I think it's ironic, but I really believe our stories may be better received by unbelievers than some churches. Fortunately, my story is different. Most people have patiently heard me out and graciously extended loving support.
Some of the happiest periods of my life took place during college and grad school. I lived with a group of eight guys, and they were the greatest friends one could ask for. As their dating relationships grew more serious, I felt myself going down on their list of priorities. Some of those friends got married. And our friendships effectively ended.
I'm always thankful for God leading my friends closer to Him; sometimes, though, I wish that didn't mean actually moving them.
The shame over my SSA made me feel that I was something evil, repulsive, and unlovable. My loneliness and lack of friends seemed to prove it.
Knowing I'm still loved and accepted when I bare the deepest parts of me has meant so much. Through these friendships, I've grown more confident in myself.
I've talked to a lot of people about this rejection and they've all said they don't quite understand the rejection and couldn't see anything I'd done wrong.
The other guys told me about the Korean spa and how those experiences helped them. This sounded like something right down my alley.
"We want you to help us reach LGBT people," my pastor said. "It's our belief that this is your true calling. And we want to help you."
I realized something while mowing my lawn: I was the only one pitying myself. The only person doubting my masculinity was me.
My father's Father's Day text message sat on my phone the entire time, still waiting to be read. A message that could potentially ruin my Father's Day.