Flying Straight Into The Flame

My modus operandi throughout the majority of my adult life has been to never back down from a challenge as it pertains to facing (& ultimately staring down / managing) homosexual desires.  Particularly when the man involved is of obvious platonic / relational value to Rob.  For I've come to quickly ascertain that sexual desire is fickle and not at all permanent.  As such, especially considering homosexual attraction's dubiousness, my mantra more often than not is "Who really cares?".

Now, let me rewind the clock for a few minutes.  I do not want to give you, dear reader, the impression that this cavalier attitude towards my sexuality nor my confidence in the "value of friendships" (with men I may be sexually attracted to - to whatever degree) themselves has always been.  Oh, Hell no.  

The first real formal relational attempt (what I'd hoped would be safe / healthy) that I pursued as a young man (tied to me being a Christian husband / father who'd experienced same-sex attraction extemporaneously since his youth) ended very abruptly.  And please know that regarding the moniker, "young man", I was around the age of 35 at the time.  Thankfully, I chalked this almost instantaneous flameout up to inexperience.  Nonetheless, I was quite desperate and very ready to find an authentic friend.  Especially one who might provide me with some sincere support / guidance.  That sincerity / desperation combined with enough confidence in myself, allowed me to quickly pick myself up / brush myself off and carry forward exploring the landscape for friendlys.  

Alas, even then, I began to suspect (& please know that I've never been a default pessimists) how difficult it might be to find authentic friendship even amongst other Christians.  For I was not naive enough to believe that fessing up to having homosexual desires wouldn't complicate matters / raise eyebrows.

Thank goodness I'm a bit of an exhibitionist at heart.

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Can I have a deeply satisfying friendship sans being authentic about my sexuality?  I'd say TODAY yes, but it's what I'd categorize as a 99% friendship. 

Back then, NO.  For no one (other than a handful of therapists, my wife / parents) had known this part of me, and eventually I reached a breaking point.

As such, today, I have subconsciously incorporated my same sex attraction into my "qualifier checklist" that I utilize to adjudicate potential friendships.  Does this mean a more sexually attractive guy might qualify?  Not necessarily within the viewpoint of the man on the street.  But, for me personally, I do find that when my masculine archetype is identified and notably combined with certain other characteristics, I (holistically) take notice.

And that's true for a lot of guys regardless of their sexuality.  Looks / posture / presentableness are impossible to ignore whilst sizing up another human being.

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This past week, I reached out to a Samson Society newcomer (after he'd shared his contact info with me post newcomer meeting) letting him know formally of my desire to befriend him.  I only did this having sought the counsel of a longstanding Samson brother.  For my concern was making this newbie feel cornered, and that was absolutely not my intent.

Nonetheless, this move grew out of me myself feeling exceptionally needy as of late.  Neediness as an outgrowth of some kind of fierce (seasonal?) loneliness.  

So here I am.  Admitting to that and waiting to possibly hear back from newcomer Samson guy, Pete.  And no, I'm not optimistic.  

In closing, I'm thankful to be able to admit to feeling this way over the past month or so, and as strange as it may sound, I'm grateful too for how it's tested my capacity to tolerate a pain that's not been distinctly present for quite some time.  For loneliness is like a low roar, at least for me, 'till it's much, much more.  

And yes, just so you know, I have delved back into gay porn as a result of this.  But nothing other than revisiting a handful of iconic videos from years past.  Videos that bring temporary comfort.  

Please pray for me to have the patience I need to endure this season of feeling alone / unseen. 

And one more thing.

Over the past four years (even during the pandemic), fall represented coming alongside my oldest daughter as she supported her now alma mater's football team as a member of the collegiate dance squad.  All that's come to an end now that she's graduated.  Hence, there's been a sizable shift in our autumn routine.

It's important to know that her college's football team, during the past four years, mostly embarrassed the school, game after game after game (though they did have one winning season which lead to a bowl game).  In light of this wretched ball playing, we only attended game days that were played on home turf, and then, only those that gave us an opportunity to support our daughter's squad in light of some particularly favored performance. 

Nonetheless, today was the first time I truly took stock of this routine being no more.  And I believe it too is taking its toll.   

That Tinge Of Infatuation

I've been hosting a virtual Samson Society newcomers' meeting since last December.  During the most recent one I hosted, I felt the tinge of infatuation for one of the newcomers.  

This hasn't happened before.  

The meeting is very straightforward (standard format meeting slide deck overview), and typically there isn't much discussion overall.  Nonetheless, each man is asked to relay where he's checking in from, what brought him to Samson Society and what he's hoping to get out of participating within this ministry.  These shares are usually between 2-8 minutes in length, and none of the content is unlike anything I haven't heard prior.

At the tail end, I ask each man if they're ready to "take the plunge into Samson Society feet first", and with a positive response (95% say YES!) sees me sending a specific robo-email invitation to login to www.samsonsociety.com / Samson Society's Slack community.  

And that's it in a nutshell.

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So, what do we as men do when we feel that circumstantial tinge (towards either females or males) within settings that are in no way romantically appropriate?

Do these feelings (themselves) provide a license to pursue the individual that's responsible for these sexual sparks?

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Here're the pragmatics -

Firstly, it's important for me to disclose that the Samson newcomer that served as the "infatuation catalyst"  didn't, in anyway, intentionally captivate that portion of my emotional core.  Instead, it had everything to do with how he looked within the Zoom thumbnail / how he sounded mixed with what he said exactly (which wasn't anything out of the ordinary).  Not to mention my own state of mind for such a time as that.

Secondly, there's the knee-jerk reaction that must be dealt with.  And that is this:  The desire to pursue that individual on behalf of these unexpectedly electrifying feelings.  

And thirdly, there's the state of mind after the fact and how we're to handle that internally.

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My best advice when you find yourself in a similar situation is to thank God for that part of your sexual self that's on point (no pun intended).  And in line with that, savor the feelings as well as the physiological response (erection).  From there, you do nothing.  Days will pass and these feelings will diminish naturally.  

Lastly, never, ever take it upon yourself to fixate on infatuation as if you're somehow able to read people with such expertise that you're then qualified to reciprocate accordingly (or worse, under some form of perverted obligation).  Please know that if it's impossible for you to turn away appropriately, seek out a Samson brother for support.

Samson Society, your workplace, church as well as numerous other settings - DO NOT EQUATE to a club / bar.  As such, you are expected to fall in line with the respective norms (particularly as a Christian man) towards yourself firstly and then to everyone else.

That being said, I'm a human and so are you.  Circumstantial sexual attraction is God breathed and such the gift of being an image bearer.  And as we all know, it can occur in some very unexpected settings / circumstances as we navigate through this life one day at a time.

Lagniappe

You Have No Control Over Your Friend's Priorities (Especially His Spiritual Priorities) As He Himself Leads As A Husband / Father

A few years back, I was blessed to meet Zane.  I'd felt so moved to participate in a day mission trip with our church, Lakeside Pres, in order to expose my youngest daughter to "Delta Streets" in Greenwood, MS.  This private all-boys academy was founded by a man who'd grown up in our church, and I knew enough of it to know of its impact and solidarity as a ministry.

It was a steamy summer day in '22 when our group of 15-20 Presbyterians made the early morning trek.  Zane, at the time, was only officially visiting Lakeside Pres with his wife and two elementary age daughters.  He'd heard about this Saturday missional opportunity, and despite not knowing anyone all around, showed up to participate.

And this speaks to one aspect of what initially and continually draws me to him.  

Zane is like Superman.  Selfless and willing to work really hard to help others.  And this correlates too as it pertains to his physical stature.  Though he's not a head & shoulders taller than most men, his upper body is built like an ox.  That combined with the 4" neatly manicured black beard / olive skin makes him appear like some sort of lumberjack mercenary.

What I soon discovered too, that also correlated similarly (Man of Steel analogy) is that Zane sees himself as "not at home in this world".

He grew up impoverished in rural Mississippi, and though he physically exited that setting immediately following graduating high school, his heart never did.  Every family member of his (& he's fiercely loyal to each) is still there, and they communicate regularly.  As such, when opportunity knocks, he points his GMC truck southwest 'till he arrives in remote Franklin County.  And once he's there, he'll stay as long as conceivably possible.  

Zane's father died unexpectedly 2-3 years prior to me meeting him.  In fact, according to Zane, as his father's health failed, he chose to suffer privately, and in lieu of seeking out medical care (his excuse was his lack of health insurance coverage), he passed away quickly as a result. 

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With our family's platonic support (we quickly took these younger folks - they're about ten years younger than us - under our wing), Zane's troop joined Lakeside Pres.  In line with that, his oldest daughter became involved in the church's youth ministry!  This child is socially awkward, quiet and reserved.  As such, it was a big leap for her (she's one year younger than our youngest daughter).

Up to the past few months, Zane and I have lunched regularly.  He's a fantastic listener / very intelligent / great conversationalist, and I've found him to seemingly warm up to "life in the big city" as I've had the opportunity to expand his horizons a bit.  Lol.

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What I've discovered though about Zane, that I cannot reconcile at this point, is how he prioritizes for himself & his side of the family (his people back home), the opportunity to fill shoes that belonged to his dad.  Is it guilt or loneliness or laziness / rut, or is this actually normal behavior that I shouldn't even question? 

His dad's deer camp is the epicenter of this role play.

For those of you who've no idea what deer camp is, let me provide a quick overview.

A large percentage of rural (& urban) Mississippi white men aggressively hunt the white tail deer (& prepare extensively year-round to do so - via bow & gun season) at their individual deer camp.  The camp itself consists of hunting land along with some semblance of a centralized waylay point.  This hub can be as basic as a series of makeshift structures large enough to shelter antiquated RVs to elaborately designed / built lodges that feature every imaginable, present day luxury.  

What Zane has access to back home, now that his dad is deceased, is far more in line with the former than the latter.

Nonetheless, when his dad died, he chose to purchase his father's membership within his particular club, and from there, he's never looked back.

The older men who were once his father's community have now become his community, and he absolutely loves the experience of "carrying the torch" forward.  These men, no doubt, love Zane as they loved his dad in their own unique ways.  Like father, like son.  As such, I've no doubt they, in turn, grieve their loss of Zane's father through his very presence.

As such, though he's loathe to admit to it, investing his time / energy therein is his main emotional / spiritual priority.  It feels natural and safe.  Plus, it's home for him.

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What I'd hoped for in Zane when he and his brood joined our church was for that commitment to be more than checking a box.  And as you can imagine, me seeing him VOLUNTEER his time so selflessly early on only added to that hope.

But his deer camp family is where it's at, therefore his church family has always been / continues more & more to be kept at arm's length.  And it may remain that way for as long as I'm privileged to call him friend.

Why does this matter?

If Zane were a bachelor, it wouldn't.  But he has a wife and two daughters, one of which just entered high school.

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White women who're wives / mothers, typically do the prioritizing (choosing) to either put their families in the church house on Sundays, Wednesdays, etc. or never darken the door.  Women tend to care about their family as a unit, and for those who see holistic church involvement as an asset, they're going to own that pursuit for their brood.  Therefore, their husbands need not necessarily lead in this regard.  Instead, the role of deacon / elder may serve to be their primary focus therein.  

Within Zane's family, this isn't the case, therefore due to Zane's priorities being elsewhere (as I've described above), church has slowly taken even more of a backseat for his entire clan.   

Zane's wife is, like so many women her age, captivated by every facet of social media.  To the point that she's a conspiracy theorist.  She also struggles with her physical self image, but partially due to the social media captivation, makes no committed, ongoing effort to address the issue. 

Zane's now high school daughter literally has her pocket computer glued to her face whenever she's awake (which based on my understanding is far too much considering the typical 24-hour day).  And this child is highly intelligent and very, very secretive / manipulative.  

And then there's the youngest daughter.  She's sort of the tagalong of the fam.  She's a tiny little thing, loathed by her older sister due to her ability to instantaneously draw attention / concern from seemingly anywhere.  

All that being said, if Zane doesn't "rally the troops" each and every Sunday / Wednesday, ain't nobody he's responsible for darkening the door of Lakeside Pres.  And I can't change that. 

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In conclusion, here's another caveat for you to chew on regarding this friendship of mine.

Zane strength trains regularly far more than I do.  In fact, we'll unexpectedly rendezvous at the Y during the week in the early evenings.  In fact, that's become a more regular occurrence (when we first met, he was going during the wee hours of the morning).  

And he's just as disciplined as I am regarding his specific routine.  In other words, he's not there for any other reason than to put in the work.  

If I didn't / hadn't come to know him through Lakeside Pres three years ago, I would NEVER approach him therein within that setting.  In fact, it's quite humorous (internally) to me as I imagine what it must look like for he and I to chitchat whilst leaning over the bed of his GMC truck out in the Y parking lot (as the sun sits low over the western horizon) post workout.  We're an odd coupling, for sure. 

And we could talk for hours.  For whatever reason, he considers me safe and I too see him as such in turn.  

I think in many ways, I'm like one of those older men from his Franklin County deer camp, but I just happen to be here in the "big city".  And I'm fine with that.  I just worry about his brood as I see time / opportunity slipping away.  But is this worry misplaced / overblown?

And that's how I prove to myself that I love this man like a brother.  It's my desire to want the very best for him and his family.

Nonetheless, I can only pray and provide support in light of the influence I've been afforded for such a time as this.  This brother is NOT a Samson brother.  Hence, restraint is expected.  Ultimately, I need faith to let him lead his life / family as he sees fit.  It's the respect I owe him just as he's afforded that same respect towards me.

Living Out A Marriage Built On Lies / Deceit (HIGH RISK!)

I've been swimming moreso this summer than I've ever swam.  This being the result of my gosh awful foot sprain (no more running!).  Ouch.  We're members of the Y, both of which have pools (two indoor / one outdoor).  

One recent weekend, I couldn't help but notice a fellow sun worshipper / swimmer (young husband / father) stolen away from his lovely fam.  As was usually the case on a Saturday, the pool was hopping with rednecks.  This young white guy was lounging on the pool deck close enough to Rob for me to hear him covertly dialoguing with someone over his pocket computer.  His verbiage was low and muffled, but distinct enough for me to know for certain that he was talking on his phone (sans holding the device up to his head).

I quickly surmised that he was there begrudgingly for an "all Saturday afternoon" outing alongside one other nuclear unit (friends from church / the travel sports team?).  As such, for those few long minutes, both his wife / girlfriend and the children (his?) were splashing around without him, no doubt, all the while curiously wondering why he'd chosen to steal away.   

His female companion eventually sashayed over adroitly in frustration.  And that's when he lied to her about what he'd been up to.

From there, he exited stage left to the outdoor men's restroom.  I have no doubt that another cellphone call ensued only this time, it was behind closed doors.

I strongly suspected he'd been / was now chatting to someone his wife / girlfriend wouldn't approve of.

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When Angie and I were dating (mid '90s), we traveled together to NOLA for some event related to one of her friends from college.  If you've an avid reader of this blog, you know NOLA is where I first longingly gazed upon / consumed full frontal male nudity (photos within Playgirl) when I was a high school student.  

As such,, as a follow-up to what had occurred in 1990, I took it upon myself to at least attempt to view some additional print smut whilst in the Crescent City.  Nonetheless, I had to lie to my girlfriend / future wife in order to maneuver around her constant sweetheart presence (long enough to attempt to peek).  

Had to lie.

Had to.

Lie.

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When I was participating in my third in-person Samson Society spring intensive / retreat in '17, a longtime Samson brother sheepishly admitted to having affairs with 26 women whilst married to his then wife.  He said this with a grin on his face, having not gotten caught even once.  

It wasn't long after that retreat that we unorthodoxically brought our families together for a restaurant meal.  It was undeniable that my brother's primary intent therein was to adjudicate the looks of my wife in steed.  I distinctly recall his decades-long bride being lovely, though my heart broke at her naivety.  

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Mr. Nate Larkin has often triangulated me into friendships with married men who, like myself, experience same-sex attraction.  And some of these have fucked A LOT of other horny men through the years.  What's unique about these guys is the "seasons" of illicitness they tend to fall into, taking their entire adult lives into consideration.  

Too, many of these men have wives that seem not the least interested in knowing the full extent of their husband's unfaithfulness.  Instead, she chooses for it to stay much more conceptual.

This can make for a recipe for disaster.  

Why?

Full disclosure as it pertains to unfaithfulness can do two / three extremely important things instantaneously.  

1.  Protect the wife's health.  If she's privy to her husband's affairs, she can take steps to protect her physical body - both in that moment & on down the road.

2.  Dramatically increase the chances that her husband won't cheat (at least to the same degree) again.

3.  Kickstart / turbocharge her husband's recovery effort. 

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Now, what's the future to look like post full disclosure?  No one knows 'till that particular couple cross that bridge.  And that's why so many men shy away from that journey.  Especially if they're same-sex attracted men.  For the shame over their attractions tend to burden them intrinsically.  Not to mention having to deal with outside (normal) points of view (spouse / family) in respect to Full Disclosure.

On the flip side of this is the straight married man who runs headlong into illicit behavior unchecked, amassing years upon years of downright mind-blowing adulterous behavior (marathon / serial cheater).  These are dual persona husbands / fathers who gravitate towards strip clubs, massage parlors, phone sex and porn as if they have two dicks to contend with.  

When these men finally reach the end of the line with their tortured spouse / family, though they may beg / plead for mercy, everything related to those previous familial relations will be lost forever.

I've seen it with my own two eyes.  Samson Society has delivered that fatalistic point of view to me on several occasions.

What's The Secret To Long-Term Involvement Within Samson Society?

There're two parts to properly answering this question.

1.  You must have a strong backbone.  Specifically, you're going to encounter all manner of men.  With stories & personalities that run the gamut.  Over time, you're going to suspect that some of these men aren't part of this community in regard to their recovery.  And it's those that, once you realize this, can truly wear you down / get on your last nerve.  Some of them wear a "recovery persona" (during meetings, in particular) that they use to qualify their presence because they're conscientious to their true intentions (otherwise they'd be mentally ill). 

Samson Society is free / open to the public, therefore all manner of men gravitates to it (in line with their specific "interpersonal crisis" / needs).  Considering the virtual meetings, it's even more of a free for all.  And, I would argue, that much more "socially fluid".  In other words, it's very easy to disguise oneself when you only truly exist within a thumbnail window / within a private chat network like Slack.

As such, keep in mind, this ain't no private, members-only Country Club.  & it absolutely shouldn't be.  This is one of the primary reasons I've invested of myself herein for as long as I have.  

A quick tale:  My wife and I are Presbyterian.  There're numerous reasons for that, but one minute one is Presbyterians tend to not be crazy-ass or dumbasses (low intelligence).  Earlier this year, a crazy couple showed up to our church (there're A LOT of crazy-ass / dumbass people in MS) and immediately began annoying the heck (accosting) out of anyone they were successful in making eye contact with.  Eventually, they drifted away from the church as more and more Presbyterians would bolt whilst seeing them coming their way.  

Samson Society has its proportional share (miniscule minority) of these folks.  And it should.  It's not a church (& certainly not a Presbyterian one).  As such, you must learn to filter through these encounters whilst keeping a high-altitude / overarching perspective.  In kind, you're going to need to brush past the tangential skirmishes that these men tend to provoke within the community itself (whilst absolutely refusing to get involved / passing judgement).

Another hint that works wonders for me:

Focus, focus, focus on the motive behind why you're truly here.  And this leads me to point #2.

2.  You must be a men's minister at heart.  Firstly, for yourself and then for others.  So, what does it mean to be a men's minister?  

You must have a specific curiosity towards men that drives you forward.  All manner of men (including the crazies).  Young, middle-aged, old.  Every demographic, race / creed and sexual orientation.  As such, this curiosity will provide a never-ending drive towards discovering / engaging with men as Jesus exemplified within the gospels and as scripture alludes to as a whole.  

And you do this firstly FOR YOURSELF and your own recovery.  Not to make lifelong friends or to pad your resume.  

Men's ministers feed off other men, and in turn, they're shored up / buttressed in kind.  How?  

I find that first & foremost, it happens by forcing me out of my own head.  Thereby, by marinating on other needs / stories, I can best manage my own (forced perspective).  

Is there anyone on planet Earth who's more "upstairs" than Rob?  I doubt it.  Blame it on me being an only child, I suppose.  Each & every time, via my intentionality, Samson Society provides the opportunity for me to step out of the attic and into the sunlight.

In closing, Jesus made a point to tolerate the Judases and Peters, "sons of thunder" and so forth.  And he did this without driving wedges / tipping his hand as to what his true feelings were for any and all individuals within that motley crue.  Sure, he had his favorites, but those feelings were likely mutual.  

In the end, he loved these men as the ultimate men's minister!  Therefore, it's his example that we should follow as we continued forward along The Path.

Stay committed men.  Samson Society needs your tenure.

Choosing To Not Be Bitter / Jaded In Spite Of Being Read (& Tremendously Scarred By) The Riot Act

I had the privilege to delve into volunteer work in my early 30s (20+ years ago).  This volunteer leadership position that I was appointed to was far more demanding / intimidating than I ever could have imagined it would be, and much of that challenge centered around the individuals I was tasked to serve alongside (we were all appointed simultaneously / I knew none of these older men).

About three years into my volunteered position tenure, tension between myself and another volunteer had reached a fever pitch.  As such, that tension reached its inevitable conclusion whilst having to confront him regarding some questionable funds' (organizational) usage.  And that's when I was read the riot act (thankfully I wasn't alone with this colleague when this lambasting occurred).  And when I say I was read the riot act, I'm talking expertly / with zero restraint.  I remember feeling afterwards as if I'd been fire hosed down with gasoline prior to my colleague lighting a match.  

There's a current phrase for this:  scorched earth.  As such, any semblance of remaining relationship was completely burned up after this 10–15-minute deluge of spite.

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A few years back, I surprisingly encountered my former volunteer colleague.  We eventually spoke politely (as subsequent encounters occurred), and I was hopeful for some sort of potential reconciliation.  Choosing to not be jaded / bitter was the best position to take. 

Unfortunately, today, I'm again having to face down this same man due to me, once again, stepping up to volunteer (identical organization).  He's already made it very clear that the calendared rendezvous itself is a huge waste of his time / energy.  

Thankfully, once again, I won't be alone during this juncture.

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What's clear to me as I head into this is the following:  This man is allergic to Rob and likely always will be.  And there's nothing I can do about that.

Therefore, I must minimize as much as possible during this meeting.  How?

I'm so grateful to be serving today alongside some excellent co-volunteers who're supportive and not at all naive / easily swayed (they've each been around the block).  Ultimately, my plan is less of Rob and more of them.

But my secret weapon is to remain hopeful about this situation.  And it is a situation.  I truly know nothing about the inner workings of this man and do not pretend to.  That being said, I'm older / wiser.  And though scars remain, my dignity is intact.  And that's what's most important to me.  

Some relationships barrel towards ending badly.  Very, very badly.  Nonetheless, as a Christian, in particular, be mindful of the approach you choose to take therein.  You have a witness to first & foremost protect.    

Is A Loved One / Friend / Professional Colleague Attempting To Drive A Wedge Between You & A Third Relational Leg (Parent / Common Friend / Professional Colleague or Bossman)? Read On.

Firstly, what is a relational wedge?  

It's an intentional (tangential) relational sabotaging technique used by individuals who feel a grievance has occurred between them and someone they're close to.  In tandem, these individuals often feel intensely justified to drive said wedge, but more often than not, their justification is only rooted in overwhelming negative feelings towards the griever (inflictor of emotional pain).  

But what's unique about wedges is that by definition, there must be at least three closely relationed individuals involved.

1.  The party who experienced the grievance

2.  The griever

[INSERT (POTENTIAL) WEDGE HERE]

3.  The friend / parent / coworker, etc. of both party 1 & 2. 

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What's unusual about some relational wedges is they're actually driven (attempted) forth between child & parent (via the opposing parent).  Why make the effort to do this?  Especially considering the baked-in longevity (stickiness tied to all familial relations) therein.  Nonetheless, let's say the parents are divorced, and now living separately.  And let's assume the divorce didn't occur amiably (as if any truly do).  Divorcee #1 can undoubtedly feel obliged / justified to drive a wedge between the child(ren) and divorcee #2, but just because it feels correct to follow through doesn't mean it's the smartest move long-term.

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A quick (decades old) story:

My first (large-scale, by MS standards) architecture firm job saw me hired on in '96 (by one of the four owners) who just happened to have - somewhat recently - remarried (to one of his employees / my now colleague).  His new honey was almost a decade older than he, and this woman (also a divorcee) had quite the chip on her shoulder (woman scorned...).  And to top that off, she was simply intimidating to boot (physically large / virago - professionally & otherwise).  

This woman is who first introduced me to the "art of driving wedges" within a vocational setting.  As such, as I became more comfortable with my role as an intern, she actively sought to weaken my professional / personal relationship with her husband via wedge driving.  Some of this was subtle but as my tenure increased, it only became more pronounced, especially considering how willing her husband (my boss) was to entertain her drivel.  Nonetheless, I lost more and more respect for both parties as the expected emotional exhaustion mounted.

As I'm sure you realize, I had no clue what I would be stepping into when I took this internship position.  All I knew was I needed employment (to serve as advancement towards eventually sitting for the Architectural Registration Exam).  But, man oh man, did I ever experience so much more.  All thanks to my boss's bed partner.  It was truly soap opera-like.  Yet, I'm so thankful to have walked through this young man experience.  Trial by fire, if you know what I mean.

A quick (much more recent) story (that went down a few years prior to the COVID-19 pandemic):

After coming alongside a newcomer (in-person Samson meeting attendee) that had been ushered / invited in by an old friend, this clinically depressed young man did such the unexpected by effectively driving a wedge between me and two other Samson brothers (+/-18 months into our friendship).  Keep in mind that I was considerably older than these guys.  Hence, their stage of life was so very different than my own.  But too, #1 wasn't from Mississippi, and as such, made it very clear how loathed he was as a "temporary resident".  

As such, I believe I became (to him) sort of a harbinger of all things Mississippi (immediately following my perceived grievance towards him).  As such, I believe, this further motivated him to drive that wedge as deep as he possibly could.

And as a result, just a short year later, that wedge had successfully metastasized into deep seated paranoia regarding Rob.  From there, the other longstanding Samson friendship imploded unexpectedly (yet spectacularly). 

Who would have imagined something like this happening within the auspices of Samson Society? 

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Once wedges are driven / established and the emotional / relational fallout occurs (as a result), you have a choice to make.

A.  Fight for the relationship's (between all THREE parties) "recalibration" ("equalization").  

B.  Politely walk away from the other two parties (as if no such wedge driving had occurred).

If you choose A, you're going to have to successfully bring all everyone together in order for you to insist on a "clearing of the air".  Sometimes this is impossible.  But, if it is, and you're successful in doing so, this can become a heated / passionate discussion that's likely going to deeply impact the standing (future trustworthiness) of #1 (the wedge driver) in light of the relationship's future.  Nevertheless, reconciliation is always a possibility, but especially so within Christian circles.

If you choose B, you're going to need to forgive these folks quickly, completely and quietly whilst moving on.  Why?  There's a good chance you'll bump into these (it's a small world) down the road.  In other words, cut your losses and exit stage left.  

Personally, I've done both and each is hard.  Mostly because you're the victim, therefore not only are you hurting as such but from there, you're saddled with following through with one of these two not at all easy relational choices (which only adds to the pain).

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Lastly, if you dear reader are or have found yourself as a #1 (wedge driver), give yourself some slack.  Relationships are filled with heady emotions.  Plus, talk is cheap.  Those two combined with our baked-in sin nature can make wedge driving (at times) almost impossible to revengefully / deceitfully resist.  Believe me, I speak from experience.

That Hot, Sexy Runner: Reversing The Clock By 20 Years...

Spring has sprung in Mississippi.  

During my drive home yesterday, 3/17 (I was within two miles of the house), I came upon a runner.  And not any runner, mind you.  This early to mid-30s man was at his physical peak.  And shirtless to boot!

The blind (topography) intersection he was running through was decidedly dangerous for both motorists & pedestrians, considering the lack of sidewalks much less curb and gutters.  Nonetheless, he was front and center of those of us behind the wheel as he sashayed his muscular, tanned frame, weaving in & out of the end-of-the-business-day traffic confidently.

I was close enough to deduce that his physique was not unlike any number of Special Forces soldiers (in spite of the 800-mile distance to Fort Bragg from Flowood, MS).  Perhaps, as such, he'd very much lost his way.

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A close Coonass (I love this man) friend of mine made the recent comment that he was in a much better place today than a month ago.  His thoughtful prose is always appreciated.

I have been chewing on that outlook for days now.  For I find it so very insightful as to how we should consider our recovery journey:  on a timeline.

If I were to turn back the clock twenty years, I'd be 32, married for 8 years with one child (toddler).  I'd be floundering (very, very bored with the work) at my first career-building architecture job and deeply, deeply entrenched (numerous hours a day) in gay porn's poison (both at work and at home via the www).  My physical health at this time was a non-priority in my life, and my walk with God also was on autopilot.  My sweet wife, Angie, was home with Babyone and only beginning to find side hustles (executable from home) to supplement her husband's meager income.  And just so you know, I had just relinquished my part-time gig as janitor at the architecture firm that I was employed at full-time.  The shame I felt for having to take on this humiliating (10-month) after hours gig was still - at this time - weighing heavy on my 32-year-old self.

To sum it up, I was in an extremely vulnerable / isolated place during this time of my life.  There was so much negative going on inside my head.  Negative that was terribly sensitive to even the most minute incendiary catalyst.

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Now then.  Let's drop my 32-year-old sorry ass self into the happenstance situation I encountered during my drive home yesterday, (3/17).

First and foremost, I would have instantaneously seen the situation for what it was to me at the time.  An opportunity to exploit.  High-definition mental snapshots of the shirtless stud would have ensued (as I steadied my glare), and from there, I would have had my lust fodder for the following week plus.  

Simultaneously, tremendous shame regarding my desire for this man would latch onto me as if it had been all along ready and waiting within my passenger seat.  These feelings would belittle and diminish me, no matter how well the hours of the day prior had unfurled.  As a result, a tremendous awareness of my feeling intensely isolated would become my front and center state of mind.    

Having identified an opportunity, I would then utilize my memorized photos / experience therein to cope (via heady sexual fantasy).  That opportunity likely would be after my sweet wife was asleep later on that evening.  The fantasies I would concoct would harken back to the very same ones from my adolescence (stitched together neatly through time).  All of those involved me being platonically pursued by masculine, athletically built men under the guise of sexual attraction / lust.

And this, my friends, is voyeurism.  And voyeurism is sin.

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The most noteworthy aspect of my 20-year-younger self - in regard to this spontaneous encounter - would be how specifically captivated he'd be.  It would be as if he were nothing but a void or black hole.  A void / black hole constantly seeking to be filled up via the attention / desire of other, only viewed from a distance, men.  

This was my life back then.  I managed it the best I knew how, but frankly, it was my chronic isolation that left me stuck therein.  

Yet, throughout, I had no idea how not to be isolated nor what it might look like were I not.  For this was and always had been my normal.  Especially from the standpoint of being whipsawed in and out of my routine relative to who / whom I might encounter circumstantially.

Certain men were in complete control of Rob.  And I knew of no other way to exist.  It truly sucked.

Thanks be to God that I'm in a much better place today than I was twenty years ago.

Especially Worthwhile Rewards / Henry's Red Phone

I'm reading Henry Bushkin's Johnny Carson (published in 2014).  Henry details his role (essentially as Johnny's Silas / Jiminy Cricket) as Johnny's entertainment attorney for +/-15 years of his life / career.  Johnny hired Henry within a period of interpersonal/ interprofessional vacuum (no one to trust) just as his second marriage was failing marvelously, and in spite of Henry's youth / inexperience, Johnny trusted him deeply from the outset (timing is everything).

It's an absolutely provocative read that I highly recommend.  Johnny's life was so much better lived / professionally successful with Henry in tow.  And arguably, so was Henry's though Johnny's philandering ways did eventually negatively impact him (to his own marriage's detriment).  

It's important to note that Henry's memoir regarding Johnny wasn't published 'till almost a decade after the entertainer's death, and that it was truly only he who was qualified to narrate those fifteen pivotal years of Johnny's illustriously lived life.

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There's a newbie Samson brother who's attended "Transparent Training Union" (which I host Sundays at 5 PM CST) consistently for +/- one month.  This dude, I also had the privilege of formally introducing Samson Society to via my Saturday morning newcomers' meeting (last month).  

Yesterday, (3/16) during a short "TTU" after meeting, he sincerely asked the remaining Samson men for advice on choosing a Silas.

Sitting there watching this man take Samson Society - combined with own recovery - so seriously, was incredibly humbling to witness.

There're so many men who step into a Samson Society newcomers' meeting, tell their stories, perhaps attend one or two meetings prior to quickly drifting away.  And I'm used to witnessing that and I suppose I should expect it.  But it's so rewarding to see the opposite occur on occasion.  For that was my story.  I seemingly had no other choice than to fully commit, and I was so grateful to have been presented with that opportunity.  

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What this man will find, once he does select a Silas (& I've no doubt he will eventually follow through), is there's a good chance he'll serve him with similar passion / attention as Henry Bushkin served Mr. Johnny Carson.  

In closing, early on in their relationship, Johnny Carson "recommended" that Henry install a red phone in his office, and that phone was to be his private line directly to Henry / Henry's secretary (remember this is decades prior to the invention of cellphones).  

I couldn't help but smile at this reference.

Desperation To Be Seen

I often ask Samson brothers who're just beginning the recovery journey, "What is it that you're truly looking for whilst consuming pornographic content?" 

For me, as a teen who found himself deeply entrenched in same sex attraction, it was the notion of being seen that hooked me deeper and deeper in.  Of course, all manner of physical beauty (photographed / filmed beautifully) certainly tapped into my artistic eye (as described in detail within my last post), but the deep-seated void, if you will, was centered on a desperate loneliness / feeling of isolation that was well beyond typical teenage angst.  

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One of my first architect bosses was genuinely interested in being seen in his own right.  I don't know what exactly drove this behavior, but it manifests itself via his constant attempt to visually impress his fellow man (& too, like me, was his ever-present penchant for the beautiful - clothes, shoes, automobiles, homes).  Specifically, my boss always wore the nicest clothes (shoes especially), drove the finest automobile, and lived in the poshest home (within the far upper end of his specific budget).  As such, these items were upgraded quite often.  To the point that every time you looked up, a new (spotlessly clean) vehicle was parked in his reserved space at the office.

I used to pity this behavior, but today, I realize how similar he and I truly were / are.

Being seen is really, really important to some, if not all men.  For those chronic feelings of isolation / loneliness truly suck.

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I began to know Jesus intimately early on as a teen, but mostly this knowing came from Scripture / (excellent) preaching and a boatload of fairly homogenous Mississippi (deacon body within our church) men.  

To segue from there, I also knew a boatload of pagan Mississippi men (extended family, friends' dads, neighborhood fathers, teachers) as a boy, and though there were distinct differences in persona / demographic, I had a tough time relating to any of them.

As such, becoming a man scared the hell out of me, knowing so little collectively from the representatives within my viewpoint. 

As an aside, I believe most men within earshot of me (as a young man) mistook this fear for arrogance / piety which only isolated me further.

There was only one man (besides my sweet, sweet grandfather) who saw me with any real clarity.  And that was my first boss at Chick-A-Fil.  In so many ways, he was a surrogate dad, and what a gift to me he was!  For not only did he see me unabashedly, but he lived his life in such a way that reflected his peace of mind as it pertained to being seen well himself.  Chris was amazing.

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Consuming gay porn, to me, was the safest ("protecting" those around me) means for me to feel seen.  It involved no other (real) men.  Plus, I could "control" the relationship since it felt so very one-sided.  

My desire to never harm anyone, in spite of my desperate need, kept me laser focused on this private approach.  

When the Internet hit the scene though, its (porn content) voracity instantly became unmanageable (a small creek bed instantaneously became the Mississippi River).  

Of course, Satan knew he was setting me up for bondage whilst inevitably taking the leap from analog to digital.  All the while making me that much more vulnerable as the Internet became more and more mainstream.

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I discussed veneering within my last post.  In many ways, identifying that has been my salvation.  I've watched the Holy Spirit hack away (at the veneering) therein, exposing the idol for what it truly is, roots and all.  

All of this is now coming together to deeply impact my understanding of my boyhood self.  To resurrect him, so to speak.  

In line with that is the reminder of all my past sin.  Sin rooted in lust.  It's daunting, for sure, but I will not allow it to trip up my progress.

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In closing...

How is it that God chose me as his child?  Why would he care enough about my core needs (being seen) to bring me into Samson Society back in August of 2014?

The Christian men I've met (many of which I've closely befriended) see me and in turn, I work diligently to see them.

And they just keep coming.  Thanks be to God for this ministry.  It's been and continues to be how I best manage my needs.  

Amazing Reunion

I spoke with my freshman roommate (Mississippi State University) yesterday, (2/17) for the first time since last seeing him in '91 (we didn't part ways amiably).  Having acquired his cell phone # from our aforementioned rental neighbors, I placed a call on Valentine's Day (don't read anything into that one, please), leaving Chad a detailed voicemail.

Later that night, he text messaged the following response:  "Rob, got your message.  It made my day.  Looking forward to catching up...I'll text tomorrow, and we can talk?"

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Chad was / is from South MS.  Very small-town South MS.  He was outgoing and kind but also terribly homesick throughout our freshman year.  He'd leave Starkville early every Friday (if not Thursday evening) and return late Sunday evening religiously in order to maintain as close contact with his family as possible.  As such, I was left alone every weekend, and since I had zero friends, it resulted in some depressing interludes (especially during Spring semester when there were no football games to attend).  

Everyone on our dorm hall liked / respected Chad.  He was affable and confident.  Athletically built and driven.  Plus, he had this beautiful smile that could diffuse anyone / any situation effortlessly (& he was almost always smiling).  

I, on the other hand, being the architecture student / Maroon Band member, in many ways, was the complete opposite of Chad.  First and foremost, I was hard pressed to succeed academically without putting in the work required (I was by no means a gifted student).  Architecture school catapults its students into the curriculum thereby making very little room for error.  And that's on top of a higher-level math + Physics I & II (Year One).  Freehand drawing too was a consistent drain, for drawing well (for Rob) takes lots of time / shouldn't be rushed.  As such, each week, we had another detailed drawing assignment to turn in for critique (in front of the entire class).  

Chad gave me a lot of space to buckle down, but often I'd use any "I'm too busy" excuse to simply avoid having to interact with him socially (going out to eat, having any semblance of fun).  And it wasn't like he was a hellraiser by any means (he couldn't afford to be for he was an engineering major).  As a result, eventually, he simply stopped making any effort to include me.

Chad knew I had a quick wit.  Plus, he was very curious to know me from the standpoint of being a city slicker.  And he saw too that I desperately needed friends (like every student) yet wouldn't admit to it (& therefore try / make time for it).  

Therefore, there was this tension or barrier between us.  A barrier that I silently, pridefully reinforced throughout our time together.  Yet, despite this immature tension, he never hesitated to take a stab at pushing through.  Never, 'till the very end of that year, did he completely give up on a potential breakthrough.   

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There were a couple of guys on our dorm hall that had unsurprisingly singled me out as a target for ridicule.  And, whilst looking back, I made it easy for them.  My choice of music (as well as the volume I played it) was so very gay.  

I realize now that Chad's sincere respect towards me worked as a shield from far more severe ridicule than I received.  Specifically, he never acknowledged my uncomfortableness with my body / voice or choose to exploit that in any way (there was never even a hint of mockery).  Instead, he simply chose to be polite / respectful / gentlemanly even.  

I think too that he knew deep down that if I seemed agitated (which was commonplace), it was due to my frustration with myself / the workload more than anyone / anything else. 

He was a very emotionally mature young man.  In fact, he was by far the most emotionally mature male, who happened to be my age, that I'd ever encountered at that stage of my life (late teens).

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Yesterday, Chad and I could have chatted for hours.  We did text message after dinner repeatedly, swapping stories to jointly reminiscence.  There were a lot of lol moments. 

Chad's life, beyond our freshman year, mirrors my own in so many ways. He married right after graduating college, has three kidlets (one of which was a happy surprise), and he resides too within his hometown near his beloved family.  

In closing, I can tell you that he's not given up on breaking through.  I could sense that yesterday throughout our talk.  Chad understandably knows me well.  And he's absolutely ready for me to corroborate his intuition.  That being said, it's brought back a lot of fear as I wonder what might become of this renewed friendship spark if I'm completely transparent as to who I was then / what I've become today.

2025 is going to be an interesting year as it pertains to this unexpected reconnection.  I owe this guy a lot.  Please pray for God's timing as we continue forward for such a time as this as middle-aged men.  

  

Privately Lusting After Muscled And Hairy

My Covenant Eyes Ally had me laughing a few weeks back.  He's an attorney with a sharp wit.  Around that time, I had found myself being rebellious, therefore throwing caution to the wind, I'd been delving into smut (mostly via my pocket computer) in spite of CE's consistent monitoring (thankfully, this was not typical behavior for me).  

As such, on a few subsequent Mondays, a text message would appear subtlety / respectfully asking about my recent poor choices.  Not long after that, my Ally made a follow up that even today puts a smile on my face.  

He said, "You and I like the same thing except for the muscles and body hair." 

Lol. 

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When I was in upper elementary school, I went to an all-boys' summer camp (sponsored by FBC Jackson), and it was there (rural south AL venue) that I was shockingly exposed to my inevitable & archetypical (physical / emotional) future.  What I mean therein is I experienced a distinct encounter pertaining to what my future was pointing me (maturation) towards as a grown ass man.  At the same time, there was young me dealing with an ongoing subconscious disconnect / emotional chasm.  A chasm rooted primarily in shame / uncertainty.  For I understood clinically (in my head) what I was destined to grow into, but I absolutely, positively could not relate / understand / comprehend on any level what that meant for me specifically.  For I simply could not see myself as anything other than an unprepared, uninitiated boy.  It was as if I was stuck or frozen when it came to all things related to Rob's potential, celebrated journey into manhood. Therefore, when the time came for me to face the truth of what was on the horizon for me as a male, it understandably threw me for a loop / short-circuited my thinking.  As such, I quickly began idolizing therein that which I could not fathom albeit was desperate to fully understand / respect.  

I'm now ready to admit that there was sexual abuse involved in my lower elementary days.  It went on throughout one summer (Saturdays specifically), and though it didn't involve physical touch nor any malicious coercive intent (that I sensed at the time nor recall), its situational age inappropriateness (between me and the adult male party involved) was subtlety apparent to me even then.  I recall feeling powerless to speak up for myself during these instances of abuse disguised as "male peer bonding".  As a result, I began to equate MAN with a future I couldn't / refused to relate to.     

To circle back to my summer camp story, the exposure occurred whilst brushing my teeth before bed on the first night we were there.  Our bunkhouse chaperone (young adult male college student) nonchalantly stepped out of the shower naked and wet right in front of me.  His muscled (very adult-like), hairy, tanned body was in its athletically built prime.  And his junk looked absolutely enormous despite the mass of damp pubic hair crowning / partially obscuring it.  

Whilst looking back, I'm absolutely sure it was his junk that was the most shocking.  For it truly looked like a horse / donkey dick and balls (to my 5th grade eyeballs).  

I spent most of that week privately fixated on this reveal as we went about doing your expected Christian summer camp travails (such as singing "Kumbuya, My Lord" around the evening campfires).  But what truly kicked this fixation into high gear was when our Chippendales-like chaperone ushered a select few of my 5th grade colleagues to bunk with him within his adjacent private room (throughout the remainder of the week).

Oh, how I secretly longed for him to have chosen me.  As you can imagine, my imagination went into overdrive as a result.  

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Yesterday, whilst at the Y, there was a high school newbie strength training alongside.  He was not properly dressed for the gym, and that may have conveniently been due to his lean build (he was wearing slacks).  I silently admired his chutzpah for braving the space (at his age / with his build) for I knew exactly why he was there.  To actively work towards becoming more muscular / strong / "man-looking".  And like so many newbies, it was obvious that he'd no clue as to what he was doing.

Full disclosure:  My time at that stage of my life was spent lusting after muscled and hairy men.  And even moreso if they were golden tan whilst sporting a handsome mug. I did this with so little thought that it was almost as if I spent sizable portions of my adolescence within a sort of homoeroticized lust trance.   

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When the Internet came on the scene (within the first few years of my marriage), I'd found my private, digital honey-hole.  The salacious imagery, particularly the stunningly executed images of beautifully tan, hairy, muscle men only served to suffocate me with lust fodder.  

Eventually, considering the I.T. inevitable, the maturation of the Internet (dial-up to DSL to T1, etc.) ushered in a much broader spectrum of captivating smut.  I watched as photos became videos became HD videos.  

But eventually (in large part due to my decade-long participation within Samson Society), the intense salaciousness wore off and this type of imagery simply became a repository for cheap thrills (it all began to look the same).  

In line with that, my libido dramatically diminished simply due to my middle-aging.  

Internet porn blandness + middle-age reduction in sex drive = Reason to celebrate!

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Today, I'm really pleased with my physical self.  For I'm muscled and hairy in my own right as a 52-year-old man.  I especially like how I feel whilst casually dressed.  Specifically, I don't feel as if I'm hiding my body via my wardrobe.

Consistent strength training / running combined with healthy eating habits, over the past +/-18 years, has paid off in droves.  And, of course, genetics have benefited me too.  I'm very thankful to God for these developments.

When you loathe yourself, whether it's rooted in some form of childhood abuse or not, you know that such a negative outlook makes you decidedly vulnerable.  Vulnerable to rejection, criticism, failure.  Things that are inevitable life experiences.    

In order to survive, I had to commit.  Both to Samson Society (once I stumbled into it in 2014) as well as a healthy, very active lifestyle that was the antithesis of normal for a Mississippi man.  It's been a long-term commit.  In order to protect / honor myself.  For I remember the hurt and the abuse like it was yesterday.  Those scars will never be erased. 

 

Ready To Listen? Ready To Be Heard? If So, Samson Society Might Just Be For You In 2025.

Mr. Nate Larkin has been hosting one of the (5-6 per week) "newcomer meetings" for quite a while now.  These meetings serve as a clearinghouse for men who're interested in joining Samson Society (gaining access to virtual meetings / Slack, etc.), and it's assumed they've never attended an in-person Samson meeting (i.e. they're very green).  

In essence, newcomers are able to reserve a seat at (again, 5-6 offered per week) upcoming newcomers' meetings on the homepage of www.samsonsociety.com.  From there, they receive an email invitation which gives them access at the set day / time of their scheduled meeting.  

I had the privilege to officially take the reins of Nate's regularly hosted newcomers' meeting this past Saturday, (12/28) in response to Nate's wife's request to be able to spend the full Saturday(s) with him going forward.  It was a whole lot of fun.

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The newcomers' meeting firstly, in my mind, needs to provide these men - who're brave enough to step up - with a concise description of what exactly Samson Society is and how it works.  And these newcomer meeting's foundations laid therein already does bring that to bare.  How so?  There's a specific newcomers' meeting slide deck that provides a one-to-one overview of a standard format Samson meeting.  As such, it's expected that me as the host, breeze through these at some point during the hour.  Besides that, what I also observed Mr. Nate Larkin relay were specific details as to his journey within 12-steps groups and how he'd attempted to overlay many of those attributes in light of his desire to foster similarly positive experiences within Samson Society (a personal justification / origin story of the Samson ethos).  

Therefore, there's a template here, but in regard to Nate's position as founder, he also brought so much firsthand narrative to the table.

But one truth that I keep coming back to is how - within a standard format meeting - guys essentially are given the opportunity / expectation to both listen intently whilst talking openly themselves sans any feedback.  This, to me, is what sets Samson Society apart.

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We are a culture built on individualism.  Individualism that's customizable to the nth degree.  This western culture approach has grown out of another cultural lynchpin.  That being unending criticism - from every side.  We westerners spend an enormous amount of energy / time critiquing everything around us.  And this is an outgrowth of our being image bearers.  For God offers the ultimate critique as he adjudicates our hearts with the deepest and most resolute sincerity.  

Because of this, we hide an awful lot of ourselves or choose to live separate lives depending on the surroundings we might find ourselves within.  And this is an inevitability, though as we age, I do believe there can / should be less and less of this default shielding.

Therefore, for those of us who find the results of these various approaches stilting, debilitating, suffocating, genuinely exhausting, I offer you Samson Society.  

And no, you don't have to have issues with anything especially compulsory or addictive to qualify.    

  

When Seduction / Sexual Conquest Fuel A Man's Masculinity Engine / "Boys Will Be Boys"

Perhaps you've heard the term "serial adulterer".  Or perhaps "womanizer".  Numerous high-profile entertainers (TV, film, music, sports) are labeled as such.  And that makes sense.  They're entertainers.  Suave.  Confident.  And oftentimes, very, very professionally successful (or at least aspiring / appearing to be).  

Have you ever thought of intercourse as calisthenics?  

These men don't but considering the alleged amount of coitus they're participating in...

Very few of these entertainment idols speak of regretting their impropriety / disinterest in monogamy.  And I believe it has a lot to do with how intricately linked their sense of / purposefulness in masculinity is to successfully seducing / bedding women (&/or men).

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So, what fuels these serial seducers?  Are they addicts?  Are their libidos truly that demanding?

When I was in high school, television news magazines (not including the mainstays like "60 Minutes" & "20/20") were becoming more and more ubiquitous.  As such, their topics were, in turn, becoming more liberal-minded (eyebrow-raising) as they competed for viewership.  One such episode featured a group of (white) teenage jocks who were brash enough, as it pertained to their underhanded "fuckpoints system", to be filmed touting their primary role (masculine identity) as young, sexually astute bucks. 

Because it was a TV news magazine, besides the expected headshot interviews, there was footage of the studs doing what studs do best:  looking studly.  Hence, they were weightlifting in the gym / competing on sports teams, driving their trucks around town but mostly they were collectively identifying women that they wished to seduce / bed (all the while updating their stats regarding their supposed lays).  

The "fuckpoints systems" they weren't at all shy about disclosing to the broadcast journalist who was responsible for the piece.  And when they were questioned as to their chauvinistic outlook, they brashly declared that "women longed to be fucked by a man".  And they said this with such conviction that the viewer came close to believing it.

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So, is that true?  

I know MARRIED men who're well into their Medicare years who're steadily connecting with women (initially online) who're absolutely interested in dialoguing about their sexual desires.  All in anticipation of performing sexually - to one degree or another - for these old fuckers.  

Keep in mind though that many of these whores receive some form of payment for access to their wet vaginas.  And though it may not feel transactional initially, it almost always ends up as such.

Ultimately though, the Medicare (sugardaddy) man gets one more score.  Just as if he's still playing the "fuckpoints game" from his younger limelit days past.

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All this that I'm describing is simply modus operandi.  And I would argue, it's the most deeply ingrained and therefore destructive motivator towards compulsive sexual sin.  For it bridges the man's brain to his genitalia and that bridge is distinctly tied to his "masculine purpose".  

And let's not forget that masculinity is THE most influential force on planet Earth (other than perhaps gravity).

This MO isn't one that's discussed within the Samson Society.  Why?  It's too taboo, seemingly stereotypical, etc.  Plus, our Heavenly Father / God's son is presented in the masculine.  Who cares to even imply that certain (hypersexual) degrees of masculinity equate directly to - to some degree or another - God's very creation in man himself?

Therefore...

You will hear the word "sex addict" an awful lot along with "triggers" within this community.  "Trauma" is mentioned often as well.  These words tamp down chronic (ingrained / hardwired) illicit behavior(s) into something figurative / digital that can be easily quantified / isolated.  

"Masculine purpose" is just too unclinical.  Too saturated within the entirety of the idea of the man himself.  His core ideals, his physical presence, his understanding / comprehension of women. His core drive(rs).  Yikes.

Hence, it's too much of an individualistic minefield to even consider approaching.

Therefore, what can be done?

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Years ago, a white bread Mormon Samson guy approached me (w/ tenacity) regarding his desire for me to serve him as his Silas.  This man was in his early 30s, reared in both Utah and California, whereas the latter was where he and his young family (Latino wife & preschool daughter) resided presently.  I believe he specifically chose me due to my specific same-sex attraction story and how antithetical it was to his own MO (but this is just speculation on my part).

His draw to porn was directly tied to his "masculine purpose", but that purpose was masked underneath a rigorously established religious identity.  This "masculine purpose" was (birthed during his teen years) rooted in (of all things for a clean-cut Mormon) his adoration for gangsta rap & culture.  And from there, rich, combustible fuel was found (masculine identity) in the specific form of Latino / black women who acquiesce to the gangsta rap aesthetic / lifestyle (he mostly found these in music videos / online porn). 

This / these women are what this man longed to consume in light of his "masculine purpose".  And I believe he did so in order to repetitively confirm / affirm that purpose.  

It was wildly bizarre attempting to walk with this devout, church-going Mormon.  Eventually, upon the apparentness of us continually going in circles regarding his recovery, I had to decouple.  For I knew I was in way over my head.

For whom was I to stand in the way of the very engine that fueled his sense of masculinity?

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My heart hurts for these men.  

If you're interested in learning more, simply read Saint Augustine's autobio.  And from there, be encouraged.  God rescues all manner of men from compulsive sexual sin.  But especially so, men like these.  Ultimately, a supernatural reordering of priorities is required.  A reordering that leaves intact a man's masculine purpose whilst allowing him to fuel up that purpose outside of the hedonistic physical / sexual norms that our culture so celebrates.