Sometimes I feel like Pinocchio when he proclaims, "I'm a real boy." I need men, so that I might become a man myself.
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.
Don't ever pity me or my story. I WANT to do this! I'm always excited to write something new for you guys, even if it's one of the uglier parts of my life.
I got more involved in a small group as others would worship God. There was an amazing sense of community. I knew I was not alone in my Christian life!
I was the problem in this friendship. I refused to let him be anything less than my absolute closest friend. And I said I was sorry.
Back when I was blogging anonymously about same-sex attraction and other struggles, I coined my own term: my Deep Dark Secret Club. They knew everything.
Because of this small step, I would be able to be more open to other people in the future, telling them about my struggle with my sexuality.
Without the past, we have no future. We either let the past keep us in chains, or the past props us up, prods us forward, pushes us to greater heights.