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.

I was stoked to hear about the 2022 movie, "Close." After watching the trailer, I was instantly sold. Two boys are shown to be close friends, even physically affectionate with one another to the point that their classmates assume them to be gay.

It's easier to remain in the cage even when you can leave, because it's familiar. It's normal. It's hard to ask others for help. It's hard to just...be. Alone. In your own skin.

How was this past Christmas reinvigorated for me? Well, this song helped clarify the good parts of my sexuality related to human touch, deeply rooted in the natural instinct common to all humans since birth. I was born with a longing to be comforted, to be held, to be swaddled, to be cuddled. As I've aged, those same good touch instincts were partially absorbed by my sexuality, and now they're muddled.

This complicated relationship with masculinity has followed me throughout my life, especially as I've gradually come to terms with what it means to be a gay man following Jesus. Even now, I struggle to use the word "man" to describe myself. I can come to terms with the word "gay" or the word "Christian," but "man" doesn't feel like something I am.

At first I thought the book would be an interesting "tell-all" about the making of the film, but what I got was a provoking, hilarious, disturbing, and twisted foray into the relationship between Greg and Tommy.

All the other gay films I'd watched were nice, but this was the first gay film I watched and thought: I wish I knew what it was like to be in a relationship. All the other men I've ended up with were only about sex. I didn't care about them or their feelings, much like the son at the beginning of this film. This film brought up feelings I never knew I even had or wanted, for that matter.

Handsome Devil is a very gay movie, but for once a gay movie not focused on sex or even romance; instead, it leans heavily on themes of vulnerability, authenticity, bullying, trauma, masculinity, and most of all, friendship. It checks all the boxes for a Side B sleeper hit.

At its core, Luca is simply about a friendship between two boys. It was refreshing to see a deep, loving friendship between boys; so few movies really show this. In a culture obsessed with romantic relationships, this was wonderful to see. But Luca has also brought some controversy. Some have accused Luca of queerbaiting – that is, hinting at or even promising LGBT+ representation, only not to deliver for fear of the reaction.

"Stand By Me" makes me pine for what I wish I could have had in my childhood but also makes me grateful for the friendships I have now as an adult. So, where to begin with this movie? Honestly, there's a lot. The movie's focus is the relationships among the four boys. They all come from broken families and bond together to form their own family.

I'm grateful "Band of Brothers" introduced me to the concept of true brotherhood at a young age. Had I not seen it, I may have grown up thinking the only type of intimacy between people is sex. At long last, I feel like I have found my band of brothers here at YOB and in the "Side B" world at large: men who know me, love me, and will be there for me, even at the end.

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.

My daughter had been injured by an accident — something that had no one to blame or fault. And in that time, I needed to know that it was all going to be all right. I needed to know that it would work out. I needed hope. And I needed to restore my faith in that hope.

The vast majority of "Queer Eye" is not even addressing sex; it is addressing prejudice, shame, and loneliness. I have experienced shame, the idea that I am simply unlovable. I even believed for many years that God hated me, that God himself couldn’t even love me.

But is it wrong that I look for that true brother still, that I still pray for God to bring that true brother to me? I hope not.

Do I want to have a brother I care about that much that I will declare putting him above all else? Or do I want to have a brother saying those words to me?

Dean is a grown man finding complete joy in the simple fact that his brother was happy. It makes me want my own brothers to be happy for me.

I have wanted nothing more than a guy who would give everything to show his love for me. And this desire has warped my life in more ways than I could ever describe.