The Feelings of a Son for His Mother


Browsing through the mail feedback that I get from my adult sites (where I pose as the nude gardening cougar bunny — born out of the abstract of my hubby’s mind), the mother-son relationship theme, and her boundaries, seem to appear more often in recent questions, interpretations and suggestions. Sure, this matter never dawned on me before the past couple of months, during which several members have had their curiosity and fantasies expressed in various literary ways. Making it clear from the very start that, in my ramblings and reflections, I consider the son being an adult, and his mother likewise (if we’ve got to rigorously mention the superfluous for any record that may be of concern).

Raised among the sun setting shadows of the Iron Curtain, in a family of proletarians, I lived through a most naive childhood. No one was talking about sex to me. A taboo theme that I had to discern on my own, from lectures, biology classes, girlie talk and similar hearsay. Sexual uneducation may not be a word but it gives a generational perspective about my upbringing. During Law School I had learned first time (ever!) about homosexuality — punishable with jail time in that era — and I wondered how many other sexual practices were known to man but totally unknown to me…

Oh yes, oral sex was also considered a perversion in (and before) the 1980s. Nevertheless, I discretely indulged in it (instigated by who else).

Later on, during the 1990s, I encountered rare cases of inbreeding which were (all of them) involving the father, not the mother. This is it, until May 2013, I saw no reason to analyse this matter of fact. Most likely that it used to be a seldom occurrence over the ages. Only this simple observation makes it abnormal. But woo, given the obstinate political correctness of the media, can you actually tell what’s normal from what isn’t nowadays? Someone coined the term of “New Normal” to re-define the anomalous.

Beauty in biology is symmetry. Mercy in faith is empathy. Swapping empathy for biology and symmetry for faith makes the case for trouble, big trouble. Disease will be tolerated and prejudice will be hailed. Disaster will wait behind the corner…

Like with any other approach, you shall find the answer in measure and balance. Talking about the feelings of a son toward his mother, let’s recall a few boundaries of the past. Children had to pay respect to their parents, to manifest good behavior, quietness and reverence. Most of the time, sons had a present father in-house, to listen to and to follow by example. Having a father was the norm then. Even in polygamous societies, the presence of the father proved instrumental for a harmonious maturation of young boys. Submissive mothers and mighty fathers providing for them and their children. Developing his fresh mind in this ecosystem, the adolescent would imitate his father, learn to protect his mother and look around for girls his own age. Why? Because the present father would take the time to teach the son about sexuality.

For various reasons (not the topic of this article), lots of things went wrong. Fathers turned drunk, abusive and eventually absent. Desperate mothers were left to step in their empty shoes — a task too daunting even for the most valiant woman.

Modern feminism had good reason to fight for equal voting rights, emancipation from drunkards, swines and ogres. It eventually won, one step at a time, and now we have emasculated men left alone with their own aged boyhood by the mighty and dominating Godzillas that have seized their offspring, their houses, their cars, yachts and half of their income away.

For some very obvious reason, the measure and the balance are missing from the most intimate crossings of our lives. When the trends have screwed the societies, when the environment has gotten upside down, when the “new normal” is the norm, then we should replace “ours” with “mine” and start looking for the individual, for the exception, for the separate, allowing the collective to follow its frantic modernity. Individualism is, after all, a Western value. One that comes in handy, especially over the realm of sexuality.

A son could feel sexual attraction for his mother. It doesn’t matter (any more) who is to blame for what. Definitely it’s not the son. Jesus said that children will not carry the burden of their parents’ sins. Most likely, it’s not even the mother — she just followed the collective trend, like “all” do, a way or another. Blame the society then. But what’s the point? Because “society” is an abstract scapegoat and blaming it won’t solve any problem.

A solution that I would experiment with, if the case, would follow a simple syllogism. In sexual applications, consider your mom as the antithesis, the woman as the thesis, and love as the synthesis.

In English: love your mom but not sexually; love a woman (or more) but not like you love your mom; love yourself by investing in your offspring – contemplate a glimpse of your future for that matter.

In practice, you may find look-alike women and fantasize about having them, then gradually jump to the next imaginary lover a few years younger, until you’re gonna feel comfortable in the perspective of time — this, trust me, works for men with women younger than them. It’s one of the norms in biology.

Rule of thumb: don’t take anything too personal, never make too much of a case when seeing a scratch on your ego. Let it go! Learning to let it go, to forgive and start over, is the key to loving the beauty in people, in your mom as well. Loving the beauty is loving the idea and this is what will upgrade a fleshly feeling to a divine perception.

I like being watched and admired not for the nought of myself but for the thrill of giving solace to a distant stranger, for the joy of giving joy, for the love of art, and the art of love.

This week hubby published my first video clip on Youtube. Look for user MrsDorisDawn out there.

This week hubby published my first video clip on Youtube. Look for user MrsDorisDawn out there.

 

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