Humility Is Manly

After many years of feeling pressured by the wife to be spiritual around her, I finally gave in.

There is only one person in this world with whom I am as vulnerable as I am when I am with God: Brother A. He gets to see boy-soul fully. He's been the only person with whom boy-soul has felt safe enough to emerge.

When I am with God, I am totally open. I hide nothing from Him. I am completely naked. He could strike me down and I have no defense. He could reach towards me and my heart is fully His. God allowed me to have this relationship with Brother A.

And now, God wants me to have this relationship with my wife. Even if she will use my vulnerability against me (e.g. call on me when I am being prideful out of her own fleshly insecurities).

And so I made a commitment last night before God and before my wife that I will be spiritual [read: completely vulnerable] with God in her presence.

The Spirit opened my eyes to a sin that I had committed that I had not told anyone. I shared that with her. Then, I allowed myself to admit the deepest fears I have in life (the fear of failure, the fear of poverty, the fear of insignificance), and gave them over to Jesus. This, in front of my wife. Something I have never done before.

Me: So now I am naked and vulnerable. You can walk all over me.

Wife: No, now you are strong and manly, and you have no fear.

Then, we made love. And I was a man, through and through.

Sports, Physical Pain, and Masculinity

People tell me that I'm really strong. I am. And I am not.

Emotionally, I've survived through all kinds of hell. But physically, I'm a wimp. Break my heart and I'll compose a most brilliant piece of work. Stub my toe and I become a pathetic baby.

Or stub my thumb... my right thumb, to be precise.

I'm going out to play a game of real basketball with real players.

:manly woo hoo:

I discovered two things. (1) Jogging at one's own pace is not the same as sprinting up and down the courts. I was breathless after 10 minutes. (2) I can hardly function without my opposable right thumb. (I told you I'm a wimp! Cut me slack already.)

---

My experience today brought back childhood memories.

Football, we call it. Where fast balls slam into your gut or hard shoes smash against your shins while you're breathless and coughing and sweaty and itchy and dying. Add to that a strong, fast, sporty elder brother who is yelling at some useless, fat-assed faggot for missing a ball, or running too slowly.

Who? Me? pant... pant...

No wonder I went into music instead. And also hanging around girls, drawing pictures of princesses with them.

IT BLOODY HURTS TO PLAY TEAM SPORTS!

---

Scholarly question #1: How many men with SSA grew up with gender identity disorder?
Answer: Many [ref 1,2].

Scholarly question #2: How many boys with gender identity struggles did not play sports with other boys because they were very sensitive to physical pain?
Answer: ____

---

While icing my thumb joint, I seriously contemplated quitting.

Brother B called. (Don't remember him? He's one of my straight friends who knows about my struggle and is teaching me to play basketball. Here and here.)

"Hey, so did you enjoy basketball today?"

"Well... yeah. I found out that I'm either allergic to something in the air or I'm asthmatic. Also, I injured my thumb a couple of times." And then I forced myself to get out of my self-pity thumb-pain funk and eeked out a "but overall, I enjoyed myself."

Because, damn it, I did! I just wish I didn't have this asthma/allergy thing, and learned how to handle a basketball better so that I wouldn't hurt my thumb.

"I saw you. You did pretty well. I mean, you went in there and did some good moves."

"Hmm. Hum. Well. Yeah."

Thanks, brother B, point guard extraordinaire. I guess I didn't do too badly given that it was my second time playing basketball. After all, these guys really did know what they were doing.

---

I think part of embracing maleness is to embrace physical pain. I don't know why I am so sensitive to it. I see it in my son. He is so afraid of getting himself hurt, while the other boys around him take all kinds of physical risks. And he is also, at the same time, incredibly emotionally sensitive--a gifted artist, for sure.

There is something to this. I need to think more on it.

---

In the meantime, it's confession time. I did it again. Looked at pornography. This time, I even masturbated to it. Heterosexual porn, though. Seeing men's goodies alone just don't cut it for me anymore. I need to see naked women and hear their moans. This is the third time it's happened. But the heterosexual porn does not feel as emotionally charged as I remember the gay porn felt. It's lonely being a heterosexual man. I can't quite explain it. It's a lot more lonely somehow.

Note: I am not sanctioning looking at porn or masturbating to it. The above is a *confession*. I see it as sin and I have repented of it, and told my wife about it (I also confess to her *every time* I fall with porn or masturbation). I am processing authentically with the hope that it will lead to greater transparency and healing... somehow.

Jots

Saw a very good looking guy last night who eyed-me out from head to shoe. There was an attraction there for me (emotional, and bordering on sexual). I stayed with it. Looked back at him. Undressed him with my mind [ref]. Saw his face when he took off his hat--he looked tired. He became all of a sudden, just another guy. The aura of the mysterious masculine left him, and my attraction for him, both latent sexual and emotional, dissipated.

But it was a close one. I was tempted to "white knuckle" and avoided the temptation to look. Had I done so, I think I would have been defeated. Face the mystique of the masculine head on, and you'll soon find yourself staring into a mirror.

Sex with wife was not the most passionate last night. Combination of tiredness and also the event with that good-looking guy. But she thoroughly enjoyed it, she said. I am glad! Not every sexual union has to have royal fireworks... for me.

Spent the morning fellowshipping and praying with wife while walking and exercising. Talked about all the new friends that I've made since starting this blog and joining another SSA-support online group. (Yes, she knows all of you by name, real or made-up!)

I found myself letting her run on the inside of the curb, so as to protect her. Something that felt really natural and manly to do, that I would not have really thought about doing before. Oh, last week, I also bought some materials and started to wash and polish my vehicles by hand. Another thing that I would have never done before but now love to do. Something about washing my cars by hand... feels so right... especially around the curves.

I am starting to be less and less interested in blogging like I used to. The need for it is gone. I told wife that there are two new directions to take now: (1) learning about manhood; (2) learning about fatherhood.

I am not so naive to think that SSsA will not come back to me. I am ready if that should happen and will chronicle it. But I think future posts will be more about entering into a discovery of what is manhood and what is fatherhood, from an experiential perspective (as always).

I need to get a few hours so that I can do my Summary Reflections #2.

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.

Grief Reflected

I did not expect this change to happen.

I did not expect the emergence of anger to come about.

And I never expected this grief to hit me, so hard.

Yesterday, Brother A asked me to pray. I could not utter the words. Before long, I was a blabbering, sobbing mess. Deep pain.

Today, Bill Bright, founder of Campus Crusade for Christ, prayed a prayer on the radio for his staff members during his final dying days. I started to sob again, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face, my heart wrenching.

I don't understand this grief. So the rest of this post will not make sense. I only want to put down some disconnected thoughts. Perhaps it will come together, later.

When my father died, I went into slow motion. I spoke slowly, smiled slowly, moved slowly. I was numb. Something deep within me also died. But in its place a new freedom birthed: all that we think is important is not so important after all. And for a little while, I appreciated the grass, the trees, the little everyday conversations of everyday people.

Something within me has died. All those years of pain. The travail. How my father travailed and fought to keep his empire going while he battled his illness. And suddenly, it's all over.

Let the empire crumble now. And let the grasses and flowers and trees and little wild creatures grow all around it. Let the name of the empire be forgotten.

It's over. The battle is over.

And I weep.

Years of pain come together, congregating in my chest, and gushing out in heaves through my sobs.

I have nothing left to battle.

And something new has birthed.

When I sob, the pain echoes out of a place of intense thankfulness. How I have travailed over all these years. How I have fought to stay true to my decision not to give in to a homosexual lifestyle. How hard it had been to put on a grown man's face everyday over these years. How tired I am. How good God has been to me all of that time.

Second Timothy Chapter Four Verse Seven.

And now, my crowning glory.

Yet, I am barely able to stand and wear it.

: more sobs :


Brokenness.


How are you doing, boy-soul?
How are YOU doing, champ?
I am tired. So tired.
We know.
We? Who is we?
Me, boy-soul, and all of your other little childhood selves. We, know. And we are all here.
Oh.
We are all here for YOU, champ!

Boy-soul, and all my little childhood selves. They look so tall, so grown up, so masculine, so together. And they are here for me? I don't have to keep up with external appearances to protect them anymore? My inner child(ren) have grown up?


The battle is over. And I sob.

Why did I sob over Bill Bright's prayer?

Because he prayed as a father. Because he prayed over his "sons" in ministry. Because his "sons" were ready to take over the mantle of his ministry. Because he prayed that they will be men of God. MEN of God. And because God wanted you to hear that prayer, and so you did, and you received it, into your heart, oh MAN of God.

"Father, Father, Holy Father. We bow in reverence before Your majesty. We are in awe of Your greatness. When we think of who You are, we realize how little we are, how small in comparison. And yet even when we were yet in our sins, You died for us. You love us. You delight in us. And I thank You that in Your sovereignty, You chose Dennis and Bob to do what they are doing. And You've anointed them and given them favor, and great blessing. And I ask Holy Father, You'll keep them pure. Keep their motives pure, their hearts pure. Their attitudes, their desires, their actions above reproach. That they, Bob and Dennis, will be MEN OF GOD after Your heart. There will be no sin in their lives that will hinder Your working in and through them. That as they speak day after day, to millions of people--and that number, oh gracious God, I pray will increase by the millions--they will be channels of Your love, Your forgiveness, Your grace to the multitudes of earth. I pray for the day their ministry will literally encircle the globe. Where millions upon millions will be drawn closer to You, will love You, and trust You, and obey You because of their influence. Lord Jesus, bless their families... their families and the children's children's children yet unborn. That they may always love You, serve You, trust You, obey You. And that the legacy of these men will go on and on until You return. Blessed Holy Father, thank You once again for these men whom You've chosen, whom You've anointed, whom You've empowered. And may all glory, honor, worship and praise go to You. For we pray it in the name of the One whose name is above every name, the Lord Jesus Christ, Amen."

[Actual interview and prayer can be downloaded here.]

I feel the Lord saying to me: Well done, good, faithful, and broken servant. You are now ready to serve Me.

Anything You want, Lord. I am and have always been Yours. Now more than ever before. Anything You want.

This Change IS Real

The following is a pretty graphic post. If you get easily offended, stop now and don't read any further.

- - -

I did it.

I went online and looked at images of nude men.

This change I've been talking about? It's real. I've given it yet another test, and...

IT'S REAL!!!

The most incredible looking guys still look good. But they don't have anything to offer me.

Their bodies remind of me Brother A's body. I have access to Brother A's body. He'll let me touch him, look at him closely, and after all that, he'll give me the biggest, warmest, most loving hug and kiss on the cheek. For all of my insecurities, he loves me fully, no matter what, like I am his own son.

The mystique of the "perfect-male-other" is gone.

IT'S GONE!

What these images once offered me were "pathways" to deep, emotional connection with men. But now that I have Brother A fully, it seems I don't need these pathways anymore!

In fact, what's really interesting is, I looked at a couple of images of men masturbating and ejaculating. Instead of wanting to be with them, or masturbating them, or having them masturbate me, I saw in these images, straight men desperate to put their penises in a vagina and ejaculate inside a vagina. As a result, it excited me, not to be with them (because I have the same penis and sperm), but it got me excited about having sex with a woman.

Incredible.

(I must confess, however, that I also looked at images of women.

Dangerously seductive. That's all I can say.

I did not dwell on them though, lest I become unfaithful to my wife in my mind when I am next having sex with her.)

Anyway...

I am amazed. I am truly amazed. I thought that it might be too dangerous to "tempt" my change by going to look at sexual images of men. But I'm okay. In fact, when I saw some good-looking erect penises, I thought to myself: "Good for you! A healthy, erect penis. That's what a man is supposed to be like."

In summary, I am not only not tempted sexually, the images move me towards heterosexual thoughts, PLUS I am able to celebrate their maleness, as I identify with them, as part of God's wonderful creation.

What a strange and new revelation!

Here's the last thing I need to do now: fully accept this change, and don't fight it anymore.

Lord Jesus, I thank You for the change that I am experiencing. It has come from You, and it is REAL. I have no more doubts that this is real. If it doesn't stay, so be it, but as far as I know, it is real, and I rejoice and FULLY ACCEPT this change. I have prayed for this since I was 13, and I had given up hope that change would ever come. But it is here, and I embrace it, fully. Make me the new straight man that You want me to be. I want to me molded into Godliness as a man, and allow my adolescent male sexuality to be honed by Your Word and Your ways. Thank you for all of the brothers that You have placed in my life, and especially Brother A. I don't know what You would like me to do with this change, but I am willing to do whatever You desire. Guide me, lead me, show me Your desires. I am, Your servant, Your child, Your man.

Unbridled Adolescent Male Sexual Energy

Christian authors writing on sexuality talk about sex as more than genital sex (i.e. erotic sexual behaviors) but also gender. There is something "sexual" about just being male.

It is in this context that I used the term "sexual" in "unbridled adolescent male sexual energy."

Anyhoot...

Over the last week, I have woken up with an erection four times. Along with that is the desire to masturbate and have an orgasm. And along with that are images of naked women swimming in my head.

O.o

I don't even know who I am anymore.

Thank God I have a wife who can satisfy my new heterosexual libido. Otherwise, I think I WOULD go out and find a girl and do it. Over and over again.

I never understood how men could do it before. This "wham, bam, thank you ma'am." How can anyone have sex with another person, and then it's all over and they want to go away?

I once asked Brother M what his constant desires for women was like, and he said, "it's just a pure thrill." Kind of like riding a roller coaster. "How shallow," I replied, as the haughty more-sensitive-than-thou SSA man.

But I understand it now. I see women, I see their sex, and I want them. Just for plain sex. Not intimacy, not love, just plain sex. Yah, yah, it's intimate and all, but NOTHING like the warm, fuzzy, oh-love-me-all-over feelings that I used to get when fantasizing about men. Now, it's just a raw, sexual, I-just-want-to-hump-you feeling.

How shallow, this new me.

Anyway, because my wife and mother-in-law are the coolest women on the face of this planet, I told them how I was feeling.

And mom said, "you know, what do adolescent boys think about? They just want to score! It's kind of like that, isn't it?"

Bingo!

Remember over the last two posts, I talked about anger, and this wanting to compete and to fight? Well, I think it's all part of the same package. I think what I am experiencing is unbridled adolescent male sexual energy.

: Wolf-like howl! :

(Thanks, mom-in-law, yous da bess.)

An Anger Brewing, Redux

The previous post here.

My apologies for swearing. I know it hurts some of your sensitive eyes to read ef-words and aitch-words. But I wanted to get my point across. I was feeling anger, and I wanted to write authentically out of that place.

But after some reading, I am starting to think that what I am feeling is not so much anger but... another natural element of my emerging manhood, which I alluded to as "testosterone" in my previous post. I got this revelation thanks to a new online friend who pointed me to Van Den Aardweg's writing.

In the final chapter of his book, The Battle For Normality, Aardweg writes:

...let the homosexual man, when the occasion offers itself, participate in a competitive game like soccer, or baseball and really try to do his best, even if he is anything but a star on the field. And without self-pity; persevere and fight. Some have afterward felt wonderful; a sportsmanlike fight - meaning a victory over the "poor me" self - can make one feel deeply that one is "a man".

That's exactly what I want to do out of this "angry" feeling I have inside: a desire to go out and have a good fight! In ancient times, robe on an armor and go fight a dragon. In today's terms, take up a ball and jostle in the courts. Or maybe even put on some gloves and beat the shit (yeah sorry, ess-word) out of each other--all in good competitive [read: manly] fun.

It's like I don't exactly have a specific someone or something I am angry at. I am just feeling aggressive, and I want to let out my aggression.

Aardweg also wrote this, which is incredibly comforting to me:

Heterosexual feelings come only in the wake of restored feelings of manliness... There should be no 'training' in heterosexuality, however, for that would feed the inferior self-image: 'I have to prove my manliness.'

No need for training in heterosexuality, the feelings seem to just "wake up." This has been my experience exactly!! Brother A's unsexualized yet deeply intimate and fatherly love for me has smashed into bits the huge boulder that blocked my heterosexuality from emerging. Now that the blockage is gone, the natural (yes, NATURAL) tendency for heterosexuality is emerging without my trying.

PRAISE GOD! WOO HOO! PARTY ON... and all that unbridled adolescent male sexual energy.

[I have more thoughts about these and other feelings that I am having as fitting into "unbridled adolescent male sexuality." But I'll blog about it in another post tomorrow.]

An Anger Brewing

There is an anger brewing deep within me.

I don't really understand what it is yet.

Something to do with this change I have been experience. Something to do with anger at homosexuality and gay-advocates. And also anger at all of my years of loss.

I am starting to get sick and tired of people questioning my change experience.

If you don't believe that my experience and what I write is authentic, then get the fuck off my blog. It's that simple!

And where the hell are the people who are supposed to be experiencing change? Why am I the only one experiencing it? Why is it that so many "Ex-Gay" people say that they are still able to be tempted and then they add that "but my temptations don't define who I am?"

What the hell?

If you are a man who is still tempted sexually by another man, then you are homosexual. Don't try to complicate matters.

As for me, that sexual attraction is gone. GONE!

AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT!!!

The only thing I have to replace the warm fuzzy orgasms I used to have fantasizing about being made-love to by a strong, handsome, muscular man is... A N G E R.

I don't understand it.

- - -

Wait... it just came to me.

This anger.

I got it.

It's anger at men.

It's anger at not being able to connect with men.

It's anger at years of not being able to be accepted as the man that I am feeling I am now.

The anger says, "Yeah, you want to fight? Okay, I'll show you who's the man around here, you pussy!"

Oh my god.

Is it testosterone?

WTF!

I NEED TO TALK TO OTHER GUYS WHO CAN EXPLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME!!!!


[Note to self: Before this anger came, there was a sense of "emptiness" for several days in place of my SSsA. See this post.]

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].

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.

An Exclamation (a.k.a. An Emerging Masculinity)

I just need to let this out: I LOVE BROTHER A!!!!

I think I have developed an "addiction" to non-sexual male intimacy and have lost my addiction to gay pornography.

Key words: non-sexual, male, intimacy.

I want deep relating with men.  It makes me feel so good and complete as a man. And in turn, a new gentle and attractive masculinity that I have never before experienced in myself seems to be emerging.  A masculinity that melts the hearts of men, yes, even straight men (and I'm avoiding women like crazy because I know they'll flock to me in no time -- my wife can't keep her hands off me)! It's so friggin' attractive! XD

[Don't flog me for being proud or boastful, I write it as I experience it.]

I love the new me I am experiencing, praise God, and thanks to my amazing Brother A!

p.s. Part 2 to Summary Reflections #1 to come when I have some time this week. I printed out Part 1 for my wife to read, and she absolutely loved it. Thinks I should write a book. [o . O]

Crying and Masculinity

There is outward masculinity and there is inward masculinity. When I put on outward masculinity without a fully developed sense of inner masculinity, I am only pretending to be a man.

One sign of masculinity I learned as a boy is to be able to withhold from crying.

Question: How do you make a sensitive, highly relational boy not cry?

Answer: Tell him that what he feels at the very core of who he is makes him a useless homo.

In other words, crush and destroy who he really is so that a more masculine and socially-acceptable boy can magically take over.

Today I feel like crying.

It goes against everything I've been conditioned to believe and value. "Boys don't cry" is a shell I have worn for ages. And I've worn it (and other such "masculine attributes") so well that people have trouble believing that I truly struggle with same-sex attraction.

Buyer beware: Empty masculine shell is hollow on the inside and prone to masturbate to sexualized images of other men.

"Boys don't cry?"

That's bullshit. Another piece of bullshit that led me to sexualize my deep need to emotionally relate and feel safe with other men.

Today I cry...

• for Brother A because I see him struggling under his stresses and past hurts.
• for me because I have to be strong for Brother A when I need him so much to be strong for me.
• with relief, realizing that there is this part of me strong enough for even a man like Brother A to feel safe to lean on.
• for all the other SSA men who have sought me out as a source of strength and support.
• remembering that many straight masculine men come to me in real life and cry before me in the safety and confidentiality of my office.

Today, I cry that my boy-soul is finally recognizing that he is one and the same with this strong man on whom so many other men lean.

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.