Welcome to our blog – featuring storytellers around the world, young and old, single and married, across faith traditions and the sexual identity and gender identity spectrums, writing authentically about our intersections with faith, sexuality, and masculinity.
We don’t all agree with one another, and you may not agree with everything you read. We invite you to enter each of our stories with a spirit of curiosity. Disagreeing is acceptable; if you leave a comment, please be respectful.
Fighting Masculine Insecurities on Spring Break
Just imagining myself joining this group on this trip brought up several anxieties: the fear of sharing, sleeping, and showering among so many other guys. I also had masculine insecurities about cleaning up after Hurricane Katrina along with the ability to share my faith. But God is bigger than my anxieties. And as I'd eventually learn, jumping into the unknown with God tends to be the best option.
Temptation and Triggers and My Worst Birthday Ever
I knew I needed a miracle even to get out there, and now this triggering text message was stuck in my brain as I got ready. I packed my clothes for the weekend but needed to get some food in my stomach before the semi-long trip.
The Joys and Sorrows of a Highly Sensitive Man
I've often felt great shame over being so highly sensitive. I thought I was the only guy who cried or got his feelings hurt so easily while the other men took life's unpleasantness in masculine stride.
How God Provided in My Midlife Loneliness
Arriving at my new house, I found no one there to greet me. I knew where my new housemates hid the key, so I let myself in. My emotions were almost more than I could take: fear, loneliness, and confusion.
I'm Still Ashamed to Talk About My Sexuality
Just because I'm "out" doesn't mean I'm always going out of my way to talk about sexuality. Outside my closest friendships, I still don't feel comfortable sharing. I still feel ashamed of my sexuality. Even after all this time. All these stories, written or otherwise.
My Battle with Male Body Image
I remember being envious of the other boys who seemed so free in their bodies, so free with their bodies. I remember being envious of their slenderness, and later on, their muscles. I remember lying in bed wishing so hard that I could wake up and be miraculously thin. I remember knowing that I shouldn't hate my body but having no idea how to stop.
Coming Out at College
College held the hope for a fresh start. Home meant the weight of my double-life: the pain of lying about porn and "everything is okay" all the time; the great friendships that never felt deep or authentic enough for my broken self.
A Personal, Vulnerable Conversation
Henry and I had a great, heartfelt talk. But a realization hit me as we were talking: I don't want to share this conversation with anyone else. What we talked about that day was personal. Vulnerable.
Singleness in a Silhouette
We finished the day by taking silhouette pictures with the blazing orange-and-pink sky as our backdrop. My siblings lovingly kissed their spouses and lifted them up in the air as some of the most romantic and precious images I'd ever witnessed. I stayed to watch for a little while, knowing that no one would ask me if I wanted any pictures by myself. That would have been absurd, right? It didn't take long for me to reach the end of what I could handle with my family. So, I ran away.
My Midlife Move 3,000 Miles Away
I was single with no children, free from almost all responsibility, and I realized I could move anywhere in the country and totally start over if I wanted it. The idea appealed to me the more I thought about it.
Fighting With My Best Friend
I felt sick to my stomach that one complicated situation made me lash against someone who was very dear to my best friend's heart. I felt the whole situation was my fault, and I couldn't do anything to make it better.
"Side B" Friendships are Hard
It's no secret that I have written extensively on the joys and blessings of SSA, gay, or Side B friendships. Indeed, these particular friendships have been incredible and moving experiences that I would not trade for anything in the world. But at the same time, let me be clear: maintaining Side B friendships with other guys can be HARD.
Giving Up On My Dreams for a Wife and Kids
When I was a kid, my dream was to grow up and get a wife and kids. A lot of kids. My family and church taught me to pray for my future spouse. So, I did. Everyday for years. I prayed for the girl I'd one day marry, that God would protect her and care for her, whoever she was.
My Midlife Crisis Kicks Off a New Life
This is the continuing story of my midlife crisis which started when a deep sense of dissatisfaction drove me to make big changes and start a new life. Waking up from a dream, I intuitively knew that I should devote as much time and energy as possible to pointing the younger generation to Jesus Christ!
The Joys and Sorrows of Being an Introvert
I hated being the awkward, quiet introvert; I wanted to be like the energetic, chatty, extroverted kids. They always seemed to make a bajillion friends and were always the life of the party who people laughed at and enjoyed. I hated myself for not having charisma or speaking when it mattered. I thought something was wrong with me.
My Jesus Journey Leads Me Here
Call it a "new direction" or a clearer translation of what YOB has been from the start: a community desperate for Jesus. My 31-year Jesus journey leads me here. Wherever "here" is. Broken on the floor. Echoes of the past ringing in my ears. Doubts for the future always shadowing my vision no matter how many tears I blink away.
Embarking Upon My Midlife Crisis
How does a middle-aged, single, Christian guy dealing with same-sex attraction (SSA) embark upon and survive a midlife crisis? It was clear that I was selfishly living an easy life that didn't help anyone else and did little or no eternal good.
Older and Single: Aftermath of My Friend's Suicide
Eryk had no spouse, no children, no parents, and only a distant half-sister. Eryk became dangerously depressed, and no one was close enough to effectively do anything about it. I can certainly put myself in Eryk's place and understand how he could become depressed. But I didn't take the time and effort to notice and take action.
The Male Imprints Left On Us
When we give our hearts to people we are changed, even if they never give us their hearts in return. These effects aren't scars — they don't begin as wounds — and I wouldn't call them baggage. They're like paint splashes on our canvas hearts or imprints on our soft, clay souls.