My mom didn't start saying she loved me until she became a Christian in the early 80's. Now she says it almost every day, and I feel like she's doing it to make up for all those lost years. As far as I'm concerned, those "I love you's" are empty because she's been saying it to the straight Michael she's always preferred instead of the Michael actually in front of her. And because of that, I've learned to tolerate her acknowledged denial of my life.
Fives are heady types, supreme thinkers and philosophers, as Will confirms his "endless curiosity" for books and learning, and returning to school whenever he hits an existential crisis. Enneagram expert Ian Cron describes Fives as the most misunderstood type, people with emotions beneath their intellectual exterior, and Will confirms his journey with processing difficult emotions. He shares the appeal of intellectual attraction versus physical attraction for the Five, and he explains how his problem-solving nature wanted to "fix" his "gay problem" in adolescence. During stress Will admits getting disorganized and clingy, but during security he's passionate about strengthening the people around him – where, as a pastor, his Five-ness particularly shines. During times of doubt and questions, Will returns to the Gospels and his love for how Jesus makes sense of this world.
Tom and Alex discuss the qualities they love about being Fours: artistic, empathetic, and yes, unique. In times of security they're objective and productive, taking action and creating things that add beauty to the world. A Four's "superpower" is empathy, giving others permission to "feel all the feels" with them, too. Tom and Alex also dive into their dark side of Four-ness: the neediness, the manipulation, the constant craving for approval, particularly from other men. Fours are often described as people who perceive lacking a critical "missing piece," and as queer or SSA men this hits especially deep for Tom and Alex. In adolescence did they miss some critical component for masculinity or sexuality, along with connecting with the other boys? What is the path forward for a Four in those whirlwinds of emotional stress?
For so many years I thought I was just dirty, lustful, and awful for thinking all these terrible sexual thoughts. I was filled with constant shame because the sexually intrusive thoughts kept coming. The realization that I can actually, with practice, redirect my own thoughts, is more freeing than I can write.
Phillip Henry died yesterday at 29 years of age. That was the short, somber text message on my phone. No! Not Phillip! I thought. He was such a close friend. That last thought was only a half-truth. My friendship with Phillip had only just begun, and I'd had such hopes for it. Now, he was gone.
Who am I? This could be a question for self-edification or self-deprecation. A question answered with set shoulders and proud confidence, or a rhetorical question asked to oneself at the depths of loneliness and despair. The best way I have determined to answer that question is I am...loved by God.
I still have that Link costume somewhere in my closet. Perhaps it's the wandering through the woods that I love, the isolation, the music; or, perhaps it's something deeper that has stuck with me after all these years. Perhaps it's that I feel like the protagonist: adrift in time, unsure whether I'm a child or a man. This is how I feel as I move back into my childhood bedroom – the place where my sexual trauma occurred.
Years ago a YOB post like this initially proved to me that this site had something new and interesting to offer the world. It made me feel seen and understood like almost nothing I had read before.
Many gay or SSA folks experience a delayed or second adolescence in adulthood after keeping our sexuality secret in our first adolescence when we unconsciously adapted to the heteronormative culture around us. When we finally do find safe masculine circles, whether within YOB or elsewhere, conversational topics like sex or masturbation, or shared male experiences like nudity and cuddling hold great appeal – if not laced with some of that adolescent immaturity or a tinge (or bucketload) of obsession.
Does nice equal good? Does strong equal toxic? Commiseration is a drink that intoxicates quickly, yet we must weep with those who weep. Am I a man? Am I strong? What am I, and where is my place? What is the nature of masculine strength?