My current Silas had lunch with me (under the guise of two old friends catching up) back in April and it was timely. In spite of me having looped him in prior (many years before last April) to what Samson Society was, where it met, etc., he'd made no movement towards; but that all changed last April. We ate, he confessed (conceptually) to needing what it offered, and the next thing I knew, he'd drank the Samson Kool-Aid (down to the very last drop!). Today, he feels like my younger brother. Growing up - so to speak - before my very eyes within the same community I did. Moment by moment. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. My hope is he'll stick with it for as long as it "takes" (for him). And based on what I'm witnessing so far, that means we're in for a longstanding ride.
Earlier in the year (than April), I attended a regional Samson Society retreat (over the course of one weekend) on the Alabama coast. I arrived earlier than most of the +/-15 men, and as a result, I was very close to having an exclusive pick of where I wished to bunk. Not long thereafter, I was given the opportunity to work hard to befriend the second guy who also chose the room I had (he settled into his bunk +/-30 minutes or so after I did). Today, Ben and I have chatted most weeks - at least twice - at the same time each day, and this agreed upon daily dialogue started soon thereafter said regional Samson retreat (as a result of me agreeing to be his Silas). At the very beginning of said agreement, I asked that we loop his sweet (second) wife (she's a pastor) in, and he agreed. I found her to be fully supportive and thoughtful. Therefore, after that formality, he and I embarked, and we haven't looked back.
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Samson Society provides fodder for guys like me who live and breathe pivots / pivotal moments. Finding opportunities to altruistically extract other men's stories whilst intentionally reciprocating my own has been the most effective means for me to work my recovery. And this is grounded in the notion of interrupting my tendency to stay isolated within my own head.
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One of the most unassumingly pivotal moments in my childhood occurred during the summer prior to my sixth-grade year. My best friend, Johnny, and I were latchkey kids at this time. Specifically, he and I were immensely enjoying his parentless house (I suppose his mom and stepdad were both working during the day) while we were out of school. I had just turned 12 while Johnny was 13(?). Us two, combined with his younger brother, (who was around 8-9) prematurely had the place to ourselves.
During one of these days whilst playing there at his abode, I jokingly commented to Johnny that he smelled bad. And more than likely, I'd made this observation while he and I were grossly engaged in some massive Legos build (he and I were Lego fanatics). Whatever the activity, it had to have put us within close enough proximity for me to get a heady sniff of my friend's boystench.
You'll recall that Johnny was at least one year older than I. Hence, he was moving headlong into puberty whereas I was on the leading edge. Plus, Johnny was athletic (track, soccer, golf) which gave him an excuse to be out of doors / physically active often. Perhaps these things - combined - naturally rendered him odorous on this laidback summer morning.
In response to my candor, Johnny immediately decided to bathe. I knew this because he went straight to the hall loo and began running a bath. I remember thinking this a tad extreme at the time, but having no adult supervision whatsoever, the possibilities seemed almost limitless as to how we spent our time. Coupled with that was Johnny's independence. I'd known for a while that his household wasn't structured like mine. Johnny did and subsequently was capable of handling any and all household duties on his own (cooking, cleaning) far more readily than I could even imagine doing at this time in my life. All because he was expected to (& because he did them quite well).
Not much time had passed before I heard Johnny call out to me. This I found odd, but he was my best friend, therefore I went to the door and answered him. He instructed me to open it. I did and found him standing up naked in the tub. Foams of soap suds were dripping off of his muscular frame as he inquired curtly about how he smelled now.
As you might imagine, this made for an awkward moment. For I wasn't completely sure what was going on to motivate him as such.
In response, I rolled my eyes before quickly shut the door and returning to whatever I was playing before, trying all the while to reset my brain relative to what had just occurred.
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What did occur during that pivotal event that's now comprehendible?
Whilst looking back, I came to realize that Johnny had something I did not, and that was security in his own boyhood masculinity. And this had less to do with his physical build (which I clearly was exposed to as described), though that did attribute to it somewhat. In essence, it was his willingness to nonchalantly expose his naked body to me - as his best friend - in jest. This clearly demonstrated a vast difference between the two of us.
Keyword being nonchalantly.
Another descriptor could be confidently.
Johnny confidently went through with this without batting an eye. And it wasn't to prove himself / show off. No, he was simply behaving with no regard to him being judged through anyone else's eyes other than someone WHO he believed wholeheartedly WAS IDENTICAL TO HIM (another boy who was a close, safe friend).
But what he didn't realize (or did he?) was that was simply not the case. For I had none of the peace of mind that he so smoothly displayed relative to my own boyhood masculinity.
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As a boy, I had not one iota of satisfaction relative to my masculinity. At this time, it wasn't as if I felt feminine or wanted to be feminine. No. Instead of this, I was simply nothing except Rob.
I wasn't arrogant enough to look down on other boys who were no doubt marinating normally in their masculinity, but I did find them secretly intimidating. Johnny was different in this regard. For he'd lost his biological father to a tragic boating accident years prior to our latchkey summer. As a result, he'd been held back in school. His hard luck resulted in my good fortune as we became fast friends almost at day one of my / our third-grade year.
I knew at the time of this bathroom incident that I was heading towards adolescence, and I dreaded it. Besides, Johnny, the closest childhood family friend I'd had was a cousin who lived in the MS Delta. She and I had been close throughout my elementary school years 'till she became a teen (she was four years older). From there, everything changed for the worse as she shunned me outright seemingly overnight. Deep down, I sensed that this too may very well happen between Johnny and I.
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Let me fast forward to an episode in high school involving Johnny that I'm now convinced was also just as pivotal; for it served to validate Rob's masculinity in a way that I simply did not see coming. This event was borne out of convenience and necessity. Two motivators that, I believe, play a sizable role in pivotal moments within many men's lives.
Not long after the latchkey summer that I described above, Johnny's family moved away. Their house was only one suburban block from our home; therefore I was constantly reminded of his absence as we drove by. I did visit him on one occasion within their new digs (during our sixth-grade year), but otherwise, we'd no contact going forward. The experience wasn't noteworthy whatsoever for it was clear that Johnny had settled in nicely to his new (now mobile home) paradigm sans Rob.
Once adolescence reared its head for me, I expectantly protested silently. I can remember shaving my chest hair off of my sternum religiously every week whilst repeatedly failing to come to grips with how worthless I felt all around as a teenage boy. Looking back now on this period of my life, it was apparent that I'd absolutely missed out on my aforementioned validation. As a result, I simply attempted to keep to myself and survive in lieu of seek it out of my own accord.
One thing that brought immeasurable joy to me as a teenager was music. Whether I was listening, singing or dancing to it, I found a means to escape reality whilst emoting fully. Music could transport me to another place instantaneously, and I loved that. As a result of listening to so much music, I became a self-taught amateur vocalist. Eventually, opportunities arrived for me to use this skillset within our church's youth choir. And this is where yet another isolated juncture with Johnny gained too pivotal significance for such a time as that.
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After coolly trying out for a key role in the youth choir musical (at our megachurch, First Baptist Church Jackson) during the fall of '89, it became apparent that I was the shoe in as one of the leads.
As part of my costume for this musical, I needed to wear a letter jacket (as did most everyone else).
Who could I borrow a letter jacket from?
You must know that by this time, Johnny and his family had moved back into their abode that they'd left behind (& subsequently rented out) during our elementary school years. And though Johnny was now attending a separate school than I was, he and I had spoken briefly, exchanging formalities only, not long after I became aware of his return.
As you might imagine, he'd continued to excel athletically throughout high school, playing a number of varsity sports, but primarily his focus was track and field. As such, this is what he lettered in.
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I remember, like it was yesterday, the experience of trying on his letter jacket there out on the driveway of his home. For I'd ridden my motor scooter down to his house in order to retrieve it. The weightiness of it was surprising as I pulled it over my shoulders; for it blanketed me perfectly.
From there, after coaxing his younger brother off of my Honda Elite, I rode home wearing it on that cool autumn evening.
I must have held on to his jacket for at least a month since I needed it each time we executed dress rehearsals or performed (there were multiple performances at various churches throughout the Jackson Metro). As a result, it didn't take long for the mystique of Johnny's jacket to wear off somewhat, but what didn't subside was my memory of those initial few fortuitous minutes out on his driveway. For it was those moments where something special had occurred.
There was something divine about being given Johnny's letter jacket, but especially so by Johnny himself. All the while whilst out on the driveway of that same nondescript ranch house in Madison, Mississippi. Accompanying that transfer was me trying on the garment and recognizing how it too fit Rob well. Even though I wasn't Johnny nor had Johnny's athletic attributes to any degree (I was the drum major in the marching band and a soloist in the church youth choir, for pete's sake).
It's also important to note that I was keenly aware of Johnny's trusting me with his jacket being hinged on our childhood friendship and the experiences we both remembered so fondly (yet never had actually acknowledged / spoken about since). For had those never occurred, there would have been no relational foundation between us to build upon all those years later.
In essence, Johnny's masculine validation was surefooted / substantial enough for the both of us, and, I believe, he ALWAYS KNEW THAT about himself. That's the lesson here. As a result, he felt so moved - opportunistically - to share it with Rob when I took the opportunity / made the move to receive it.
And oh my goodness, did it ever make an impact on me subconsciously. Like an armor it became. An armor that's never left me.
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Sex between men, for Rob, has always been about validating masculinity within an extremely perverted, sinful way. Many men who struggle with unwanted same-sex attraction haven't been properly validated. That's me for sure. Therefore, this became the root of my inability to see any innate masculine value.
But as you've read here, there have been pivotal moments where enough of this has occurred indirectly to undergird me in ways that truly were / have been life changing. Forcing me to look at myself differently. Encouraging hope and fortitude that simply never would have been there before.
