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.
100 days later, my sexual sobriety still very much feels like a fantastical concept. But it’s easier now, I guess.
He decided he didn't want to be my friend anymore. I'm not entirely sure who was more to blame, and this not knowing still plagues me.
I am in recovery. And like the alcoholic with a beer or a drug addict with a joint, I cannot expect to masturbate every now and then and beat this addiction.
Today marks the 100th post in the life of Your Other Brothers! And what a ride through the blogosphere it's been these last five months.
Among myriad other losses I could mourn about, I consider how I'm almost 30 and ache over this lack-of-experience that I've never been kissed.
Sexaholics Anonymous fits perfectly into my life now. It doesn't matter who you are or where you come from, only that you have a desire to stop lusting.
Today marks a special and pivotal turning point here at Your Other Brothers. For the last four-plus months, we've been bringing you four blog posts a week from me and my same-sex attracted brothers the world over. We've seen incremental site growth from week to week and month to month, and lately it's starting to feel like a family in here. I couldn't be more pleased with the last four-plus months. I speak on behalf of all my other brothers when I say thank you for joining us on this strange new journey. With every passing month, it feels less and less strange. Today is special, because it brings to life a vision planted at the start: a new medium to broadcast our stories. The written word is great -- I personally adore blogging -- but sometimes, the written word can only go so far. Here at YOB, we want to share our stories however we...
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.
Somewhere around seventh grade, I told my family I hated swimming. The real reason was just too silly and shameful. I hated having to take off my shirt.