A place for a

25.03.2015

How a single mother can ruin her son’s sex life

This is no sexual abuse story, don’t worry. No disgusting mother-son-lovestories here. And for those who think that there’s nothing wrong with mother-son-relationships… well. Maybe not for you. I find the idea disgusting. Be offended if you will.

The tragedy of a failed love

I had prepared my bed and made my room somewhat presentable. The girl I was meeting, wow. We got along perfectly and I was looking forward to see her.

We met in a park and spent some time sitting under a tree. It was nice, yet I was too timid to make things more serious. In the end, she quickly hugged me and I wrote her a text message: That was an unusually beautiful day. No answer, of course!

I came home, dismayed and hurt. Yet I felt like I can handle it. The idea to be able to deal with this made me feel strong.

My mother asked how it had went. I told her.

Immediately she started to caress me and pity me. I saw the suffering in her eyes.

Mom, it’s okay. I can deal with it.
– One day, you will find the right one, I know it! Oh, son, everything will be alright.

I was disgusted and repelled, yet didn’t understand that emotion and ended up comforting my mother for the pain and pity she was feeling. She thought she was feeling “with me”, but in fact I had in a way accepted things.

It felt horrible. She was tearing my own experience out of my heart and using it for herself. She was stealing my emotion. Yes, my emotion! My experienceOnly I had a fucking right to feel this, you stupid bitchYou’re a monster!

She was using my pain to indulge in her own self-pity. She took a piece of heart out of me and ate it up like a piece of chocolate to indulge in a pity-orgasm. She took my heart and my pride like a dildo and put it up her vagina to satisfy her need, her need of submission to a brutal and cold world that was unbearable. Yes, that’s a metaphor. But that’s what I felt like. Used.

I went back to my room. I wanted to feel the pride of being able to endure this again, but some undefined horror kept creeping up inside me, telling me: No, don’t even think you can handle this. The world is unfair and the only thing you can do is cry.

Yet I couldn’t even cry. My mother had taken that away from me. I wasn’t able to feel anything. The emotional memory had been stolen, tainted and befouled, robbed of it’s naivety and sad innocence. It had been stolen and used as a proof that the world was evil, unbearable and that one could only be a victim.

A woolen shawl of blackness laid itself around my heart, comforting and deadening.

I accepted my mother’s judgment. There was no place for us in this world.

Only that

Only that there is no us. I am a man, mother. You cannot teach me.

But there was no one to tell me how wrong you were. There was no one to let me have my pride. To let me have my pain.

Yes, you took my pain away. And I hate you for it. It wasn’t yours to take. It was meant to fuel me, make me strong. But you wanted me to be sweet, good, better than my father.

So what will I do now? I will go out. I want my pain back. I will fail and I will not let you take it away. I will keep the pain for myself and protect it as if it was the most valuable good on earth. You failed, mother. And it is not on me to comfort you. I can’t. It will kill me if I try.

The hotel receptionist

This was way later. I had run into a very attractive hotel receptionist on my vacation. She was very into me in the heat of the moment. I was hard like a rock and all mory, took all my courage and asked her to come up to my apartment. She had to work, but she gave me her number and promised to arrange something the next day. With a coveting and challenging tone of voice, she asked me whether I wanted to see her. I said Yes. She smiled at me as I went away and said that she was looking forward to it. You are horny, little girl, aren’t you? Haha! I own you, hahaha, I’ll have my fun with you!

The next day I got a short letter handed by another receptionist. I was supposed to call her next time I’m in the vicinity. Today, it’s clear to me that she must have lost the appetite over night. That’s okay. But that wasn’t at a good time in my life and I was once more dismayed.

Yet it was one of those special moments that give you a whole new outlook on life. This was what it meant to be a man? This was beyond confidence. This was greatness. This was raw pleasure and joy pulsating in harmony with my whole body. This was what it’s meant to be like. Man and woman. Ever unknown greatness was within reach.

At this point in time, I had long moved out of home. Inspired by raw lust, I went into the park and talked to a girl. The dialogue wasn’t awesome, but I didn’t care. I knew something that the man I had been before hadn’t known: Great dialogue is not what it’s about. I had an inkling that she was somewhat shy: When I asked her why she was alone in the park, she said one needs some time for themselves. Haha. I didn’t mind, I’m the man after all; it’s on me to lead. I walked her to the park exit and simply and unapologetically asked her if she wanted to come home with me. She said she was not that kind of girl. I had to laugh. It was just too funny, you know. Once you’ve seen the big picture, it’s like someone would say I’m not the kind of person who likes to drink orange juice. It’s so ridiculous that it’s funny. The knowledge of strength always reveals weakness. And once you’ve known strength, you wonder why anyone would choose weakness – it’s pointless.

Anyway. I told these two happenings to my mother and grandmother whom I was still sporadically seeing and got another reaction this time: You can’t be so direct. And I said: Why not? They can say no, after allWhat’s the big deal?

But even though I was able to defend myself, the thought stayed in my head. You know, life can be curious. You want to stand behind a truth, but the more you become a proponent of it, the easier it becomes for the lies to sneak in through the back door. There they start to spread and grow, like bacteria. And within a few weeks, I was doubting what I had done. I wish I had told these stories to a strong man instead. He would have said: Haha, boy! You’re finally finding out what life is about! Way to go!

What could a life have been like with a father

For those of you who can relate to these experiences, I have found a great article that gives some perspective on how a life with a father could have been / can be in the future: Ways Single Mothers Destroy Their Sons

The article focuses on damage done by a mother, but you can just as well read it the opposite way, since when you see what’s wrong, you see what’s right instead.

If there is advice to give: Be angry. I don’t know if the anger ever goes away. Maybe it’s there for good – as a warning. But as soon as you connect with your anger, stop focusing on it. Use it.

Read the linked article not as a list of things you have missed. Read it as a speech to liberate your soul. To see, finally, what is right and wrong for a man.

Aspire to be a man. Yeah, it sounds like a cliché, but “it’s too late” is for crybabies.

You know, the thing is: I so desperately wish I could have been this and that. A man doesn’t say such a thing and he doesn’t decide to have regrets. Why? Because a man is a rational and smart creature. He knows that this is bullshit. Start out being a man by being smart.

Have you had similar experiences? What kind of lies are you trying to leave behind? What were your life-changing moments? Please share.

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  • Brett

    Dude your blog needs more comments! This article was gold. For a long time I’ve unconsciously withheld bad news from my mother. I really hate how women enjoy giving pity and feeling negativity. I’ve adopted Mike’s mindset stuff over the last year and my inner dialogue is mostly positive. For example when I get sick I will ignore the symptoms and pretend like I feel perfectly fine. I’ll be as productive as possible given the circumstances. But then my mother will comment on how awful I look or sound. As if that makes me feel better! Just one small example, but it’s constant and will break a man down eventually.

    • Hey Brett, that’s exactly the kind of situation I am talking about. All the pity, gosh. But we’re not here to whine, are we. Well, a little.

      I think most men can’t directly relate to the back story I have, growing up without a father. Is this the same for you?

      I imagine that with a (strong) father, there is a person to buffer you from all that female energy; which is one reason in and of itself why one must be man enough to be father – no way to escape it.

      That said, there’s two things you must do from my current experience.

      First and foremost, get out of there. Even if you can’t break up the contact completely, get your own place to live. Unless you are in some extremely unique situation, I doubt it is impossible to do. Do not accept any kind of regular help from your parents for this, not the slightest. It must be yours. Closing the door of my own apartment behind me and being alone, that was one of the happiest moments of my life. Just visualize that. Alone with a mattress in an empty room. That room is yours, you have earned it. Nobody to come through the door and offer you a tea. I admit that I have forgotten the joy of that and just writing about it makes me feel calm and at peace with life.

      Second, as I am getting to learn, is that females just share certain things. What your mother did, others will do. Now, I personally love to cut off my past, as I have no use for it. But those feelings, you gotta take them without hestitation, without flinching. Like a punch in the face when fighting. Gotta learn to love the pain. This is easier for me during fighting, but I almost lose it when a woman pities me and feel rage wallow up. Because while physical pain is something novel, this kind of subtle oppression is something I have been exposed to for far too long without intermittence. Other men will not be so dramatic about it, because they may have had a father who protected them. How ironic: Protected from coddling. It’s true, though.
      But losing control doesn’t really make you stronger. So while I myself have not completely mastered it, I think the way to go is to take it lightly. To know in the back of your head that you can now always walk away from it, thus it is no real threat. But that’s not really true while you live in one place with that monster.
      I imagine myself looking a bit like an angry dog about to irrationally leash out at a woman being just a tad too nice to me every time it happens. While it is righteous and kind of humorous, it is far from well-adjusted.

      I wonder, does she talk with you about living together with or near you someday and grow old with you? So that she will not be alone? Man, this is so long behind me that it seems ridiculous to even consider anymore, but it was a source of guilt for sure back then.

      On a side note: I get a hell of a lot of traffic on this article with keywords like “mother son sex”. Sometimes a bounce rate near 100% is a great thing.

      • Brett

        “On a side note: I get a hell of a lot of traffic on this article with
        keywords like “mother son sex”. Sometimes a bounce rate near 100% is a
        great thing.”

        Good lord! Haha.

        You know, I actually have a father that lives with us. He’s a dutiful beta with an alcoholic vindictive side. It’s either complete absence/cowardice, or raging asshole. No emotional control. I empathize with both my parents– they don’t know any better. However it infringes on my life, so it is a problem.

        I think the articles you write can be useful to all young men, even those with fathers. 99% of fathers are emasculated. If they aren’t, they’re taking a very big risk with these western governments.

        I don’t even want to tell you my age. Yes I live with my parents. I lived on my own for over a year, some of it spent on the other side of the country. But then I ran out of money. I had a somewhat successful business but I needed to cut expenses, so I moved back home. Terrible idea. Now I’m getting rid of all my business equipment, which feel like “anchors” keeping me tied down to this location. I’m very close to moving out. As you say, never accept help from your parents. Their help was a snare. As soon as I invested all my money in inventory, my mother was telling me I should get a job etc. Parents fighting all the time. A very negative environment.

        Funny enough, my mother was thinking about moving out and asked if I wanted to share a place with her. “No!” I retorted, faster than she could blink haha. I felt bad but there’s no fucking way that’s happening.

        • To tell you the truth, I have some financial trouble myself now. But I would rather live on the street than back with my mother. In fact, I would rather live on the street than asking her for help. It would be like death.

          I have been doing this programming stuff for a while now and I am getting tired of it. Thought it might actually be great to work some blue collar job some time. Some job for idiots. Building houses would be great, but first of all, getting my hands dirty.

          Sold a lot of stuff myself. In fact, I think I own almost nothing anymore that my mother gave to me in over 23 years. So it goes: What you have not earned, you will lose. I feel very free now, only having the most necessary stuff anymore.

          Funny anecdote.

          Keep killing.

          • Brett

            Yea I totally understand, your stuff begins to own you. Especially as a young guy you need to travel light due to the uncertainty of this world, or just to snatch opportunities.

            Are you programming as a freelancer or do you have a 9-5? The blue collar thing has its perks for sure. Generally more “red pill”. I used to work construction and the long hours got to me. I’m an entrepreneur at heart so I was forsaking my soul purpose for a nice paycheck. I eventually created my own blue collar biz that let me work at home but even then, the physical labour wears you down. Still infinitely better than a job. I had to stop anyway due to my family nagging me (mom and her parents).

            Let me know if you’d like some ideas on how to make money with little startup $$$. I’m at a point where I have too many ideas and have to focus on 1 or 2.

            Cheers!