Another thing we can easily do is carry delight for masculine beauty into lust. There’s a sense of claiming, entitlement, and ownership in lust that’s fraudulent, a lie to myself. The moment I do so, I start to make the beauty point to me.

As I entered the labyrinth, I tried focusing only on my thoughts and walking; inevitably, however, I compared my walk with others, noting my slower, struggling pace. The way was narrow, and due to my cerebral palsy my gait is naturally broader than most people’s. I tried not to look “odd.”

A common theme I’ve noticed in male Side B spaces is that of the mythical “straight best friend.” Namely, that if we could only find a straight man who was the right mix of masculine, sensitive, and cuddly, we would be cured. Cured of what? Childhood traumas, daddy issues, feeling like an outsider, lack of masculinity, or even same-sex attraction itself?

My time leading up to this year's YOBBERS Retreat came with mixed emotions. I knew a few familiar YOBBERS wouldn't be returning, but I also knew I'd recognize many other guys attending. Anxiety lingered. Had I really built the kind of connections that would help me feel at home this year?

I joined Your Other Brothers back in 2017. I experienced the first and second camp retreats in good ole North Carolina, but then I took a break from YOB the next two years. Why? Because I was tired of it.

When you are 60, you'd think that you no longer experience growth spurts. It's more recognizing life's process of devolution and slow decay, at least on the outside. This year’s YOBBERS retreat was not about expecting profound change, or gaining insights into myself and God that I would carry home; rather, it was seizing an opportunity to meet a group of men with whom I had dialogued, listened to, and only seen in postage stamp-sized pictures on Zoom – men of faith who share a common struggle to live the sexual ethic of the Gospels as they understand it.

I was anxious our "vibe" would be too new, too foreign, too strange, and too uncomfortable for too many people. Would the ratio just be off? Would our vibe be off after 27 months apart? Beyond logistics and numbers, I felt anxious about the purpose of this retreat more than either of our previous ones. It all goes back to that nebulous definition of YOB: what are we here for?

I've heard it said that joy is a contentment or cheeriness not based on circumstances. Wouldn't a foundation of Christ motivate me to love and edify others? And wouldn't this same foundation also keep me from both self-hate and egotism? Ultimately, how can I express joy in my queerness that doesn't glorify sin yet also expresses humility?

The Sunday service started, and I was excited to speak. I'd been praying for this moment for quite a while now — I was about to give my testimony in front of a whole church. The service started, and two songs into worship I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the pastor, and he was motioning me back to his office...

Several of our authors recently attended Revoice 2019 in St. Louis. We gathered to discuss the second annual conference: our personal highs, challenges, and hopes for future Revoice conferences.

I realized that these guys had come to this YOBBERS retreat for the right reasons. They came to honor Christ, love one another, and encourage each other. And that included me. I realized that I had come expecting to work and only work, with no expectation to receive anything.

Humility is not about being hard on yourself; it's about fighting the urge to stand at the center of it all. As I stood there at this year's YOBBERS retreat, an observer rather than a participant, God reminded me I wasn't there to get as much as I could get, or even give as much as I could give. The YOBBERS retreat was bigger than me. I didn't need to stand in the center of anything.

We recently held our second annual YOBBERS retreat: a weekend gathering for our financial supporters and community members on Patreon. Several of our authors attended, and we discussed our time together — both highs and lows — in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Why would I — someone who claims to believe in an omnipotent God who cares for me — wait to go to that God only until after I had tried everything else? When I began to sort out what my sexuality and gender identity meant to me as a follower of Christ, I didn't have to do it all by myself. I could take it all to God.

Same-sex attraction is not the only thing. It's not the only struggle. And I can't tell you the freedom I experienced when I realized homosexuality was actually not even close to the top of my human struggle pyramid.

I couldn't be like these people. They seemed like the antithesis of everything I stood for. Finding out that the Bible forbade homosexual sex only fueled my self-righteous anger. To assert my masculinity and avoid being labeled gay at all costs, I joined my other straight male classmates in mocking gay people.

I've talked to a lot of people about this rejection and they've all said they don't quite understand the rejection and couldn't see anything I'd done wrong.