Journeys of a Wandering Wordsmith
Journey with me on my blog!
That Time I Stood Up to a Homophobic, Transphobic Bully – Also, a Pastor
A storyteller I follow refers to his growth in the numerical unit of past iterations of himself. "That was eight Robs ago," he'd say of himself, back when he used to believe one thing or behave a totally different way. I've started viewing my own growth in this vein, thinking about all the Toms that have existed in this singular Tom, particularly with regard to this active-passive dynamic. My passivity has run especially true in matters of relational conflict. Given the option to fight a conflict or flight a conflict (please excuse my incorrect usage of a noun as a verb in the name of symmetry), I will flight nine times out of ten. Ah, but then there's always that one instance...
I Can't Believe I Came From Her
My grandmother died. These words rattle around my heart like pinballs that won't settle, even a week beyond her funeral. And yet I wonder if the settling of these pinballs would be any better – the finality of their lodging into the belly of that machine, no longer kept alive by another flap of the paddles. Mayme Alice was the last of my grandparents to leave this earth, and undoubtedly the one with whom I grew closest.
I (Still) Love You, Camp Ridgecrest
I'm only twenty miles away from Camp Ridgecrest, but it might as well be twenty dimensions. A bunch of foggy memories along with a million unformed, never-to-be ones. It's a fog I can't shake, follows my footsteps within and beyond the Blue Ridge. Am I crazy? Obsessed? Why does a camp have such a grip on me after all these years? It was one summer. One effing brutal beautiful summer. Why do I feel so much? Why do I hurt with a longing for what was and what wasn't? And why do a bunch of entitled white southern Gen X Christian moms rake me to the core?
I Am Not in Control
I have control issues. I have known this about myself for a little while now. Counseling has helped me see it more clearly, though I feel I've known this for many years prior. I don't like being at the mercy of my circumstances. Especially the mercy of another human.
Jesus Year
In 2017, when I was 30, I quit my full-time job at a boarding school to pursue more of Your Other Brothers. It's work, certainly, editing blogs and producing regular streams of podcasts and videos, but it's also a lot of ministry. Responding to emails from new readers. Engaging with supporters at coffee shops. Planning weekly digital gatherings and yearly "real-life" retreats. Am I comparing myself to Jesus, you're asking? Why, of course I am. But shouldn't we all?
Oops, My Readers Are My Friends Now
It's been a wonderful thing, and it's been a debilitating thing, all these Internet friends. On the one hand, the Internet has filtered out "real life," so to speak, connecting me with the people I deeply want to connect with. People with common interests, common sexualities, common faiths, common cross-sections of all these things. And on the other hand, the Internet has totally spoiled "real life." Real life relationships — or the hapless pursuit of them.
A Man of God I Am Not
Upstream, of course. I've always been swimming upstream. Against the current. The current of sexuality. The current of introversion. The current of inferiority. The current of separation. The current of brokenness and deficiency. The current of not being quite enough of a man, if even at all. Let alone a man of God.
My Weird Little Introverted Internet Life
Like, this is actually my life now. Meeting folks from the Internet wherever I go. Near and far and down the street. I mean, I've lived this life for years now. I'm not oblivious to it. I'm just feeling it really strongly today. Realizing I hardly translate my weird little introverted Internet life to others.
5 Regrets After 5 Years of Struggle Central
Writing Struggle Central five years ago was absolutely the path God intended for me eons ago. My path as a human, my path as a writer. The gateway to my wildest dreams as an author. Also, a nightmare. A foreign world with implications I'd have never otherwise encountered.
A "Love, Simon" Pseudo-Review
On High School, Deep Dark Secrets, Coming Out, Asexuality, My First Kiss, Longing, Commitment, Separation, and the Eternal What-If? I tracked along with 95% of Love, Simon. The deep dark secrets. The longings for other boys. The conflict between self and persona. The thrill of realizing you're not alone.
