I hear yelling and laughter down the hall – they're out again. Our dorm's nudists don't have a shower party every night, but they seem to occur more and more frequently now. If I wait long enough, maybe they'll be done before I need to use the bathroom. I work on some backup plans; worst case scenario, I can take my stuff to another bathroom. It’s a little more inconvenient, but I'd rather walk a little further than wade through a mob of exposed genitalia.

I understand some people have to portray themselves in certain ways for cultural reasons, or because they don't want to hurt their families. But how many more mornings are we willing to wear this mask around people just to cry into our pillows at night?

Who was it that said Pride is a celebration of having survived? I can certainly relate to that. I don't know who said it before Ryan did, but I'm processing Pride with new eyes and new appreciation this year, and hopefully for the rest of my life. Recognizing the blessing, even the miracle, that I'm still alive. Indeed, I could have died years ago because of my sexuality.

2019 started out with a vision for a cosy, snug year, bundling up in the warmth of other people's bosoms. For those summer months, I was blessed to see that vision fulfilled, experiencing and giving love just the way I wanted. As for the rest of the year, well, God sure taught me another side to loving people than what I'd considered.

It was an unfamiliar city on the other side of the world, and not one soul knew who I was and what I was about. For the first time in my life I felt free, unrestricted to do anything and be anything I wanted to be. What will I do? Where will I go? Where will God take me? Who's God again?

If there's one thing that stands out about me, it's intentional community. As a single Christian guy with same-sex attraction, I find that I fight against sexual temptations much more effectively when living with other guys. I am much happier, too! But how does living with other guys work with all the potential problems?

Whenever I struggled, I sent my friend a message and he encouraged me. By all accounts, I started doing better with my depression. But that's how codependency can look at the start -- a "healthy" accountability relationship.

It felt good to be close to another man. And yet, was it right (healthy, faithful, acceptable) to like this? Is this what acceptance in a physical sense felt like?

Eryk had no spouse, no children, no parents, and only a distant half-sister. Eryk became dangerously depressed, and no one was close enough to effectively do anything about it. I can certainly put myself in Eryk's place and understand how he could become depressed. But I didn't take the time and effort to notice and take action.

When YOB started, I was a regular. I was posting pretty much every week. I was reliable. Dependable. Always ready to share. And then I almost left it all.

From the earliest time I can remember until I was almost done with college, my two older brothers abused me verbally and emotionally.