I know I'm a hypocrite, yet I embrace that term and the things it entails because it shows that God can use me despite my flaws.

When YOB started, I was a regular. I was posting pretty much every week. I was reliable. Dependable. Always ready to share. And then I almost left it all.

I love sports and competition. I love the push, the struggle, the fight toward victory. I love how my chest burns when I'm on the brink of exhaustion.

I bought a house. I'm officially living IN the city! I've had a roommate since day one. He's a great friend and brother in Christ.

One day my friend came home and found me in deep emotional turmoil. He directly asked me what was wrong, so I tried to explain what I was feeling about him.

That's why you need a community. Whatever hurt you experience, you have people who can carry you on your path to recovery.

I have mentioned before that I am a father. I want to protect my daughter. With the exception of Jesus and my wife, I have never loved a person so strongly.

I absolutely refuse to fall into codependency again — especially with a coworker. With whom I share an office. It would have been a terrible situation.

My friend asks: Do you think you would have struggled with gender identity, sexual identity, and same-sex attraction if your family life had been different?

My church has accepted me for who I am and who God is making me into. And they are willing to walk with me down this road, whatever it looks like.

After going through all the crap my church threw at me, however, my love of the Lord lessened and my love of sex grew again. I crashed and burned.

I was best friends with a straight guy. We could live together and share hugs and other brotherly affection without worrying about falling into sexual sin.

I was glad I had not abandoned my friend when he strayed, and I was determined to keep being the right kind of friend for him.

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.

I did my best not to break down, but I could feel the tears falling down my face. I sucked it up, took a deep breath, and walked out of the church.

I did not have heroes growing up. Many little boys look up to their father or older brothers. I didn't have a clear definition of what a hero should be.

Remembering the way his parents had taught him to follow Jesus Christ, he had a prodigal son moment and spent over an hour crying to God for forgiveness.

I was told I couldn't serve in various areas of ministry, including the youth ministry and being around the younger children at the church.

I had no idea how desperately I'd needed some guy — even some unknowable guy on the Internet — to tell me that I'm awesome.

We were always careful to keep appropriate, healthy boundaries even though we knew we were not sexually attracted to each other. I think we were just cautious of others gossiping if we appeared to be too close. Unfortunately, churches like ours are especially prone to gossip about SSA guys.