instead of, “Am I behaving in a way that will get approval from my church leaders?” or “Am I behaving in a way that get approval from my dad, or from my parents in general?” I was always looking for approval from other people to be OK. Now I can try a more flashy outfit and not be like, “Oh, but that’s not modest!” I used to think that way: “That’s immodest” or “That’s not appropriate.” Or, “If I say this, then I’m not being the example that I was told I’m supposed to be.” Things like that. I can just be whoever the hell I want to be.

You were on American Idol when it was one of the biggest shows on TV. Was that hard for you — being in the public eye and adored by all these Archies, but you didn’t actually like yourself? How did you deal with that, then and now?

Yeah, I think that’s the biggest thing. It was hard for me to enjoy an experience when you don’t know yourself and you don’t like yourself. Everything else could be happening around you externally, but when you’re not OK inside, it’s hard to process everything. It’s hard to enjoy everything because even if there are good things happening to you, you don’t feel like you deserve them. That was a really hard thing for me to get through, for that very reason. And a lot of the people around me… a lot of people referred to just my dad [Jeff Archuleta, who was David's manager], but there were other people externally during that time that try to make sure that you stay in a way that you don’t like yourself, so that you’re easier to be whatever they want you to be. I feel now I’m in a place where I’m so used to being told what to do, it’s hard for me to be OK being the one calling the shots and deciding who I’m going to be. It’s very uncomfortable, but it’s also very freeing experience. It’s hard to be OK with making mistakes, and it’s a lot to process, but it’s also a beautiful time. I feel like it’s a time where I can really, truly grow.

The next song I’m releasing does deal with a lot of the internal struggle of being OK with yourself after. [coming out] Sometimes I’m like, ‘Oh, ‘Hell Together’ is such a triumphant song; do I want to release this next song that’s more vulnerable and not as triumphant?” I wrote it before “Hell Together,” so I was in a slightly different place as well. But I do want to release it just as Mental Health Awareness is coming up in a couple months. I write about the whole process and trying to figure myself out and learning how to be OK with yourself and feeling like you deserve love and feeling like you deserve to be happy. That’s what this next song talks about — how it’s difficult to accept that sometimes. It’s just another thing that I just want to get out. I like the song and I want people to hear it.

I can’t wait to hear it, and to read your memoir when it comes out next year. I am sure your book will cover a lot of your time on American Idol. It was an interesting era, because no one was really out on Idol then. Now now we have openly gay contestants. We’ve had a trans contestant on this current season. Have you ever thought about how that experience on Idol would’ve been different, either better or worse, if you’d been living your truth at that time?

I haven’t thought about it, because for me, that was the truth I knew at the time. I wasn’t aware of my sexuality the way I am now. I was still young. I grew up very religious. And at the time, even then, it wasn’t talked about. Prop 8 was going on. My church was very vocal about being not supporting Prop 8, not supporting gay marriage in California. It was just a very different dynamic for the whole topic, and that’s just the time I grew up in, so that’s the time I lived. I guess I would be a completely different person if I was being raised in my teenage years right now. But I just have no idea what it would be like.

Have you ever wished you came out sooner? Maybe you were still figuring it out and you came out at the right time for you in the end, but now that you’re living such a wonderful life and seem really happy, do you ever think, “Man, I should have done this five years earlier,” or anything like that?

Sometimes I think, “Oh, man, I could have had that experience with other people around me at the same time,” experiencing the growth that everyone goes through in high school, junior high, college — this time of life where you’re just exploring and discovering yourself and discovering other people and what life has to offer. But I mean, that’s what I’m doing now! I feel like it’s a little delayed, so it’s not with my peers necessarily, but in that sense I feel like it keeps me young. It’s kind of weird: When I was younger, I felt older than I am now, because I was a lot more dutiful. I was a lot more disciplined. I was just about business and work. It wasn’t about having fun. And now I’m kind of backtracking. I can have fun, and it’s OK to have fun, and I’m enjoying it and discovering myself. I just feel like it’s slightly different in order.

You still look so young, not that different from your Idol years, even if you’re 33 now.

A lot of people that I’m meeting, they’ll think I’m in my twenties, and that helps me enjoy without people being like, “Wait, why are you here having fun? Why are you out here on the dance floor? Why are you here at the festival? You’re too old to be here!” [laughs] People don’t say that, so I’m glad that I can just blend in. I’m just there to have a good time and enjoy and experience this for my first time, just like a lot of other people are. People on the dance floor and at festivals are of all ages too, but it’s just nice to be partying hard and people aren’t like, “Wow, that old guy’s being weird over there!” Or maybe they are, and they just haven’t said it! [laughs]

I’m sure not, but who cares if they do?

Right. I’m having the time of my life, as David Cook said famously.

This Q&A has been edited for brevity and clarity. Watch David Archuleta’s full video conversation in the split-screen video above.

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, please contact the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988, text “STRENGTH” to the Crisis Text Line at 741741 or go to 988lifeline.org.

Follow Lyndsey on Facebook, X, Instagram, Amazon

David Archuleta today. (Photo: Robbie Klein)

When David Archuleta competed on the “David versus David” season of American Idol at the height of the show’s mania, he was only 17 years old and not at all prepared for the frenzy, and cruelty, that would follow. Though he tells Yahoo Entertainment that he doesn’t regret his time on the show (“I wouldn’t be where I am now,” he notes), the media’s and even the TV show producers’ depiction of his father, Jeff Archuleta, as a manipulative manager (or “dadager”) led him to become paranoid, distrustful and isolated from his own relatives — with really only his fellow Idol contestants to turn to.

But eventually, one of those contestants referred him to a therapist who specializes in treating reality television stars, and with time, Archuleta and his family began to heal. Now, 10 years later, as Archuleta releases his second Christmas album, Winter in the Air, he’s feeling at peace with his past, present and future, and he’s in a celebratory mood this holiday season.

In the incredibly candid conversation below, the Season 7 fan-favorite runner-up opens up about mental health, his resentment about how he was treated during his time on Idol, why his record label wanted him to be the “white Chris Brown” and the truth about his relationship with his father.

Yahoo Entertainment: On your new holiday album, Melinda Doolittle, from the American Idol season before yours, contributes backing vocals to the lead single, “Christmas Every Day.” Can you describe to me the bond that all Idol alumni seem to share?

David Archuleta: Well, having a lot of [TV viewers’] eyes on you can make you feel very isolated. … To have the people that went through with you is so refreshing. To have people you can relate to is really important in life. … So other American Idol people — like Melinda Doolittle, David Cook, Kris Allen, Brooke White — when we get together, we’re all able to talk, and it’s like, “Oh my gosh, you’re going through the same thing I am! I thought I was the only one who was feeling like that!” We’re all so different from each other, we even sing different types of songs, but we have that connection because we understand each other without having to really try to explain ourselves. … I think that there’s something about reality TV shows that’s a very interesting, unique experience, and it has its own kind of PTSD that comes with it.

What do you mean by “PTSD”?

Just all the pressure. You’re basically a character on a TV show, and parts of it are worked so that it fits the TV show — but they’re using your personal life. So you become this character, but it’s with your own name, parts of who you actually are, but other parts that are portrayed in a way that you’re not actually. Then everyone feels like they know you, and they know what you are, and they know how to treat you, and have certain expectations. … This was years ago, right? But there’s still certain things about us that we still had certain little tics that we’re paranoid about certain things. … Eight, nine, 10, 11 years later, we’re still kind of stuck in some of those patterns of thinking.

How have you personally dealt with that?

Well, Melinda was like, “There’s a therapist who specializes in people who have been on reality TV shows. I’ve met with him, and you guys should meet with him too.” I’m like, “Oh my goodness! I thought this was just me. I thought I was weird.” And they’re like, “Nope, we’re all going through this.” That’s so refreshing — to know that we’re not going crazy.

You were on Idol at a time when the show was massive, and the blogs and gossip columns were at their peak and sometimes very nasty. I recall one of the kinds  of assumptions written about you — because you were so young and seemed shy — was that you had a what they call a “dadager,” or that you were sort of being pushed to do this. Was there any truth to that?

Auditioning is something I wanted to do. I just didn’t know I would get as far as I did. I didn’t think people would like me, but it was enough to keep me all the way to the finale. I couldn’t control that, and that was something I wasn’t ready for. So, that was very awkward. And yes, I think one of the biggest misconceptions people did have was with my dad. People thought my dad had a lot more control than he actually did. Yeah, I don’t always get along with my parents, and I did have some struggles with my dad, but I feel like a lot of those struggles were created from American Idol.

How so?

A lot of the tension came because of the stress that the show created. They wanted to have something controversial to talk about. And there were times when I was really upset. I was young, and I was not good at speaking up for myself, so if the producers wanted to make something dramatic and to look a certain way, they would just do it. I couldn’t say anything about it. … I don’t think that’s OK. I have to sign a contract and whatnot to say of confidentiality and stuff, so I feel helpless, like I can’t do anything, because they have the power. And they let you know they have the power. If you say anything that will get them in trouble, then you’re going to be in huge trouble, and get sued, and all that. Then you’re stuck having to be the “character,” as well as my dad become the character, and my family. They’re all at stake because of my choice that I made.

How did that affect you, mentally and emotionally, especially when you were dealing with a high-pressure talent competition at the same time?

I felt a lot of weight. Maybe more of the weight came from that than even the actual show. I was just like, “I don’t like attention, but here I am in front of millions of people, and now they’re involving my family and creating tension. They don’t know how it’s affecting my family’s personal relationships. They don’t know what’s going on in my home. They don’t know how this is affecting us, and how people look at us. But they’re OK with that, because it makes their show juicy.” As a 17-year-old, I really took that personally. A lot of that is hard, and even 10 years later, it’s hard to not feel resentful. Even though they liked me, they were nice to me, and they wanted me to do well on the show, they were willing to portray me and my dad in a way that made it really difficult for all of my family. They didn’t really think about how it was going to affect my brothers and sisters. They didn’t think how it was going to affect me. They didn’t think about how it was going to affect my dad’s reputation. People say, “That’s the price that you pay, and you got yourself into your own mess.” But I didn’t know people were going to start talking about my family. It was almost like I felt like my siblings were sometimes like, “Why did you go audition for that show?” I felt very guilty because of how it affected my family, because we loved our dad. I love my dad too, and to be in the place where it’s constantly contentious and I was encouraged to question my dad — that’s what I feel like really hurt my relationship with my dad. And it made him feel really lonely.

When you say you were encouraged to question your dad, by whom?

People who had interviewed me all the time. People who I worked with. If I tried to defend my dad, they didn’t believe me. It was like, “Well, you’re not trying to help me. You’re just trying to create the dramatic moment in this interview. And I don’t want to get contentious, but I am going to respect my dad whether you think he is a dirtbag or not.” I don’t know why that’s OK. I don’t know why media thinks that’s OK to do. … But now, that’s still what people remember: how “mean” my dad was.

Was that what people were saying? That he was cruel?

Yeah, people would say, “So I hear your dad doesn’t give you water until you do this. I heard he made you cry.” And it’s like, who’s saying this? Why would my dad not give me water? Where are people hearing this? Obviously it’s not like I’m telling people this. I guess that’s just how gossip is. When you’re in the limelight and you get attention, people just naturally talk. And that’s something I had to learn.

How is your family situation now?

We’ve all grown. We’re doing well. I feel like my family’s in a happy place again. A lot of healing has taken place. … I love my dad. I have a good friendship with him. It made my family become stronger. I feel like we became a lot more bonded because we had to say, “Can we really trust each other?” And we had to make that decision and say, “You know what? We’re going to trust each other, regardless of what other people think of us and what people say.”

On the positive side, how did your father help you in your career after American Idol?

My dad can be a pain sometimes, but one of the things I’m so grateful for was when I was signed and the record label literally wanted me to be a “white Chris Brown.” That’s what they told me one time in a meeting: “We see you as a white Chris Brown, and we want you to go into that.” They wanted me to be “urban” and “more edgy.” They were like, “You wanna make it big, don’t you? Well, this is what you gotta do!” Once again, I didn’t know how to speak up for myself … so my dad would go to bat for me and say, “David is not going to do this.” Actually, speaking of Christmas, my dad was the one who had to push for a Christmas album [2009′s Christmas From the Heart] because my record label didn’t want me to do one. They thought it was a waste of time. They were like, “We need you to be edgy. Christmas album? How is that gonna help you? How’s that gonna help us to create this image?”

That isn’t even why people voted for you on Idol in the first place. Your fans didn’t expect you to be “edgy.”

I know! But not all of [the label situation] was bad; they were trying to help me become contemporary and be competitive in this entertainment industry. But I never became a singer to be the hippest, hottest, edgiest, most contemporary artist. I just love music. I love how it heals. I think that’s what people saw while I was on American Idol. Both worlds were good, though: I needed the record label to push so that I could have a song like “Crush,” which was the first song I had ever really sung that was that pop tempo, but I had my dad to always say, “David, remember the power that music has. You can sing a song that is popular, but stay true to who you are.” If I didn’t have my dad there, I probably would’ve become the “white Chris Brown,” just because I didn’t know what to say. If I’d had parents who’d said, “David, just do what [the record label executives] say; they know what they’re doing,” then I don’t know what would have happened to me, to be honest.

It’s great you’re being so open, talking about all this.

Well, I think therapy is good for anyone. Mental health is something that was so taboo before. My grandma struggled with mental health in the ’80s, but no one really wanted to talk about it. … They didn’t know what to say, because in their culture it was just something you didn’t talk about. It’s something people don’t understand, but we can not only talk about it just to understand, but we can improve it. We can help in the healing process.

How did your therapy help you heal?

I guess I realized maybe I can let people into my life. Maybe I can be more trusting. Because maybe there was a certain time in my life where I did have to be a lot more cautious, and I had to be careful with who was around me. But I’ve been able to grow from that, and it’s like, “Well, I want to have friends, or be in a relationship with someone.” You have to learn to open up, and something I’ve had a really hard time with is trusting people. I’m always like, “No, people can’t know where I live. Even my own relatives can’t have my own number” — because I’m so afraid of someone getting into my personal space, my life.

And finally, what is the biggest music-business lesson you’ve learned in the past decade?

I learned from that if it will make people money, they’re willing to sacrifice you. They’re willing to put you on the altar if it means they’ll gain more. “We’ve got candy. Come into our van” — it’s almost like that. I don’t think kids are old enough to understand that. Back then, I was like, “Oh my gosh, everyone’s so nice to me. They’re all my new friends!” In a few months, they were all gone. … So, you have to be willing to say no. Sure, people are going to get upset, but that’s OK, because in the end you’re talking about your future, your reputation and who you’re going to become. You have to take care of yourself, even if you’re not as popular or hip as Chris Brown. You can still find happiness, you can find balance, you can find confidence in who you are — without being someone else.

This article originally ran on Yahoo Music.