Fast Forward: Farewell Brother A

I had never anticipated that it would come so quickly.

I had thought six months? A year?

Certainly not now. Not after having fallen head-over-heels in love with him only three months ago.

But it is here: I don't need him anymore.

The last 7 days of grieving did something tremendous within me. Like a raging fever, the grieving burned away all the relational-sick of my past. Someone reached into my stuck six-year-old inner self and pressed the "play" button...

...without a warning, everything fast-forwarded.

Three entire decades of emotional life zoomed pass me in one quick instant: zzzz..................... pp! And I suddenly arrived.

New, different, and fully my age.

I looked into the mirror. A very mature man stared back at me. I have never seen such confidence. Such knowing. So sure of himself. So forty something.

Just like that, I am a man.

And Brother A? He seems smaller now. More my size. Like all the other men that I used to adore and fantasize about, his allure has dissipated. The good-looking men are still good-looking. But now, they are more like shiny plastic food displays: nothing of value beneath the skin.

I have internalized Brother A. His smile is my smile. His chest is my chest. His penis is my penis. And most of all, his secure-male-self is my secure-male-self. And no one can take that away from me.

I bid farewell to Brother A because I don't "need" him anymore.

Things will be different for us now. Different, healthier, better.

My Brother's Love

All of this change would not be possible without Brother A's deep, deep love for me.

Brother A, I love you so much I could literally burst!

:-D

Undressing Men (Alternate Title: Everyday-Sized Nuts)

It's commonly said that if a person felt nervous when doing public speaking, he could try to imagine his audience naked.

I never understood that advice. I had always felt that to imagine a bunch of people naked would be more of a turn-on than an anxiety-reliever. Especially if there were good-looking men in the audience.

But I experienced something new today.

Today I undressed three different guys with my eyes. Strip! Strip! Strip! They were completely nude, right down to their willies. Handsome devils, every one of them.

Strangely though, I was not turned on. In fact, I think I did it as a way to turn myself off my attractions to them. (It was a pretty unconscious process. It just happened.)

All three guys had something in common. I wanted to draw close to them. They had a certain look with which I associated strength, masculinity, security, support, comfort, warmth.

By stripping them down completely nude, I exposed them. Seeing them naked in my mind unmasked the myth of "the perfect man" that I had attributed to them. Instead, I saw their boy-souls, tasted their insecurities, smelled their bodily stench, and sensed their own quivering need for male affirmation. Their need for male affirmation.

Male affirmation. God knows every man needs it. Even my almost-perfect Brother A!

Speaking of Brother A, he was, in fact, the first Alpha male who was undressed before me. Come to think of it, he actually undressed himself before me. He took the initiative to expose himself completely to me: physically, emotionally, spiritually. And I, in turn, let him see me too, all of me. First physically, then emotionally and spiritually.

And it has all been good. So good, in fact, that I believe this has been one of the prime factors in my change experience.

So this is my new experience when I see strong, good-looking [read: intimidating] men with whom I want to connect. In 5-Easy-Steps:

1. I strip them naked in my mind.
2. They become fully exposed. Their fantasized god-like phalli shrivel down to realistic everyday-sized nuts, dangling awkwardly. Just like mine!
3. They become, all of a sudden, completely approachable [read: no longer intimidating].
4. My attraction towards them fail to sexualize. (The emotional attraction remains though. But I'm okay with that. Because, as I said, God knows every man needs affirmation from another man.)
5. I feel okay again in and of myself. I am, in essence, just like them.
   

My experience today feels like further development along a thread of experiences I've had before: here [A Definite Shift, 3/25/09] and here [Emotional vs Sexual Attraction, 3/31/09].

Homoemotional Heterosexual

More and more, I am hearing from other guys coming out of SSsA that they want to relate with men intimately but not sexually.

I feel the same way.

When I meet men who evoke a sense of secure masculinity, sensitivity, and a caring nature, I feel drawn towards them. I want to let boy-soul out to meet them. Be completely vulnerable. And have them embrace me. Not just emotionally, but physically. I would love to be hugged and touched. Not sexual, but sensual. Physical touch that is not sexual, but deeply emotional, deeply healing.

When I get a good dose of such loving, especially from Brother A, I find myself "recharged" as it were, a deposit of "I am lovable" put into my heart. A deposit that would fuel me to love my wife and kids more, walk with a happier gait, and in essence, become more manly, like the man who loved me.

But I need it, constantly. Like these other men coming out of their SSA, I am desperate for that male affirmation.

If I had Same-Sex Sexual Attracted (SSsA), that sexual attraction has been replaced by Same-Sex Emotional Attracted (SSeA). I wonder how long it will take until this SSeA diminished to the point where I am no longer needing male affirmation so frequently?

It has only been a little over 8 weeks since I first met Brother A in person. 8 weeks of radical man-to-man love from Brother A is certainly not enough to make up for decades of deprivation.

I didn't blog this earlier, but I should note it down. Last week, I masturbated. When I did, fantasies of having sex with women came to mind. A mixture of my wife and other nameless, faceless but gorgeous women. It felt really good. And it felt natural.

Wierd, right? To need male affirmation emotionally, but then want women sexually?

Wierd, but that's what's going on in me. I write it as I experience it.

Holding Hands - It's About The Heart

During prayer, I held two men's hands. The one on the left was a young college student. The one on the right was an elder of a church (I'll call him William).

Several weeks back, I talked to elder William about my struggle. I was completely open. Like Brother A and brother B, William also was not afraid of my SSsA. When I told him that Brother A moved closer to me and wanted to hug me after I "confessed" to having sexual feelings for him (exactly 8 weeks ago today!), he smiled and felt like he could identify with Brother A. He really was not phased by my SSsA. But elder William is pretty busy so I have not had the chance to pursue deeper intimacy with him the way I have with Brother A.

As we prayed today, I was very aware of elder William's hand holding mine. It was not much bigger than the student's hand to my left. Yet, I felt a great deal of loving warmth coming from elder William's hand (and nothing from the student's hand).

Then, it dawned on me that this connection through hands is not so much about hands per se or the student's hand would have illicited a similar response. It is all about how I feel towards the person. Like Brother A, elder William has also accepted me fully in all of my vulnerabilities. Having him hold my hand felt incredibly safe, warm, and comforting. Like the assuring hand of a strong, loving father.

That Being-Loved Feeling

Finally connected with Brother A. We talked for a long time, and prayed at the end with open eyes, peering deep into each others' souls as we connected with our Father God.

But...

Boy-soul was not very willing to come out at first. Angry. Hurt. Not willing to trust Brother A after the long time of felt distance. (You know, that whole defensive detachment thing.)

Brother A reached in, kept at it, pushing at times, pulling back at times. He let boy-soul talk. Air his frustrations, his insecurities, his hurt, and his deep need to be reassured.

Boy-soul softened after a while

Hooray Brother A -- you did it!

(That was my Adult-self talking.)

(Don't worry, this is not multiple personalities. Just metaphors.)

Boy-soul let Brother A in again. In to that soft, vulnerable place to which only God has access. Boy-soul needed it so much. We needed it so much.

And now, despite all the tiredness, all the helping-other-people's-problems, we are feeling good again. I am feeling good again.

Brother A loves me. I needed to know that. I needed to feel that. And now that I do, everything is okay again.

Not porn, not sex. Like a young boy desperate for the love and attention of his father, what I needed was love from a man I respect and with whom I can feel completely safe and vulnerable.

Brother A, we love you. All of us: boy-soul, adult-self, professional-self, caregiver-self, and most of all, brother-self.

Now, I am ready to go watch Star Trek.

The Elevator Encounter

The elevator doors opened, and in walked a familiar face. He was handsome, fit, and bright. A rugged outdoor-adventure physique clad in suave corporate-fashion good looks. And dimples to accentuate his I’m-so-comfortable-in-my-male-skin smile. I had never fantasized about him sexually, but if I had to pick a man to play around with in my mind, he would top my list.

“Hi! You’re so-and-so… Oh yes, and you are so-and-so…” Handshake. Smiles. And…

In the past, I would have done one of two things: (1) stiffened my posture so that I did not give any hint that I was attracted to him, which usually involved demonizing his maleness in some way in my mind; or (2) inadvertently let out a sign of my not-good-enough male insecurity by cowering into the corner or avoiding looking him in the eyes.

… my eyes stayed on his.

In my heart were successive bursts of thought-palpitations:

• “Damn. What a good looking guy!”
• “Gorgeous blue eyes.”
• “His shirt is open, his chest is hairy and muscular.”
• “I really like him.”
• “Am I melting?”
• “No, I am not melting…”
• “I am still standing!”
• “Oh, he is softening.”
• “Is he sensing my warmth towards him?”
• “Wow, I am feeling a softness towards him and I am not afraid!”

As I continued to look and smile into his eyes, his face softened even more. It seemed as if a voice within him was whispering, “oh, I am in the presence of another confident man.”

Weather, recent projects, need for a holiday, etc. Surface chatter. But beneath all that, two men were connecting emotionally. And they knew it.

Ground floor. We smiled again and exchanged goodbyes.

More thoughts:

• “He is a good looking guy.”
• “I can’t get what I want from him sexually.”
• “Erm... he is a great looking [read: sexy] guy, but what I want from him is not sex!”
• “I just like him and want to be his friend.”
• “And he seems to like me.”
• “He’s okay.”
• “I am okay!” . . .
  

• “What a weird feeling.”

As I walked out of the elevator, I reflected on my experience. How was it possible that I found myself completely un-intimidated by this man?

Then feelings of being loved and affirmed in my relationship with Brother A came to mind. Being naked together; being hugged by him for a long time; being fully loved for who I am in a non-sexual way. These are a few of my favorite things. And in that place of intimate love and acceptance—God’s love for me through Brother A, in the real—is a birthing of a new sense of security in my own masculinity.

And so when I peered into the eyes of my elevator encounter, my eyes were able to tell him: “I am man.” “I like you.” “I am man, just like you.”

And I imagined that his boy-soul within him responded: “You are boy.” “I am boy.” “Let’s play together.”

Yeah. Let’s play together.

Fathers and Sons

These videos move me to tears. I wish I could hug my dad like these boys hug their dads. I wish my dad would hug me back and kiss me like these dads do their sons.

The biggest blessing in my life: I can do this with my own son.