It’s 21 minutes after midnight, and Murder, She Wrote reruns are playing in the background as I scroll Instagram. Before I know it, my phone starts running out of power. I plug it in and glance at the TV — this young, beautiful, blond man greets me on the screen. I can’t stop looking at his eyes the entire time he speaks.
Right then I start thinking how nice it’d be to have a guy in bed with me — not to have sex with him, but simply to have him lying beside me, snuggling. I think about this from time to time, especially on a chilly, rainy night like this . . .
I haven’t been with a guy since 2007. During all those encounters, I never wanted to be sexually intimate with anyone.
After leaving that life behind, I’ve been trying seriously to build a stronger relationship with God. Yet I find myself regularly longing for male companionship.
Is it the devil trying to tempt me back to my old life, or is it my lack of kinship at church and with other people in my life?
I’ve talked with various guys struggling with their sexuality and masculinity. A few of them shared that they’ve used apps to hook up with guys and/or sext with them.
I’ve never done any of those things to connect with a guy. Maybe it’s because I’m scared of getting hooked like I got with gay porn.
Even if all the sexual stuff with men is wrong in God’s eyes, I still just want to be with a man physically from time to time. Is that wrong too? Does God really care if I share my bed with another guy, as long as there’s no sex?
I don’t know. Depending who I ask, they’d probably say it is. If anything, such a physical activity would give the appearance to the world that we’re having sex — but it’s not like the world is in my bedroom.
I could never tell anyone at church about my physical fantasies for another man, even if they know my story. I can almost guarantee they’d judge me or at least give me a mini-sermon why I shouldn’t be thinking this way. Goodness knows I don’t need to hear another of those. I didn’t like hearing them back in the 80s and 90s when I knew they were being judgmental, and I certainly wouldn’t like them today.
Sometimes I’ve envisioned my “perfect fantasy guy” as a blond, sometimes as a brunette or redhead, depending on my mood; he has thick, wavy hair that I can run my fingers through; he’s tanned and maybe tattooed, depending on his hair color; he’s between 5’10” and 6’2″; he’s in his mid-20s to early 30s; he’s muscular, but not the bodybuilder type; he has enough chest hair to look nice, not like a bear; he’s got a 5 o’clock shadow or even a full beard; and he has a great smile.
Some of the guys I’ve found on Instagram fit the bill perfectly. Maybe that’s why I think about my perfect fantasy guy so often.
Beyond his looks, here’s ultimately what I want from my perfect fantasy guy: someone who gives me a big hug and kiss on the cheek when I come home from doctor appointments and errands; someone who makes me laugh; someone who massages my body; someone who holds me from behind, just because; someone who snuggles with me on the sofa while watching TV or listening to music, or lies in bed with me when I’m in the mood to cuddle.
I guess you could say I’m looking for a celibate partnership with another man. Since I’ve never been in one, I don’t know what that relationship is like or even if I could actually do something like that long-term.
Part of me does want my fantasy guy to be perfect — but not so perfect to annoy me. After all, I’m a long way from perfect. He’d have to tolerate all my idiosyncrasies and be okay with my not wanting to talk from time to time.
It’s a shame magic lamps and genies aren’t real; otherwise, my perfect fantasy guy could come over any time. I wish someone from church would be willing to be something like this guy in my life, but all of them are married or otherwise in relationships with women.
I guess it’s just as well my perfect fantasy guy won’t be a reality, because I think I could easily fall for him. I don’t know if it’d be love, but it’d definitely be a strong like.
Could I ever fall in love with my perfect fantasy guy? Who knows. I’ve never been in love — with anyone. I know that’s a sad statement to make, especially for a 61-year-old, but it’s true.
I’ve told people that I love them, and I’ve meant it. But I’ve never been in love — and that includes my three fiancées.
I really wish loneliness weren’t part of my attraction to men, but it is. I hate to say this, but sometimes I feel that God just isn’t enough.
Is He not enough because I’m not close enough in my relationship with Him?
I don’t know.
All I know is . . . this is just how I feel sometimes.
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10 (ESV)
Do you also imagine a “perfect fantasy guy” in your life? What does he look like, how does he behave with you, and why do you think you fancy him this way? How do you reconcile your fantasies with reality?
What about making that fantasy into a prayer experience with Jesus? I don’t mean fantasizing about the Lord, but inviting Him into imaginative prayer – asking Him how He might fulfill that longing in a holy way. Any time it turns towards lustful behavior can be rebuked as temptation not from God, but the Lord can absolutely offer holy, masculine, companionship (He did so with John at the Last Supper) – it seems to me that He is no less willing to offer that to us, even if only in prayer this side of heaven.
Love this, Anthony. Inviting God into our imaginations and desires is a beautiful, if not extremely vulnerable, thing.