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].

That Grossed-out Feeling (alternate title: Brotherly Love)

Tossing and turning in bed. Trouble sleeping.

In the past, I would have fantasized about being sexual with men, leading to masturbation in bed. I'd even hold on to a pillow closely to my chest, pretending it was a warm male body.

I did the same last night--held to a pillow to my chest, that is. But there was an invisible fence.

It was okay to hold on to the pillow, feel the comfort, imagine holding on to a brother in intimate embrace. But once if I even began to sexualize it in my mind, I felt sick. Sick to the stomach. Like I wanted to throw up. Like I had crossed an invisible fence that set off a repulsion within my body.

On the plane a few days ago, I saw someone watching the movie, Milk. I looked and wondered if the guy watching was gay. Suddenly, there was a kiss scene between Sean Penn and some other male actor. The scene faded to black. Then the guy watching shook his head. He turned his head just enough for me to see that unmistakable look in a person's face: disgust.

Brother A gave me that face too when I explained to him once about a sexual male scene when I first met him. At the time, that look felt like an affront to me. I felt rejected. His disgust was not just a disgust over a concept, it was a disgust over me.

Now, I feel that same disgust myself. The thought of making out with another man. The stink, the sweat, the skin-guck of another man upon my body in a sexual way.

I want to throw up.

But...

I still feel that need to connect with my good friends: my Brothers. To share openly, to be vulnerable, to pray for one another, to be hugged (with clothes on, for a long time). I long to know that I am okay. Okay at the very core.

True, holy, vulnerable, brotherly LOVE. That is what I crave.

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.

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.

Men Holding Hands

ST (my Spiritual Twin) also struggles with SSA, both emotional and sexual. ST and I have never had a sexual relationship with each other.

ST teaches at a college where a lot of foreigners come to study English. In response to my telling him about how wonderful it is to hold hands with Brother A, he told me that male students--from Saudi Arabia, India, Burma, Africa--would sometimes hold hands with each other in class.

"They would take each others hands, admire innocently, touch and caress the hands..."

My eyebrows raised.

"I'd jokingly say, 'Hey, no touching hands during my class,' and they would reply, 'don't worry, professor, we're not gay.'"

I wondered about that.

"No, they really are not gay. These guys hold hands out of friendship, and it's not about being sexual!"

I want to be like them.

There is an article online entitled Hold Another Man's Hand by Patrick Repp, a married heterosexual therapist. I love these lines of his:

I want to be understood, especially by other men. I want to tell my story and have it matter to someone. Marlboro man be damned, I don't want to grieve my failures alone. I want permission to cry with another man without having to go to therapy to get it. I want those things to be socially sanctioned.

More on Defensive Detachment

A man of my people
Elected to the council
Saying a prayer over us

Why do I reject you?

You are not a ghost from my past
I don't even know you
And yet I've demonized you

I accept you

My heart turns soft and vulnerable
Your words of blessing come alive
I am isolated no more

A Long Post on Brother M

Brother M is one of my accountability partners. He tends to "M"eander when he talks. Likes to meander to conversations about "stuff" (home repairs, taxes, etc.) and also theology and evangelism. If what you are talking about sparks off some distant experience of his, Brother M might meander there and talk about that for 5 minutes, leaving you all confused as to what he is going on about. But if you wait long enough, he'll come back to the topic at hand with a little new insight he's drawn by connecting the original topic to his other distant experience. Only, you'd have to wait and listen to the whole thing before the connection is made and articulated.

I love Brother M. I sought him out one day at church three years ago and "forced myself" upon him. Said that I wanted to talk to him, get to know him, and have breakfast with him. After some time over breakfast [read: after some time of meandering around topics], he said "I get this feeling that there is something else you wanted to talk to me about." That was when I spilled the beans about my same-sex attraction.

His response?

He said that he was deeply moved by my honesty, and that he had had another experience from way back (no, he was not meandering that time) with a roommate at Bible College who confided in him that he was sexually attracted to him. Apparently that friend fully turned over to the gay lifestyle. He prayed for me, and I think he even patted me on the shoulder.

Over the past 5 months, I had been disappointed with Brother M. When I started this blog, I told him about it. But he lost the URL. I sent it to him again. Today, when I confronted him about it, he apologized for not following up on my blog.

We talked this morning, Brother M and I.  I shared with him about the changes that I've been going through since meeting Brother A. I also told him that I am connecting well with Brother B. "Both of them," I said, "are men who are emotionally intense and they don't give up." I explained to him what I am learning about defensive detachment. I explained to him that I get critical and intellectual when I am in the presence of other men, but that it is a shield of self-protection. I explained that I am now learning how to be vulnerable with men: to admit that I feel inadequate, to admit that I feel less-than as a man, and to admit that I really long for deep, intimate emotional connection with men.

In our prayer together this morning, I asked God to guide me as to my relationship with him. If it grows deeper, that I would be vulnerable and continue to risk putting my heart out there, but if it doesn't, then to just accept the friendship for what it is.

Before we parted, I told Brother M that I would let him pursue me now. After clarifying a bit more, he said that perhaps after he returns from his trip overseas we could meet up again (which would make it mid-May.) This was after our conversation in which I said--extremely vulnerably--that I wish I could just call him up on the phone when I was feeling weak or drop by and hang out at his house like a brother. This is a man whom I had been meeting up with regularly for over 3 years, and our families play together often. This is a man who knows everything about me. He could not even suggest that I could email, or call, or connect for a few minutes a couple of times a week.

Again, I was disappointed with him.

But here is the most amazing thing. Despite my disappointment, I did not feel hurt. Brother M is who he is. He does love me. He even said so this morning. But Brother M is typically guy. He likes "stuff" (home repairs, taxes, cars, bikes) and he's not exactly adroit in the realm of intimate relations, esp. between men. That's okay. I'll let my feelings sit for a couple of days. Then, I might decide to let it be, or to let go of my defensive detachment and pursue him. I know he would never turn me away. He really does love me. And he always thanks God for our time spent together, genuinely appreciating "learning new things" from our interactions.

I have never "pursued" a man in this way before. This would be a first. And I think it would be an act arising out of a place of healing.

Side note on male intimacy and sexual arousal [previous post here]: Brother M told me that he has had occasions too in the past when feelings of intimacy with another man would have led him to sexual (or sensual) arousal had he allowed it to continue. Brother M is straight as a log and has trouble keeping his mind off women.

More Shifts Towards Masculinity

Here are two major shifts I noticed in my growth into manhood.

One

I usually start to gawk more at men after I've sinned through masturbation/fantasy/porn.  Today, my eyes scanned a few good-looking men shortly after I masturbated.  

Nothing.  

Unless I knew that they were able to connect emotionally with me, I had no interest in them sexually no matter how good looking they were.

Then as I was driving, I saw a very manly looking guy in a car with a girl next to him.  I admired his manliness and allowed myself to let the admiration stay without judging it.  

When I arrived home, I got out of the car and noticed that I was walking with a very male stance (attitude).  I caught myself doing that and then realized that I was feeling very manly without even trying to be.

Rather than to feel lacking as a man when compared to that guy in the car, I internalized the manliness as my own.

Two

I am less and less able to be "best friend" with my wife.  However, she tells me that she is loving me more than ever before.  So, how does that make sense?

• I have been doing a lot more fathering around the house (fathering is a man thing.)  I am the initiator and keeper of family devotions (another man thing), and I also do the cooking to relieve her of her stresses (another man thing -- to care by doing physical work).

• I am gentle with her when we make love.  I make sure she feels warm and comfortable, I give her sensuous massages.  Sometimes, I just tell her that I really want her and I devour her emotionally and sexually.  When I have an orgasm, I am 100% present with her--no fantasies.  It's all about me wanting her.  She knows she is loved and wanted, and she tells me that she has never felt so beautiful on the inside.  (I guess these are all man things too.)

What's sort of "negative" is that I've become a lot less bestfriend-like (maybe girlfriend like even) with her.  I don't really want to tell her what's going on with my intimate relationships with my brothers.  Yes, she knows about it in general, and she knows that it's a good thing.  But I don't feel like I want to or even need to share with her the details.  I feel like it's really something between men.

On the outside, I imagine I might appear like the strong, silent type.  But inside, I am just content with her as who she is--my wife, my woman, the mother of my children--and at the same time, thinking a lot about how much I miss hanging out or talking to my brothers.

Is the above a manthing too?  Is this similar to typical guys who don't talk much with their women, but think about spending time hanging out with the guys?  Cause I do think about playing basketball with Brother B quite a bit.

• Oh, and tonight, after dinner, I held her hand, walked her towards the car, and opened the passenger seat for her before I opened my own door.  It felt like the most natural thing to do: protect your woman -- she is soft and beautiful, treat her so.  Then she suddenly remarked, "you've NEVER ever done that before!"

- - - 

I think I am becoming less and less afraid of being a man.

Hand me a basketball.

A New Category: g0ys

"g0ys." It's spelled with a "zero." Not gUy, no gAy, but g0y.

Basically, it covers a wider range of Kinsey's homo-to-heterosexual spectrum than "gAy" does: from man-to-man sexual behavior (anything except anal sex, which is seen as "gAy") to non-sexual intimate connecting between men. The common theme tying together the thread is men who desire to have intimate emotional connection with other men. The main site even argues that the Bible prohibits anal sex, not g0y sex, which can include mutual masturbation, etc.

Someone told me that many Christians seem to be falling for this. I think one of the reasons is because of the appeal of the intimate emotional connecting. Indeed, the idea of a g0y gains more legitimacy given that the definition includes heterosexual men. As one g0y put it: "There are many g0y men who identify as hetero and desire nothing more from g0ys than a good friend, a deep bond with another man, short of sexual involvement." (from the g0y Facebook)

The trouble with this category for Christians is that mutual penile stimulation between men is a sexual thing. No matter how you try to gloss over it or rationalize it with historical argumentation, when a guy rubs his penis on another guy and ejaculates, that is sex, whether or not there is anal penetration.

I'm not trying to be "better than g0ys" here. In fact, the category is extremely attractive. It allows me to retain my homosexual (or should I say, g0ysexual) desires, but align it with heterosexuality short of having anal sex. I can say that I have mutual orgasms with 2-3 guys every month, but I am not gay. I am g0y. I can have my masculinity and eat my homosexuality too (pardon the innuendo).

G0ydom is rationalization, and it's not Christian. If g0y sex is acceptable to the Bible, then my fantasizing about rubbing my penis against a woman's breasts should be acceptable too. In fact, it should also be the case that I can also have multiple intimate emotional friendships with women, not have penile-vaginal-anal intercourse (but everything else, including oral sex), and call it "just deep friendship."

I would love it if I could be g0y. I would love it if I could genuinely say that I can be emotionally connected with some male friends, and have mutual masturbation experiences, share laughter and tears, and then go back to our wives and families as more manly than ever. But the problem is, once I connect my emotional relationship with a man with my sexual feelings, it changes that relationship. It has become homosexual, whether or not it involves anal sex.

I wish I could say that God blesses g0ydom, but He doesn't.

What God is blesses is the one part of the g0y definition that gives it "legitimacy": intimate, emotional male-bonding that is non-sexual.

That is the kind of love I am receiving from Brother, and it is making all the difference in the world in how I see men. I am less attracted to men sexually because Brother loves me deeply, fully, with all of his heart (oh, I could explode from how much I love him!) and is very, very clear that it is not sexual.

All This Change

All this change:

It has something to do with keeping my heart open when I look at guys, combined with a deep feeling of being loved and fully accepted by another man in a non-sexual way.

The homosexual feelings become secondary, fading into the background, disappearing completely.

It Is Manly To Care

I'll admit it. I watch Ugly Betty. I'll also admit that I wouldn't profess that publicly before because I was afraid someone would call me out as "gay" for liking that show.

Okay! Now that that's out of the way, I want to reflect about why the ending of Season 3, Episode 14 so moved me tonight.

Two subplots.

- - -

One.

Wilhelmina, the power-hungry co-editor-in-chief of Mode magazine, works hard to hold back from admitting to her powerful and handsome boyfriend Connor that she loves him in order to have the upper hand in the relationship. She warns Connor that she wants all of him, but she won't be second fiddle to his ex-fiance, and she never begs.

Later, realizing that Wilhelmina has actually fallen in love with Connor, Wilhelmina's assistant Marc tells her:

"Waiting for someone else to say 'I love you' first doesn't mean you're more powerful. It just means you're afraid."

- - -

Two.

Daniel Meade, the other co-editor-in-chief of Mode magazine, tries to get his assistant Betty to organize a lavish surprise party for Claire's (his mother) 60th birthday. Betty was hard-pressed to find anyone who could say something pleasant and non-embarrassing about Claire given her past alcoholic lifestyle. Claire begins to shoplift in some kind of psychopathic response to growing old and alone. When caught, she confesses to Betty that she knows about the surprise party.

Betty explains:
"Daniel just really wanted to do something special for you."

Claire replies:
"You know what I wish he'd do? I wish he'd give me just a little time alone with him."

- - -

At the end of the episode, proud and perfect Wilhelmina comes forward and vulnerably admits to Connor that she loves him, without knowing what his response would be. Connor turns around, briskly walks over to Wilhelmina while she is still talking, grabs her, and kisses her passionately. Then he replies with a gentle yet masculine whisper, "I love you, too."

In the meantime, Daniel tells his mother Claire that they need to stop by his office before heading to the "surprise" party. Claire protests that they will be late, but he insists. Suddenly, Claire's eyes widen and her jaw drops. "What's this?" she asks. Daniel says, "Surprise." Two well-dressed waiters draw open a set of ceiling-to-floor sheer curtains to reveal a beautifully-set private dinner arrangement for two. Claire breaks into tears. "Happy Birthday, mom," Daniel says, as he raises a glass of champagne to his mother.

- - -

I cried when I watched those two scenes one after the other. I'm not sure why I was so moved.

Was it because I could relate to Wilhelmina's fear of being vulnerable to love, giving in, and then being surprised to find it coming back in full?

Was it because I could identify with Claire for finally getting a bit of the love that she had been wanting so much from her son?

Or...

Was it because I was astounded that I had absolutely no desire to be kissed by the strong handsome Connor, and that his gentle yet masculine "I love you" did absolutely nothing for me personally? Or because I felt a deep sense of pride (as opposed to sexualized attraction) over Daniel for doing the right thing for his mother--the kind of pride a father would have for a son?

Connor and Daniel were two men in the show that I had strong sexual feelings for prior to my becoming open to the love that I am receiving from Brother. All of a sudden, I am discovering that I have absolutely no desire to fantasize about them sexually. In fact, the thought of them doing something sexual with me, even kissing, grosses me out a little. (I can imagine them stinking, like brothers.)

Could I have been so deeply moved because I am having a taste of heterosexuality... in ME?

I think I was deeply moved because I am finally experiencing what it means to be free emotionally. And this freedom is showing me that the pathway to manhood is not to hold back my gentle and caring nature, but to embrace it fully. Like crying at a cheesy-yet-touching ending of a chick-flick comedy like Ugly Betty.

My brother who bullied me all of my life had it wrong. I am not girlie because I care about people; I am manly because I care about people. I am more manly--and strong--when I am not afraid of being vulnerable with my emotions. As manly as my Brother is. As manly as Jesus is.

A Definite Shift

The love I have been receiving from Brother is unlike any I have ever experienced. He really is not afraid of me "falling in love" with him. He seems to be completely okay with it on a non-sexual basis, soaking in my fondness for him in a... how can I describe it... an ethereal way. He is not freaked out by me telling him I'm falling in love with him. He just welcomes it. My Brother is, truly, the most non-homophobic straight man I have ever met.

I went back to the gym today after being absent for a while. And I experience something that I can describe as a "definite shift" in my same-sex attraction.

For the first time in my life, I saw men differently. Instead of seeing them as objects of desire that I cannot have, I saw them as boys that I can love. It's a very strange shift. Something I did not expect.

After changing into gym clothes, I walked out and saw a bunch of very good looking guys. I found myself naturally smiling at them (even if they weren't smiling at me first). I liked them and wanted to connect with them. But there was nothing sexual about it. I saw them as boys. All of them, the fatter ones, the more muscular ones, the friendlier ones, the chiseled good-looking ones. They were all just boys, being boys. And they were all worthy of being loved as boys.

I don't know if I can quite make sense out of it yet, so I'm going to elaborate a bit more.

It was like I wanted to connect with them, but on a non-sexual emotional level. It was like I looked at them, and I wished them well. The ones that looked more well-adjusted emotionally (not strutting their wares) looked really fine to me. The ones that were less secure (buffed or unbuffed), I felt a sense of pity for them. I wanted to approach these less secure boys and tell them that they are okay, and that I accept them as they are.

One guy was really buffed. Normally, I would feel a little intimidated by that. Yet because of his slightly hunched gait, his downcast facial expression, and that certain something about his mannerisms, I just felt sorry for him. Sorry that he had to get so grotesquely muscular in order to prove his self-worth. It was amazing. I felt no sense of intimidation, and certainly no sense that he could offer me anything sexually. He was LACKING as a man.

Brother, on the other hand, sits on the highest pedestal of manhood in my eyes. He may not be perfect, he can get a little antsy, and he's certainly not the most confident guy with regard to his own physiology. But he has a heart that is more buffed than the hearts of any man I have ever met (and I have met a lot of people). He is truly, the epitome of a man's man at the very core of his being.

Yet, he loves me. He Loves Me! What can these other gym boys offer me compared to the love Brother gives me?

Nothing.

And so, the whole time I was there, I relished in the most non-sexual gym time I have ever had in all of my life. I looked around at every man in the gym, and I loved them with absolutely no desire to imagine having sex with any of them.

Back in the lockers, I felt completely nonchalant about stripping naked and walking into the showers. I had no worries about comparing myself physically with the other guys in the showers. Sure, I looked at them, but each of them looked like just another guy in the shower. It was incredible. I felt, for the first time in my life, completely confident of my own masculinity, and with no need to prove myself whatsoever!

But then, suddenly as I walked out of the showers towards the lockers, I saw what looked like a viking-god from the back. An incredibly attractive male physique: tanned, golden-haired (all over), buffed, six footer with the perfect body shape from his head all the way down to his feet.

I froze for a second and realized that I was feeling a sexual attraction. "Oh oh..." I kept walking.

As I passed him, I turned around and looked at his face. Immediately, the attraction subsided, just as quickly as it had come.

Why?

Because I saw another boy. The face of a sad, down-trodden boy, one who needed major love and affirmation. Sure, he had the perfect body. But I saw through his physique into his heart. It was the size of a shriveled prune.

This "viking-god" was not a man like Brother. He needed to be loved and accepted so that his manhood--like mine--could grow and become full and mature.

This "viking-god" had no true manhood to offer me. I get a thousand times more male-affirmation from Brother than I could ever get from imagining myself having sex with a boy like him.

I lost my interest in looking at male porn when I started to accept Brother's love for me. I did not expect that being loved by Brother could also drastically diminish my sexual attraction towards men -- very good-looking, buffed, attractive men (or so I felt, until now).

I don't know how long this will last. But I'm recording it for posterity.

Moving On: The Next Steps

For the past week, I have been caught in an emotional frenzy like I had not experienced before. An attachment of mostly make-belief. Perceptions.

The attachment is not real, like a door or a shoe. It's all in my head. Just neurons and chemicals. I do not need to let it continue to rule my emotions the way it has, even though the experience has been beneficial. I believe I have learned the lessons that God wanted me to learn.

One. I have a deficit of healthy male-attachments since childhood. It has made me shield myself off from being vulnerable and real with men. When stressed, I isolate and look to porn for comfort. I need to stop that.

Two. I have attached myself to someone who had only committed himself to keep me accountable from porn for a limited time. He never asked to be an attachment figure. I am making him out to be a whole lot more than who he agreed to be with me. I need to stop that.

Three. I look like a man. I smell like a man. I make love to a woman like a man. And I even garner deep respect from many men. I am already healed. Now, I need to walk in my full manhood: honest, vulnerable, strong, and above-all, Spirit-filled. I need to start that.

Moving on.

-----

Today, I called one accountability partner to have lunch with him. Rather than to get frustrated with him given his simple pat answers, I will allow my heart to be soft towards his caring (because he does care) and be vulnerable. If he freaks out, then I'll know it's time to find myself a different brother, one who is indeed called to walk with me.

Tomorrow, I will call another accountability partner. I'll tell him how I felt hurt by his abandonment when I needed him most--how he said he would follow up with me, but then failed to do so. I will tell him what I need in that relationship and ask if he can do it. If he can't, then I'll thank and keep him as my internet-accountability partner, but find myself another brother with whom I can walk much more closely, one who will not abandon me.

Tonight, I found some resources online. I will begin to spend my free time reading all I can about complete healing of my SSA. It's time to put my analytical brain to the task. Scary!

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Resources:

- In His Fullness. Their resources section has a list of recommended readings, including movies.

- Exodus International's Library for prevention and recovery from homosexuality.

A Deficit of Male Love

It seems that I am not alone.

Scouring through the blogosphere, I found some other men (1, 2) writing about their attachments to straight male friends in uncannily similar ways to what I am experiencing with my straight male friend Brother.

In the past, I would have shrugged off such writings and even avoided such people. "Too gay."

I was in denial. I thought I was different, more straight. But what I did was replace real male intimacy with sexual fantasies and male pornography. Which explains why I could never really kick the porn habit for very long. Like these SSA strugglers, I desperately need love from other men. As one of the authors wrote in the above link, I too, have a deficit of male love in my life.

Sex with my wife was absolutely amazing this week. No pretense, no fantasies. We were passionate, intimate, and experienced a deep vulnerable oneness with each other as we climaxed.

But I still miss Brother.

In some ways, the feeling I have for Brother is not very different from the feeling of deep intimacy I had for my wife that night. I told her about it, and added that there is a slight difference: this longing for a male attachment is something that she could never fulfill for me. Only men can do this.

When I looked at pornography, I would feel coldly distant from my wife. Makes sense. After all, I was "unfaithful" to her by having mental sex with a fantasized image. However, my love and longing for Brother doesn't change my deep love for my wife.

Strange, isn't it?

It is as if a guy can love his guy friend and his wife just as deeply, and there is no conflict. The two loves are mutually independent of one another. (Unless the guy has sex with his guy friend.)

Brother says he loves me a lot. I believe him (I want to). So far, he's always been there for me when he can. And he has always been genuine when he shows up. But he doesn't love me "as much" as I love him. He can't. His attachment to me, while deep, has no bridge to his sexual feelings. Mine does. But healing can only come if I accept his love, not reject it out of fear of my own sexual feelings.

So I cast aside the sexual impulse, careful not to throw the baby out with the bath water, as I allow myself to be engulfed in the warm love of his acceptance.

Come, come with me

Strip down, it's easy

See? All around you

Everyone--the same

Come, wash with me

No one looks

Let's get clean

And join the others

Come, let us soak

And man-talk

Fathers, sons, brothers, friends

Together, all men

Yes, together, all men

Them, me, and you

I miss my Brother so much. I have never felt this whole in all of my life until I allowed myself to become vulnerable to his love. He is, truly, God's love in the real for me. And I am, simply, addicted to that right now.

Allow me to relish. It's good for me.

Being Vulnerable with Men

It is interesting how I have had no desire for pornography over the last 5 days. The desire has instead been replaced by a desire for male companionship; for my brother, certainly, but seeing how he has his own life to live, I'm allowing other men to come in as well.

Today, I let two men in. The first was older. I noticed his softness, kindness, and a desire to connect. He reached out to compliment me on something. Instead of putting up my usual tough analytical veneer, I remained vulnerable. Something must have worked because the more we talked, the more physical he got. I did not touch him once, but I counted him touching me with increasing frequency, probably close to 15 times in the 10 minutes of conversation.

I imagined him propositioning me. I imagined what it might be like if he were gay and made a move. Flashing thoughts. I let them pass through. Then, I focused on feeling the acceptance he was trying to give me in a non-sexual man-to-man way. It was nice. Like soft, warm sunshine on baby skin. In the past, I would have scared off someone so touchy-feely with my angry analytical look, and I would have missed receiving the affirmation.

The second man was my age. He was philosophical and abstract. Yet, clearly open to connecting. I made the move this time, asking questions, offering encouragements. I gave him love and acceptance in my usual helper style. He was touched (because he was open to be touched). And I felt good to have been the giver, though no where as nice as being the receiver. There were flashes of sexual thoughts, but again I let them pass through. Focused on the conversation, on just connecting on an intimate emotional level, man-to-man, and non-sexually.

As I lie to sleep, I feel a little less anxious and lonely than I did last night. My brother is not around, and I have no heard from him. Haven't heard from him in almost 24 hours! Can you believe that??!! What is he thinking, treating me as if I am a normal well-adjusted man???Doesn't he know that I'm a needy freakazoid right now and desperately need his affirmation 24/7??!! But I feel okay.

This is a new realization to me: I have been shutting myself off from receiving affirmation from men. I will try to be more open and vulnerable emotionally with other men and see what happens. I know that it means that I will become more vulnerable sexually, but I will trust that the Lord will not allow me to be tempted beyond what I can bear. I trust this is the Lord's leading.

What I Need Is Relational

I have this pattern: when I feel weak and unsure of myself, I go to porn. When my self-esteem is low or I feel nervous about my work, I get a fix by searching out just the right porn clip to masturbate to.

More recently, in moments of weakness and vulnerability, I have found myself missing my straight-male friend brother instead. I no longer want pornography. I want my brother. To talk to him. To enjoy his company. To feel his love for me. To hear him tell me that I am okay in his eyes.

I have become attached to my brother.

This shift tells me that my problem, overwhelmingly, is not sexual but relational. What I need is some deep, intense loving from a male-figure in the real to make up for the years of deficit in male attachments.

That's my grown-up brain talking; offering a cognitive solution to my condition.

My boy-heart?

It just cries. Cries for a father who will love me, hold me, and tell me that he is proud I am his son, over and over and over... until I feel okay.

I can't expect my brother to do this for me. He has his own family, his own busyness. I must find myself more brothers like him. There must be more like him. There must be...

Lord, please bring them to me.

*weep*

The Smell of Brothers

Brothers smell. They stink. Just like me.

Brothers can look good, but they never appeal to me in a sexual way. Even when they splash on the best of colognes, they still stink when you get close.

Brothers have erections in bathtubs together. They laugh about it. Compare sizes. Then they argue and fight--someone took someone's soap. Erections go down. Up and down, their penises, like their crooked teeth and bandaged elbows, are mere physical extensions of their stinky bodies.

I have never fantasized about my brothers. The very idea of having sex with my brothers would make me throw up.

My straight friend whom I love so much is my brother. It should be that if and when I thought of him sexually, I would feel like throwing up.

Man-to-man love may spark feelings of warmth, and even be sensual--like kids in a bathtub. But it should also foster manliness. Talk of sex with women. Connecting at the level of sexual attraction towards women, not each other.

After talking with my friend, and being affirmed again of his love for me in a most nonsexual way, I feel my sexual attraction to him dwindling down and in its place a manly-brotherly love rising up.

I feel stronger. Like an essence of maleness is taking over me.

And it stinks, that male essence.

The kind of stink that women don't have. The kind of stink that women seem not to mind--in fact, long for and lean on. The kind of stink that make men prefer to seek out the natural perfumes that permeate through the soft skin of women...

(...their breasts... their nipples... lovely to the touch... to the tongue...)

I love my straight male friend brother.

And he stinks.

Just like me.

Just the way God meant it to be.

Radical Man-to-Man Love

As a boy, I used to stroke the belly of my puppy. He would lie on his back and enjoy every caress. I also noticed that when I stroked him, he would sometimes sprout an erection.

I am thinking today about how much I love my friend. My straight, male friend who shares with me his very heart and soul, who knows me in all of my vulnerabilities, and yet still accepts me, fully. My friend, who upon hearing how I struggle with same-sex attraction, comes close to me, his body touching mine, looks lovingly into my eyes and tells me that he would like to embrace me in a long, warm bear hug. My friend, who is not afraid to admit that when he feels loving feelings towards others, gets a tingling sensation in his loins. Not a sexual thing, he says. Not a desire to actually have sex; just a physiological reaction of love.

Dare I tell him that I too get the same sensations in the loins when I feel the love I have for him? Dare I tell him that I long for him to stroke me on the belly to the point where I would sprout an erection like an innocent puppy, all giddy and vulnerable?

Alas, I am not an innocent puppy, and I am not straight like him. I have crossed one too many boundaries and I am conditioned to associate male-love with orgasm. Unlike my friend, male-love for me has been sexualized.

How much can one man love another man before it becomes homosexual?

I think my friend lives at the extremes of man-to-man loving, right up to the edge of homosexuality but not crossing over. He has brought me this very edge, and I am teetering, doing everything I can not to fall over the boundary; to embrace his love for me without falling sexually in love with him.

I remember one time, in my adolescence, when I was stroking another dog, and it sprouted an erection. Out of curiosity, I reached out and touched its protruding red penis. I don't remember exactly all that happened after that, but I do remember that its face changed and its happy posture turned into a confused and possibly aggressive one. I also remember feeling as though I had crossed a boundary, and I stopped.

I believe that my straight friend loves me deeply. And I have come to love him back just as deeply, if not more. But it is uncomfortable for me to love a man so deeply and not have it turn sexual. I have only loved one other male figure so deeply and not have it be sexual: Father God.

Such intense man-to-man loving is radical. For me to receive such loving is like having someone open up a huge gaping wound in my heart, pour antiseptic into it, and having me lie there quietly, accepting it all without reacting.

It is killing me.

And yet it may be the only thing that will restore my manhood to me. To experience being fully loved by another man without having it be sexualized. To physically internalize God's masculine, fatherly love for me through the love of a straight man, in the real.

If it be Your will, my Lord, then let me die, that I may find myself resurrected pure and whole in You.

Words

He wrote back and said three words that landed deep in my heart: I love you.

I struggled to accept the sincerity of those words.  It's not his issue, it's mine.  Years of rejection and abuse from intimate male figures--fathers, brothers--taught me that love does not come from men.  The place in my heart reserved for receiving love from men had been filled in and painted over.

Lies.  All lies.  He said he loves you and he is excited to see you.  This is what you need to hear, and you have no reason to doubt him.

And so I wrote back, "thank you."  Only two words, but they allowed me to taste the possibility at the very core of boy-soul that I am indeed lovable and acceptable as a man, by another man.

Three words uttered; two words uttered back.  The impact?

I was able to help 3 different people with their personal problems today, and still feel that I have more love to give.

I have never felt so full in my heart.