Straight men have always been scary. They've long been "the other," going all the way back to first grade. We may not share the same tastes for sports and media consumption, but we still share a common masculine heart. One fraught with hauntingly familiar masculine thorns.
Do I live the way I live purely because of the way I was raised? Do I still harbor any internalized homophobia of myself and others? Is that why I'm "Side B"? Is this all coming from a place of pious self-righteousness?
We hadn't seen each other in a while, so we caught up on each other's lives. Then came the confrontation. The tone changed, and he wanted to get some stuff off his chest. He told me he didn't appreciate my butting in on their relationship and trying to save our friendship. That if he had to choose between our friendship or his girlfriend, he'd choose her.
Last month, I wrote about my botched attempt at sharing my story at a church for the first time. Since then, I realised, I've never really reflected back on my comings out. Taken a birds-eye view of things, processing the other times I've communicated my sexuality to other people. Until today.
The voices flooded my mind. How useless am I not to protect the females on the team? I am so weak. I am nothing like the other guys on the team. What am I even doing here?! With all that had been going on, my team director decided to have a chat with me.
The morning after, I processed this dream over and over. This "dad of my dreams" was unlike my dad of reality. He was affectionate and involved. He helped me — didn't just tell me to fix whatever was wrong. And he stayed with me.
Many men dealing with same-sex attraction have told stories of being coldly rejected, while men who struggle with heterosexual sins are given compassion and support. My church, however, has actually helped me follow Jesus Christ, allowing me to be happy while fighting homosexual temptations.
We will face temptation in this life. There is greater nuance for those of us with fellow "Side B" relationships, as the gender with whom we often need the closest relationships is the gender we are also generally attracted to. Temptation will happen, but it cannot be the only — or primary — litmus test for whether we can be safe in friendship.