My attraction for men tilts more toward the emotional and physical rather than anything sexual, and I've been wired this way my whole life. So, what does it mean to be physically but not sexually attracted to other men? It's a question I get a lot, a distinction worth clarifying.

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.

Most of these cuddling experiences transcend the physical and begin to feel more spiritual. We aren’t just touching bodies; we’re touching souls.

I've written before about having never been kissed. But that doesn't mean someone's never tried to kiss me.

I don't want sex with another man like I don't want sex with a woman. And most days I just need someone to tell me that's okay.

I lost my sexual sobriety because I went in search of shortcuts to intimacy with other men. I knew it wouldn't satisfy. Just like all the other times.

Among myriad other losses I could mourn about, I consider how I'm almost 30 and ache over this lack-of-experience that I've never been kissed.

My whole life I've wanted the love of a big brother. I've always wanted to press into someone bigger than me, someone stronger, someone wiser. A big brother to hold me, a big brother to comfort me, a big brother to tell me everything will be okay because he's right there and he's not going to let me go.