Being a Brother to Men Struggling with Same-Sex Attraction

Have you ever wondered how you can walk alongside men struggling with same-sex attraction as a brother? I still remember the first time I told other guys about my own struggle.

I was sharing a hotel room with three close friends at a ministry training event. Late one afternoon, as we gathered to pray, I took a breath and said, “Hey . . . there’s something I need to share with you guys.”

I don’t remember exactly how I worded it, but I remember the quiet that followed—the hands on my shoulder, the nods and prayers, the hugs as we got up to leave. Their response didn’t surprise me. These guys knew how to meet vulnerability with grace. But even as I expected their kindness, I thought surely something would change after that moment.

Maybe they’d pull back slightly, to protect me—or themselves. Maybe I’d become the fragile one they handled more carefully, shifting me from “peer” to “project.” Or maybe I’d become their faith hero?

But I was wrong. Nothing changed.

Back in the hotel room that night, I offered to take the floor so my friend could have the bed to himself. He immediately waved me off—“Stephen, don’t be dumb. Get up here.” A few minutes later, our other friend came in from a run, pulled off his shirt, and started doing sit-ups on the carpet while we all talked.

I remember thinking, “Did they hear what I said earlier?”

But of course, they did. They just . . . weren’t afraid of me. They trusted me. I was still one of them, still belonged in that room. Not as an “other,” but a brother.

Over the years, as this struggle has become part of my public testimony, I’ve frequently heard the following question from other men: “How do I love my friend who’s walking through this?”

When I think about the men who’ve loved me well along the way, their care has looked remarkably ordinary. It’s what every healthy Christian friendship is made of: presence, trust, and grace.

Brotherhood doesn’t erase temptation, but it rewrites the story around it. It takes what sin has twisted and reclaims it for love.

Still, there are dynamics worth paying attention to—areas where good intentions can get tangled up with sin or weakness. I’ve seen these at play in my own friendships and the friendships of others.

So, I write this for you men who want to love your brothers well in their struggle with same-sex attraction. From one brother to another, here are three encouragements I’d like to share with you.

1. Begin with Your Heart

When a close friend shares that he’s struggling with same-sex attraction—especially if you weren’t expecting it—you’ll probably feel a mix of emotions. Maybe your instinct is to stuff these feelings down . . . or let them fly. Either way, let me invite you to pause. Set aside for a moment what you think you should feel, and ask honestly, “What am I feeling?” Take time to notice what’s happening in your heart before God.

Maybe you feel compassion for your friend, or sadness. Maybe anger or betrayal that he didn’t tell you sooner. Maybe you feel overwhelmed—one more person who needs more than I can give. Maybe there’s discomfort or awkwardness—does he have a crush on me? Maybe you’re afraid of what he’ll tell you next.

Some men might react directly out of these feelings, venting or trying to control. Others might suppress them, smiling and pretending they’re unaffected. Neither response honors your friend.

Your feelings don’t make you a bad friend; they make you human. But they are an invitation to slow down and bring your heart to the Lord. Ask him what’s underneath these feelings. Are they shaped by your own story or past wounds? Maybe assumptions drawn from others’ failures—or media caricatures? Are they rooted in pride or fear, or maybe idols of control or comfort? Or perhaps the Spirit is prompting you toward wise discernment and Christlike love?

You don’t have to “fix” or fully understand your feelings before you love your friend, but you do need to surrender your feelings to Christ. He’s not surprised, and he alone can reshape your heart to reflect his heart for your friend.

2. Love Freely, Within Good Boundaries

Once you’ve brought your feelings before the Lord, the question becomes: Now what do I do? What does my friend need from me?

You might be a guy (like me) who likes to look like he has all the answers—but a great place to start is simply asking him. Ask what brotherly love looks like for your friend, with this particular struggle. Not all men struggling with same-sex attraction will need or want the same things in friendship. So let him tell you where he’s at—and listen.

He might say that brotherly physical affection is meaningful for him . . . or maybe quality time, verbal affirmation, or vulnerable sharing. All of these can be valuable components of healthy male friendship. None of them are wrong for him to hope for from a close brother.

But this is important: your brother’s wishes are not your commands.

You can’t love your brother well if you refuse to consider his needs or hold back expressions of friendship you freely offer other men simply because of his struggle. Example: you refuse to hug him, afraid of “sending the wrong message.”

But neither can you love your friend well if you abandon discernment and boundaries altogether. Example: you stay silent when his hugs feel uncomfortable, afraid of hurting his feelings.

Healthy boundaries are not walls to keep love out. They’re more like trellises, helping love grow strong, steady, and sustainable. Boundaries honor you both, protecting against confusion, resentment, and exhaustion.

Boundaries allow affection, affirmation, and time together to become gifts rather than obligations—offered freely, not extracted.

Love doesn’t mean saying “yes” to everything your friend wants. Love means discerning together what will build you both up in Christ and asking God to help you say “yes” to that—with honesty, generosity, and freedom.

3. Be His Brother, Not His Savior

All men need brothers in Christ who help bear our burdens and “run the race” alongside us (Heb. 12:1–2). But male friendship can be especially vital for men struggling with same-sex attraction who might feel alienated from other guys, unsure of how to belong.

Healthy boundaries are not walls to keep love out. They’re more like trellises, helping love grow strong, steady, and sustainable.

Your faithful presence can help your friend see that brotherhood is possible—even with all your own weaknesses and failures. In fact, when you share these struggles with him, inviting him into your life, you remind him he’s not a project or charity case. He is a man in God’s image who can offer friendship, strength, and wisdom to others. He belongs among men.

So yes, as this man’s trusted brother in Christ, you do have an important role to play in his life. But there’s a big difference between a brother and a savior. It’s easy, especially for caring men, to slip into rescue mode—to believe you’re the one keeping him faithful or steady. And it’s even easier when your friend begins to look to you for “saving.”

Your friend does need brothers in Christ, and so do you. That’s good and right. But when “I need brothers” turns into “I need you,” something has gone wrong. You might be a good man, and a good friend. But, brother, you are a very bad messiah.

Love your friend enough to point him to Christ, not yourself—even, or especially, when it feels good to be needed or when he thinks he can’t survive without you. You are not the source of his stability or healing. Jesus is.

Help your friend find the connection he needs beyond you—to other brothers and fathers in the faith, to the ordinary life of the church, to the wider body of Christ where his gifts and presence are needed, too.

When you stop trying to be your friend’s savior, you can finally be his friend . . . and he can be yours. And that’s what you truly need from each other. You can laugh and grieve together, challenge and encourage one another, and share in the grace that’s holding you both. That’s the kind of friendship that makes the gospel believable.

Walking with Men Struggling with Same-Sex Attraction—Together in Grace

What’s helped me most in friendship with other men isn’t the grand gestures or deep, emotional conversations . . . it’s the ordinary moments. The safe, steady presence. The brothers who kept treating me like one of the guys, not like an exception—who told me not to be dumb when I tried to pull away.

That kind of ordinary, faithful brotherhood does something powerful in a man’s heart. It diffuses shame that isolates and fear that distorts. It helps men struggling with same-sex attraction see other men not as objects of comparison or desire, but as brothers to be honored and enjoyed. Brotherhood doesn’t erase temptation, but it rewrites the story around it. It takes what sin has twisted and reclaims it for love.

This kind of brotherhood is not one-sided. It’s mutual. It’s not about one man rescuing another, but about both men walking together toward Jesus, who has rescued them both. It’s not one man giving out of guilt or compulsion, but both men giving out of the fullness that only Christ provides. It’s not about the exclusivity of two, but the interconnectedness of a community.

You don’t have to do something extraordinary to love your brother well. You just have to keep showing up—with presence, trust, and grace—and let him do the same for you. The rest is the quiet, steady work of Christ in both of your hearts—the true Brother who makes us all one family.