The Lie That Steals Sonship

Brother, let’s talk about the wound most men don’t even realize they have. The one that starts early—so early, you can’t remember a time before it.

Maybe it wasn’t a single moment, but a slow drift. Maybe it was a father who was there but distant, a brother who overshadowed you, a world that told you—subtly, persistently—you weren’t quite like the other boys.

And then, the lie crept in:

You don’t belong.

You’re different.

You’re not really a man.

It wasn’t just about interests or personality. It was deeper. A gnawing sense that you missed something vital, that masculinity was something other men had—something you could admire, even long for, but never fully claim as your own.

And for some of us, that’s where same-sex struggles first took root. Not as a choice, not as rebellion, but as a search for something we felt we lacked. The strength, the confidence, the belonging we thought we weren’t given. And because the world only knows how to frame male longing in sexual terms, that ache got twisted before we even knew what was happening.

The enemy planted a lie in our boyhood, then spent years reinforcing it:

You’ll never be one of them. You’re not enough. You’re something else.

But brother, hear this: the enemy is a liar.

God did not make a mistake when He made you a man. You are not an outsider to your own design. You are not less of a man because you don’t fit some narrow mold of strength or skill or stature.

Masculinity is not about muscles or sports or how deep your voice is. It’s not something you earn. It’s something you are.

You were born a son. Not half a son. Not a different kind of son. A son.

The wound is real, but so is the healing. And it starts with rejecting the lie and stepping into the truth that was alwaysyours.

You belong.

You are enough.

You are a man.

Because God says so.