For this first entry on masculinity, I want to share my experiences with masculine leadership, including how the lack of positive, consistent examples of masculine leadership has affected how I interact with and think about the men who are supposed to lead me.
Was I in love with him? Did we have the deepest friendship, or was it actually something more? This is for the lot of us who have gone from strangers to friends to kin to nothing.
This year for Lent, I felt like the Lord told me to give up "selfishness." But what the heck does that mean? Isn't that kind of...generic? Vague? A little too open-ended? Perfect, I can open the door for others before opening it for myself. Check. Well, let's back up a bit: I'm 27 years old, I'm an actor, and this last year has been a whirlwind, at best.
It's no secret that the LGBT+ community has a complicated history with the Christian church. This culture war has bled into the church for decades, resulting in those who experience same-sex attraction in their congregations to feel uncared for, unloved, and at worst, excommunicated from the church community. These experiences create soul wounds.
If you're at all familiar with YOB, you're probably aware that little sparrows have infiltrated nearly every corner of our community. They're in the banner of our website, the centerpiece of our logo, and even the tagline of our podcast: "Even the sparrow finds a home," which comes from Psalm 84. But did you know that sparrows are really, really small?
How does this "normal boy" turned "normal man" feel about his naked body? His penis? I'm still unsure of many of the answers to these questions. From the inside out, I've struggled to feel normal (comfortable) in my own skin. This masculine body. Starting with that particular appendage.
Alex is announced as our newest YOB contributor! We dive deeper into his blog about holding hands with his straight guy friends: one story in which a friend reached across a restaurant table to hold his hand, and another in which Alex extended his own hand toward a friend while walking with him in the park. What fears came up with expressing such open touch?
I always feel this nervousness attached to holding hands in public. If I want to hold hands with a friend, what will others think of me? What will they think of us? Will they assume we are a couple? Will they say something? Will they be aggressive, or will they ignore us?
On the one hand, I wanted the opportunity to meet and engage with a community whom I've deeply desired connection, and this retreat would also occur over my fall break; on the other hand, I was deeply anxious and afraid of going and then feeling isolated and alone.
Something else that astonished me over the weekend was how much like myself I felt; how proud I was to be seen in the company of my fellow queer brothers; how un-worried I was about what anybody else thought. That's not like me. At least not how I have been.