Somewhere around seventh grade, I told my family I hated swimming. The real reason was just too silly and shameful. I hated having to take off my shirt.

I had just intercepted a "booty call" meant for my brother! There was absolutely no doubt now that Brad was having sex with other guys. What to do?

This guy, this leader didn't care about my past, because he saw my potential to become a better Christian, a godly man.

I pretended everything was normal with my gay brother and acted like I didn't notice his sexuality. I didn't want to deal with any trouble.

I had never really liked a girl like this. I had attempted dating girls before...but this time, I was seriously head over heels for this girl.

I refuse to tell people when they've hurt me. I lie to people about being okay when I'm not. I live the exact opposite of what I preach.

I got more involved in a small group as others would worship God. There was an amazing sense of community. I knew I was not alone in my Christian life!

I was the problem in this friendship. I refused to let him be anything less than my absolute closest friend. And I said I was sorry.

Back when I was blogging anonymously about same-sex attraction and other struggles, I coined my own term: my Deep Dark Secret Club. They knew everything.

I don't remember thinking of myself as gay. There was always something wrong with me, and I was beginning to see it.

I saw I was faced with a stark choice: it was gay sex or Jesus Christ, a relationship with one or the other, but not both. 

As a man who strongly considered becoming a woman, I have a unique gender perspective that most Christians cannot fathom. Still, I wanted to be a man.

I loved sex so much and didn't want to stop because I found out I could do it. Once I did had sex and knew I could do it anytime I wanted, I took advantage.

I processed all the outcomes and knew that ultimately nothing would change by anything I did. My breaking point with my best friend was this: I did nothing.

My middle school years were some of my most difficult times. I started noticing other guys and growing overwhelmed by my first gay feelings.

I wonder: Will I ever reach a point where I am no longer afraid of someone's reaction to my struggle with same-sex attraction?

Since my college-age Bible study ended last year, the guys in my small group decided to do something different one Thursday night — a Guys' Night.

Looking back, I know I was experiencing same-sex attraction at that age, even though I didn't know what SSA or homosexuality was at the time.

I saw that this love actually motivated Jesus to die for me. It was like the Sun rose and took away all my darkness and emotional pain.

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.