Whenever I struggled, I sent my friend a message and he encouraged me. By all accounts, I started doing better with my depression. But that's how codependency can look at the start -- a "healthy" accountability relationship.
The guilt was overwhelming. How would I tell anybody what I had done? What would they think of me? Beyond other people, how would these events impact my faith? Where was Jesus during all of this?
It felt good to be close to another man. And yet, was it right (healthy, faithful, acceptable) to like this? Is this what acceptance in a physical sense felt like?
My daughter had been injured by an accident — something that had no one to blame or fault. And in that time, I needed to know that it was all going to be all right. I needed to know that it would work out. I needed hope. And I needed to restore my faith in that hope.
I love being a girl-dad. At the end of the day, my wearing some makeup or playing pretend with my daughter will not come to define her conception of gender.
Just imagining myself joining this group on this trip brought up several anxieties: the fear of sharing, sleeping, and showering among so many other guys. I also had masculine insecurities about cleaning up after Hurricane Katrina along with the ability to share my faith. But God is bigger than my anxieties. And as I'd eventually learn, jumping into the unknown with God tends to be the best option.
Shortly after becoming a Christian, I decided no longer to care about the denomination of the church I attended. It's worked out well so far. What's more, this new mindset has given me a bird's eye view of the Church and sexuality.
College held the hope for a fresh start. Home meant the weight of my double-life: the pain of lying about porn and "everything is okay" all the time; the great friendships that never felt deep or authentic enough for my broken self.
Henry and I had a great, heartfelt talk. But a realization hit me as we were talking: I don't want to share this conversation with anyone else. What we talked about that day was personal. Vulnerable.
We finished the day by taking silhouette pictures with the blazing orange-and-pink sky as our backdrop. My siblings lovingly kissed their spouses and lifted them up in the air as some of the most romantic and precious images I'd ever witnessed. I stayed to watch for a little while, knowing that no one would ask me if I wanted any pictures by myself. That would have been absurd, right? It didn't take long for me to reach the end of what I could handle with my family. So, I ran away.