Sometimes it’s as if "coming out" and getting rid of the wall between my same-sex attractions and the rest of me will somehow make my sexuality more real.
I still get tense and nervous and start shaking just thinking about coming out again. Some days it's better; other days it's not.
I love sports and competition. I love the push, the struggle, the fight toward victory. I love how my chest burns when I'm on the brink of exhaustion.
I bought a house. I'm officially living IN the city! I've had a roommate since day one. He's a great friend and brother in Christ.
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.
It just seems we forget to say it or are embarrassed to say it or maybe sometimes I'm just not "man enough" to say it: I love you.
There was a split in who I thought I was and who I was thought to be. I fought to be straight and prove to everyone nothing is wrong with me. I'm normal.
Do I really want complete healing, or am I satisfied being a lifelong struggler? Is the self-pity I've surrounded myself with for so long too hard to leave?
Sometimes I feel like Pinocchio when he proclaims, "I'm a real boy." I need men, so that I might become a man myself.
I don't remember thinking of myself as gay. There was always something wrong with me, and I was beginning to see it.