He was never physically affectionate; we’d never even hugged. I wanted to touch him not out of a sexual desire but from a longing to connect with him as love with a brother. I dreamed of a day when we could embrace and confess our brotherly love for each other. I put my hand on his shoulder once. He brushed it off.

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 get into times of doubting, specifically regarding my choice of celibacy. At times, it seems ridiculous that I choose celibacy all because of my faith.

What if I did partake in male nudity in a non-sexual setting? What if I could make my nudist desires feel more normal and less of a sexual fantasy?

Growing up as a pastor's kid, I hid my homosexuality because I didn't want my father or my family to know that I was a "mistake."

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 love attending my church and uphold them to the highest regard. Unfortunately, I was hurt by my church – and this is my story.

So often I lament my lifelong disconnect from the male species and my own innate lack of manhood, I tend to neglect or even forget the numerous times I have felt like a man.

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.

In 2008 I entered a desperate Google search: "Christians struggling with homosexuality." Finding that Xanga blogring community changed my life forever.