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.

Before I applied for SOM, some friends were talking to me about becoming a Bible study leader. I grew thrilled at the idea of leading and serving there.

I don't get wet dreams when I masturbate regularly; they only happen when I don't. Like when it happened last week.

So, as it turns out, I still don't know who I am. And with two decades now under my belt, I have come to the conclusion that I don't know who I want to be.

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

It is very desirable and even possible for me to have a decades-long friendship with a straight guy...even though he is married and I am not.

I didn't belong here. An odd realization to make. YOB is for the outcast. A place for those who feel they don't belong. It's a community for the outcasts.

If it weren't for Jesus, it would just be some hangout weekend with a bunch of gay guys. I think of the term #SquadGoals for our group.

I've been sexually sober for over 100 days now — not a lick of masturbation, pornography, or promiscuity — and I get a lot of questions like HOW I DO IT.

He knew he would not have met her if it hadn't been for me, and he still considered me his best friend. I gladly said yes to being his best man.