Wisps Posts Tagged as 'Mother'
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Mom drowned her 3 children
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Every time society expounds on the greatness of a woman, an abusive mother rises to power, clips a child's wings and tears his heart out. 12-Sep-2022
Mother: or a whore. 16-Jul-2022
Mother: you never give a man a compliment unless he's dying. 21-Jul-2021
I was a zombie for two years. 15-May-2022
I bit into one when alone with the spirits. It tasted like soap. 15-May-2022
I didn't believe a word of it. All week she screamed "not to touch her soaps" and almost every day I struggled not to taste them. They looked yummy. 15-May-2022
My mother was tasked with bathing in soaps that looked much like Halloween candy to complete the ritual. It washed away the stains/bad spirits. 15-May-2022
Magic or fucked up shit. 14-May-2022
A black woman became possessed, my mother released her rage and I thought I was in a dark Disney movie. 14-May-2022
She didn't want the voices in her head to interfere with her mothering. 14-May-2022
My mother was. 14-May-2022
I was not the subject. 14-May-2022
I was present at an exorcism. 14-May-2022
The best way not to be regarded as a mother is not to become one. 22-Dec-2021
I spoke to my mother about gay relationships and she opined and observed that partners were rarely equal in marriage. One person is always in control (big dick, politics, celebrity, $, fantasy, escapism, propoganda, psychosis, pedo master) the other's head is in the clouds, we are all insecure and none of us end up happy. Why do we keep pretending?! Are we women, now? No. Some women can keep a man.
I love her! 22-Dec-2021
The lady was right. 22-Aug-2021
My mother raised me to believe that lies were a sin while coaching me to always lie to daddy. 04-Nov-2019
The idea of sharing neighborly grief and sentimentality with food is a common tradition that our family never followed. Dished food was constantly being brought to our home with gestures of warmth and or greetings yet remained untasted. At funeral gatherings my mother would throw out the stranger's food and keep only the family's. When the strangers inquired about their food my mother showed them the empty dishes. "It was so good the people gobbled it up." There was always an excuse. She didn't like what they said, they appeared unclean, smelled, had cats, were old, of another race or white. Mrs. Brady would have no chance at delivering "other food" to our mouths.
Our mother turned eating out into shopping for a restaurant. She wanted to make sure it was clean and comfortable and that more than two people were eating there. She didn't want to appear uncool.
Before she died, my stepfather's mother made some of his favorite dishes. We drove to pick them up. They were neatly packed in containers and my stepfather was excited to bring the food home and share it with us but mother smelled something foul in the car on our way home. I smelled nothing. Is it coming from those containers?! Throw them out! Those containers are not coming inside my house! They're poison. Throw them out or you're not getting back in the car! My stepdad deflated as he dumped the last taste of home and I felt so bad for him. It's his mother's food and he's the only one obligated to eat it and if he wants to relive a fond memory, he should goddam be able to. Mother! Go into another room while he gobbles it down. I'll clean it up. I told her that and she yells at me "yeah, but you don't know these people." (Spells and shit.)
I've never held to her philosophy and as an adult enjoyed much food by hospitable strangers and neighbors and obviously never died. My mother was afraid someone else would usurp her talent. 01-May-2021
I was under 25 living a fantasy gay lifestyle with my perfect partner in Brooklyn. I lived 20 blocks from my mother and my newly appointed stepfather. It was like living in a colorized version of "I Love Lucy." Yes, I was as corny as all of you once.
Mother calls hysterical. We had to come over. We were just there. What happened?
Rewind: my stepfather wanted to be more seductive for my mother so he called us for advice. My Russian advised him to get her flowers, lay them out, get a thong and strip for her. I agreed it might be fun for her. It was all the craze and my stepdad had the body.
FF: a family dinner was the event where he decided to put sexy daddy in motion. I was flabbergasted but I didn't want to embarrass him and or hear the wrath of mom. I watched as he stripped to a thong and ran her out into the kitchen. He automatically proceeded to dance and strip for my lover and I. Dude, my lover was getting into it. I slithered into the kitchen before my stepdaddy lap dance, checked on mom and she was furious. "That fuckin' maricon." Men don't do that shit. I'm humiliated. I apologized and told her it was my fault and that I thought it would be cute. I didn't know he was going to take it so seriously. She softened, laughed and whispered that "he used to be a bouncer at gay clubs. That's where he learnt the moves. (I didn't know bouncers had to bounce.) He says he never did anyone there but after today I'm not so sure." My mother accepted it as a joke, stepfather got dressed, we ate hardy, laughed ridiculously and went home.
Mother: Something's wrong with your stepfather, he's beating himself up,"como un loco." I think it's an army thing.
I was what? I returned to mother's and he was indeed beating himself to a pulp. He was punching himself and body slamming his head against the walls. We restrained my bloody step and stored him in a room away from my mother.
Step: your mother... (he couldn't speak)
Me: why were you punching yourself dad?
Step: (crying) because she pushed all my buttons and I wanted to hit her. I made a promise to myself that I would never hit another woman, ever, so instead of punching her, I punched myself.
Mother: pendejo. He really is an idiot isn't he? (She laughs. Ok. I laughed too.) I would rather he hit me and prove that he's a man instead of acting like this. (More laughter.) Your father knew how to corral a woman. I liked that. That's the kind of man I want. Not this. You have some of that too. (Ha!)
I asked he if she got off on it and she said yes. Out of the blue...she admits Osama Bin Laden gave her wet dreams. "There is something about that man. Don't you think?" (I was speechless. Why is she telling me this shit?)
I've taken her to countless hospitals with boyfriend injuries and interceded physically to save her life and she gets off on it? The hurt, the police, the pity, the crying, the worry, the danger, the attention, the fraud, the violence all for a tickle? 05-Mar-2021
Mother's stratagem to keep a working daddy closer is to never let him know he was doing a banging good job. "Make them sweat, make them wonder but if you want to keep 'em don't ever tell them how great they are." I got it. The more a man thinks he's great the more chances of fulfilling the crippling desire to open other people's presents. Irk that one good spot left in his brain and he'll keep coming back around to try to figure it out. I can see a woman's idea of entrapment there. It suddenly occurred to me to accidentally apply it to a guy I was dating. He was daddy perfection and ejaculatory squish. After an aerobic session he asked me to concur that the sex was one of our best. Even though it was, I told him I had better. He topped himself every single time and I always answered the same. Why did I do that? I sadly dumped him because he was a camper. He kept threatening that we couldn't extend our relationship unless I went camping with him. Black daddies and city Puerto Ricans don't do woods. It doesn't make sense. He was one of the greatest but I don't camp.
My step-father must wonder with every dying breath, "why did l try so hard? She was never satisfied." 21-Dec-2020
An effect of sexual abuse is that you inherit a victim's persona even if you've surpassed it and predator abusive comprehension. The survivors are damaged goods pretending to blend into a world that's flashed forward around them. Our vulnerabilities succumb to the first clever wolf that help incorporate us into the new world so that we fit in and hate it. To cope, we become the victims they are. They are our daddy saviors. We think that the next one will fix what the other one did because this one is different. At least half of my LTRs were straight men with penchant for wee ones. They were not in denial about their sexuality they were just hiding. I happened to hit the jackpot.
My mother finished ex violence with more violence. The end to my abuse was to sucker punch the croc in the middle of Manhattan for stalking me at work and everywhere else. He fell down as a grandmother yelled "yeah, punch that old motherfucker!" She didn't even know our business. Everyone surrounded me to make sure I was all right and he ran off bloodied and embarrassed. My mother and I never saw our stalkers again, my mother's broken bones and heart healed, her ex's bones got WWF broken and I moved back to my mother's house. I re-encountered my mother's ex, riding on an unlighted subway car after work. I wasn't sure until we descended from the tunnels and out into outdoor light. It was him, he had healed and was seething. His eyes bore through me and I felt a chill and a scent. Every flicker of light cast a Hitchcock shadow as I froze for fuck's sake. I had beat him once but it was a tough battle. Illegal drugs made him Hulkean. Even lesbian cop kickassers couldn't bring him down. He stared eerily at me through the longest ride of my life. (I will not bore you with rest.) 27-Oct-2020
I came out to my mother when I was 17 years old and no longer residing in her household. I didn't expect a good reaction so I called her on a public phone and announced it to her. She cried, became quiet and told me she suspected it but that she loved me, no matter what. I didn't have to lie to mother anymore. It was freeing. I visited her a few days later. She had time to absorb and ponder having a gay son. She cried again, I asked why and she said because being gay meant I was destined for a miserable life. That's impossible, it was such an overwhelming feeling to be me. I had to prove her wrong. She asserted conditions for my new identity: no meeting of "my men," I must continue to have a masculine presence, especially around family and don't get sick. I ignored her, introduced her to every one, told as much of the family as I could bear and kept my masculinity in check.
My mother recently confided to me that she used to receive dick pics from my croc daddy in the US mail while I was living with him. I thought, he might have done it as revenge for my unwillingness to absorb giant dick pain and or tricking him into being a gay bottom. When I took him to Gay Pride he cried because he thought I mistook him for one of those. He was straight. His shit was no joke but he was. A child molester was my educator and entrance into the gay world. I also figured my mother and I were even. Her boyfriend tried to brutally rape me. Mother's boyfriend was two years older than me, my croc daddy was 55. Our boyfriends shared the same culture, understood the nuances that make people vulnerable, and always seemed to be creepily plotting something sexual for us. Neither man represented our community. They were perverts sidling up to mommies so they could play with their children. (Now I know why she tried to cut him out of my photo albums.) I understand her comments and I realized her concern. My gay education came from perverts. The community hates itself more than the media loves it. Clicks work for a minute, the families we create are fake and we all die alone. We need less "Boys In The Band" depression and more gay reality awareness so we can come up with better coping mechanisms. Not smile at weirdos taking advantage of us because of politically correct etiquette.
I apologized to my mother. My croc stalked me, stole from us, used me, beat me up, tied me up and raped me. Afterwards, he thought of not releasing me because he was afraid I would kill him. You bet your life! But I had no choice, I begged for my life, stroked the psycho's ego and he loosened one arm while he Soniced out of the apt. I was stalked by my ex, my mother was stalked by her ex and I was stalked by both exes. I spent a lifetime trying to prove mother's sentiment wrong but in the end, she was right.
(Pic of my daddy croak included. Mother destroyed my croak dic picks but y'all can ask mother if she kept her copy.) 26-Oct-2020
"All" men are perverts! 16-Sep-2020
Porn and masturbation were two ills that my mother expunged from her household.
When cum commenced squirting from my penis I was as aghast as Carrie when she saw menstruation blood for the first time. I was so concerned that I reluctantly asked my mother for her medical opinion. She had me pull my drawers down, pull it out, hold it while she examined it, kept the answer in her head and slapped me away. "Ah, it's nothing. Leave me alone."
The first time I saw porn was my mother's bedroom dresser drawer, hidden underneath the aroma of the cleanest sheets on the planet. It was 101 ways to please a lover. Every position highlighted with a photograph. That did not look like the abuse sex I was having. It looked beautiful. My mother was a hypocrite.
I was taking a bath one day and I stood up to use the rubber shower hose, cleaning my specials... when mother walked in. "That's never going to happen in my house." A beating with a rubber hose was enacted and I sort of accepted it because even though I didn't masturbate at that time, I knew I had before and she knew it too! It was past due punishment.
Boyfriends were not immune to the rule. My stepfather would set up appointments at the nearest brothel just in case my mother got sick (on her period.) He "too" did not believe in jerking off. I knew this because I had to interfere when sex workers started calling my mother for payment. Of course, they're still together.
"I aways feel guilty after I come." 18-Jul-2020
Oh, by the way, they still exist 32 years later, fucking each other's brains out (thanks Viagra, I actually recommended it) and making anyone younger than them, miserable. 12-Jul-2020
Blame my mother for telling me this shit. (Sharing.) 12-Jul-2020
My mother's requisite for a boyfriend or life partner was:
had to be latin,
with great cock,
a job, responsible,
a bit rapey and idiotic.
Before my stepfather became part of the family he had to pay her overdue bills and mama proposed that if he ever wanted to get any of this (pointing to her vagina) he needed to pay these ASAP.
Two hours later he produced paid bills and we had a new daddy. She acquiesced in satisfaction. She applied lady cement before sex and had him bemoaning that my father must have sucked, it was so tight. Even when confronted with the exes (they were "friends of the family") my stepfather never accepted that my mother had hundreds of boyfriends before him. He stated to me that he would have left her otherwise. That's feminism! 12-Jul-2020
I lose weight when I talk to my mother. 16-Apr-2020