I waited until my late thirties to “come out” to my parents. I swore for years that I would never do it, but I finally caved. Eventually, all the filtering, editing, and compartmentalizing just grew exhausting. As difficult as it was, I knew that the time to come out to them had come. I decided to write them in lieu of a conversation. 

As I entered adulthood, I faced pressure from my dad to get hitched. My parents thought that I “used to” struggle with same-sex attraction after a most complicated religious experience. I could likely write an entire post on that experience alone, but to put it succinctly: I encountered grace in such a way that made me know and love God more and caused lust to lie low for years.

Late one night I started thinking about Bernard, my dad – though I haven't called him "Dad" since I was 9 years old. It dawned on me that I've never given Bernard a present for Father's Day. There are two reasons for that. He never lived with my family as I grew up. He's also dead now.

For this first entry on masculinity, I want to share my experiences with masculine leadership, including how the lack of positive, consistent examples of masculine leadership has affected how I interact with and think about the men who are supposed to lead me.

Like most of you reading I begged, cried, yelled, and tried to "pray the gay away," only to have it all go ignored. For years I thought God ignored me. And if He didn't care about me, why should I acknowledge Him and His Son?

I'd love all straight people – straight Christians – to watch "Love, Simon" because it will show them how gut-wrenching (and also beautiful) the coming out process is for a gay person: of finally letting another human into the biggest secret of one's life.

How many of us have decided not to come out to our fathers because we knew it wouldn't go well? How many have been wrestling with the idea of telling our fathers for fear of the unknown? And how many of us have already come out to our fathers, a topic never again spoken about?

Years ago a YOB post like this initially proved to me that this site had something new and interesting to offer the world. It made me feel seen and understood like almost nothing I had read before.

It's only human nature to ask these questions of nature vs. nurture. The seeming injustice and sheer unfairness of our sexualities can feel torturous. It seems cruel that we're so different in a way that society considers taboo and the church considers downright sinful.

My teenage self saw a lot of me in Ed Wood. I may not have ever wanted to crossdress, but I still held my own big secret with homosexuality. I identified with this concept of struggling with a secret which society considers taboo.

What if kindness as a fruit of the Spirit simply meant your unconscious approach to others – and even to yourself – was to help instead of judge? What if kindness manifested itself in the simple idea that when you see someone in need or hurting or broken, you desire to care for them before you desire to know how it happened?

After about a year, the little gay boi in the closet started knocking again and wanted to come out. The desire to be known started to germinate from that dark, cold, humid corner. The next person placed on my heart to tell was my mom. From my point of view, we weren't that close and I didn't feel very loved. Coming out to my mom was probably the hardest coming out I had to do.

The morning after, I processed this dream over and over. This "dad of my dreams" was unlike my dad of reality. He was affectionate and involved. He helped me — didn't just tell me to fix whatever was wrong. And he stayed with me.

The mythology and sci-fi/fantasy aspect of the show attracted me, for sure. But honestly, it wasn't that that drew me in. It was Supernatural‘s exploration of male-male relationships that drew me in so powerfully.

Several of our featured authors watched the film, Boy Erased. It's based on the real-life story of Garrard Conley who wrote a memoir of the same name. Boy Erased follows a young man's journey through reparative or conversion therapy, and it's also a story of a mother's and father's relationships with their gay son. It's a heavy film, and we debriefed it together in this extensive conversation.

You might have heard there's a new Gillette commercial about "toxic masculinity." The commercial has garnered a lot of attention, both positive and negative. Since masculinity is a cornerstone topic in this community, we thought we'd enter the conversation, too. Did we like the Gillette commercial? Hate it? Want more of it? We had a conversation with several of our featured authors.

My dad believed he needed to leave me free to live my own life. I had certainly been willing to be his full-time caregiver, but now that I knew his wishes, apparently God had other plans for me.

After I had lived in Seattle for a few months, some things out of my control started happening that threatened my ability to continue living in my newfound home. In addition to money troubles, a friend of my elderly father called from Florida to tell me that his health was declining and that he was not thinking clearly anymore. I decided right then I had to leave and take care of my father.

It's October 11, National Coming Out Day. Over the years, countless individuals, young and old, have taken to YouTube, Facebook, the Internet, and face-to-face relationships to finally reveal their sexuality this month. Coming out is a pivotal moment in any gay or SSA (same-sex attracted) person's journey, and we gathered our featured authors together for a conversation on our own coming out experiences this Coming Out Month.

I needed to see “Love, Simon.” Simon's dad's words hit me in the theater – "I just want you to know that I love you. And I wouldn't change anything about you."