Asstr Son's Girlfriend

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Asstr Son's Girlfriend


Posted on May 13, 2016
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There is no visual more horrifying for me than catching my child in the middle of a sexual act in our home.
My son has a beautiful girlfriend who I adore. They have been dating for a while, and I understand how it is to be a 21-year-old with raging hormones. But the rule in this house is NO SEX AT ALL…and that includes me (unless I’m married). There is another rule: no drugs under this roof. This is the second time I caught my son and his girlfriend in the act. I lost my mind and threatened to throw everyone out for not obeying the rules. I was so upset at the blatant disrespect of his actions that I needed to leave my house and cool off, so I wouldn’t end up doing bodily harm to someone!
Sexual behavior can be animalistic and reckless or done with feelings of love, longevity and respect. I realized that I didn’t have a conversation with my son about which way he views sex and felt a conversation was in order. I am not the “cool mom.” I am not going to put condoms in a jar and allow girls to come “hang out” with him in his room. I am more of the if-you-have-time-to-hang-out-then-you-have-time-for-work-and-school mom. I am not comfortable knowing that my son is having sex in his room. Nope…can’t do it.
I called him into my room the next day to find out why he made this poor decision once again. This is how the conversation went:
“First off, I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved yesterday towards you and your girlfriend. I said many things I meant, but I shouldn’t have said them out loud. As a parent I have to show restraint even in difficult times, because I would want you to think before you speak. Ok?” I said. He looked shocked and slowly shook his head
“Is this a joke? You are apologizing to me because I broke the rules?” he said.
“No I am apologizing for the way I behaved regardless of the situation. I can’t allow you to take me to a place where I am out of control. Speaking of control, are you in love with your girlfriend?”
“I don’t know, I guess so, maybe,” he responded.
“Let me explain something to you about the responsibility of having sex. I understand that you want to get it on and be very physical due to your hormones raging out of control. But most women see sex differently than men. Your girlfriend loves you; she was still googly-eyed yesterday while I was cussing you both out. She traveled over here to see you and displayed every action indicating she is very interested in you. If you are having sex with her without your heart in it, then do her a favor and stop immediately.”
“What do you mean my heart, Mom? What are you talking about?” he said.
“Women take men “IN” we hold you FIRM and try not to let you go. Do you understand that statement? Women are sensitive creatures who, for the most part, have a direct connection between the vagina and their heart. It is your responsibility as a man to spend your time with those you want to really spend your time with. I don’t want you being a man just slinging your thing at every hole that comes your way. It is irresponsible and it hurts women. It hurts us to know that we have let you “IN” yet, you never wanted to be there for more than that moment. Sex should couple emotion and love; it should be done with thought. I hope you are thinking about her heart, or anyone else’s for that matter, before you give them your penis.”
His attitude during the conversation went from laughing nervously to being pensive. Then he said, “I love her, but I didn’t tell her yet.”
“Ok, well, if you love her, treat her with kindness and use thought. Please don’t be a man whore. I will be disappointed if I spent all this time acting like Mother Teresa around you to find out you are an ultimate whore.”
“Mom, OKAY. I understand; I got you. I am not all over the place; it’s not my way, Not everyone can get this.” He said as he walked away
It was the first conversation I had with him about feelings and what to do with them and how to manage them with sex. He is 21. After I spoke to him, I felt like this should have been something I spoke about all along as I do with my daughter. Raising thoughtful young men who are sexually responsible creates men who have a slimmer chance of treating women like a pieces of meat. In a perfect world, he would take that information and be the best boyfriend/husband the world has ever seen, full of compassion and romantic gestures, sweetly in love with his partner. That is what I wish for him.
What do you think about your children having sex in your house? What message are you sending to them while allowing them freedom to express and grow? I would love to know!
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I walked into my son’s school a few weeks ago to pick him up. He was sitting with all his friends waiting for me by the door and immediately got up when he saw me coming. Clearly, he didn’t want me coming anywhere near his friends. I got the feeling he didn’t want anyone to know he was with me. I was right.
As he got closer, he whispered, “Mom, why do you have to dress like that? Everyone stares at you.”
“No they don’t. They are probably staring at you because you are so handsome,” I told him.
“I blend in. They aren’t staring at me. They are looking at you. Why do you have to wear dresses and high heels?” For the record, I was wearing the outfit below. The nerve, right?
I decided I wanted to try something with my teenage son that day. I asked him if he wanted to dress me for a little while. I told him he could pick out my outfits and I would wear whatever he wanted me to wear as long as he had an open mind and would listen to a few things I had to say about people and the way they choose to dress, so that’s what we did.
I wanted to talk to him more about the subject and why he was feeling the way he was. And by having him choose my clothes for a while I would better understand why he wanted me to wear certain things, and maybe he would understand why I like to dress the way I do and that, really, it shouldn’t affect him as much as it does.
This was his choice for the first day. He picked out a very casual, sporty outfit, and I loved it.
While I dress like this about half the time and like this look, it doesn’t always suit me. Sometimes I feel like dressing up more, so I do. When I asked my son why he picked this out, he said because I “blended in and didn’t look out of place.” In his mind, when I dress up, I look like I don’t belong. If he only knew how many women I saw throughout the day wearing suits and heels maybe he would have a different opinion.
Regardless, I told him nobody should be judged based on how they dress — not even your very embarrassing mother . Most people wear what they are comfortable in, what makes them feel good. It doesn’t matter where it came from because this isn’t how we judge others. We focus on how they make us feel, if they are kind, how they treat people. I told him judging people for what they wear is very transparent, and he will be missing out on a lot in life if he is going to focus on making friends because of what they wear, what they have, or what they look like.
If he is comfortable dressing in a way that makes him feel like he blends in, I think that is great. However, I want him to have the inner confidence to step out of the box if he wants. If he feels like wearing something, even though none of his peers are, I want him to feel like he can.
I also let him know what someone puts on their body isn’t an invitation, for him or anyone else, ever. And he should always take heed on how he looks at people, especially women. There is a way to look at a woman without staring or gawking. No matter how you see her, she deserves respect. I don’t care what she’s wearing.
I also want my son to realize just because I am a mother it doesn’t mean I have to dress a certain way. I loved the outfits he picked for me, and dress like that on my own accord often. But I also love wearing dresses, heels, skinny jeans, and trying out new trends because that is who I am, and who I was long before I became his mother. It’s not my intention to embarrass him. It is my intention to be myself, and him making comments or telling me he doesn’t want to go anywhere with me because of the way I dress is hurtful (as normal as it is).
A few days ago, I discussed these “lessons” I was trying to teach him with a friend and she told me he would “take all these lessons and bake them into a gentleman pie.” I really hope she is right.

10 New "Why Me" embarrassing stories for May 23, 2008 By Audrey Fine PUBLISHED: May 23, 2008
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"For winter break, I went up north to learn how to snowboard, and it turned out that my instructor was a major cutie, so I was even more excited! But just when I started to do well, I fell on my butt in the middle of the snow. I started crying because it hurt so bad, but to make everything worse, the cute instructor came up right behind me and smiled at me in a 'You're pathetic' kind of way."
"I was in the drugstore with my best friend buying tampons, and we were debating on which ones we liked better. Right as my crush walked by we crouched down, thinking he didn't see us, but then he turned the corner and came up to us and said, 'Wow, I only thought girls were like this when they were shopping for shoes!' It was so embarrassing!"
"One day I was outside playing with my twin brother in our swimming pool. He was chasing me around, and so I got out and ran over to the front yard. Finally, he caught me and he reached out to grab me by my pants, but he accidentally pulled them off and I tripped into the mud with NO pants on. As my brother was walking over to say sorry, I noticed one of the cute guys from my school taking a picture of me with his phone. He ended up showing the picture to everyone at school! I was mortified!"
"It was that time of the month and I had forgotten my pads at home. My friends told me it would be better if I went to the nurse and got a pad there, so I did, and then went into the bathroom to put on the pad. However, she went into a long ramble about pads, tampons, periods, etc., and was talking superloud. I was so embarrassed when I walked out of her office and saw that my crush was right there, listening to everything."
"I'm a cheerleader and I'm at the top of the pyramid. I didn't realize I had my period, and as I stood at the top, I heard someone holler, 'Hey, Maria. Did you sit on some ketchup or something?' I was so embarrassed, but luckily only three people noticed and they were pretty close friends, so they didn't tell anyone."
"I'm the captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, and at one of our games my friend Maria told me that part of my cheer uniform skirt was stuck in my spanky pants! I quickly pulled it out and looked around to make sure nobody saw it, but the entire football team was laughing hysterically!"
"Last winter I was over at my friend's house and we were bored, so we decided to go in her hot tub. We went skinny-dipping since it was so cold outside and the hot tub was superhot. Afterward, we decided to go jump in the snow outside. Well, what we didn't know was that my crush lived on her street and was out taking a walk. So, when we ran to the front yard and jumped in the snow, he totally saw us! I was so embarrassed!"
"One night I was staying at my friend's house and I had my period. A little later, during dinner, my friend's brother came screaming down the stairs, yelling, 'Who has their period?' It turns out that the dog had gotten my tampon out of the trash and chewed it up on her brother's floor! I was so embarrassed!"
"So, I was sleeping over at my friend Emily's house, and when we were eating breakfast, I excused myself to use the bathroom. I had to go pretty badly, and I walked right into the bathroom as Emily's older sister was just getting out of the shower! She just stared at me, and then I ran out. I was so embarrassed!"
"My best friend, Britney, and I were at this clothing store trying on bras when my former best friend came in. She works for the school paper and she secretly took pictures of us trying on embarrassing stuff! The next day, the school paper had me on the front page! So embarrassing!"
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I think I recently had one of the hardest days of my life. It was a personal issue so I’m not gonna disclose the issue, but everything was falling apart and I couldn’t gather enough courage to pull myself out of the muck.
Today, I happened to spot a thread on Quora that asked readers to describe the hardest day of their lives. I came across an answer that has occupied my head from the very moment I read it. I couldn’t help but write about it because every person should read the story of this brave woman called Ann Young , who has been fighting with life since she was a little kid.
The hardest day of my life was my entire childhood.
At age 3, my uncle made me lick his penis “like a lollypop.”
At age 9, I was raped by another family member.
At 15, my mom and step-dad thought it was funny for my step-dad to touch my breasts.
My mom’s second husband would make me strip naked and lay in the center of my bed while he beat me all over my body.
My mom’s third and current husband, my step-dad, beat me regularly for a decade, from the time I was 5 until I was 15.
I got hit for making too much noise in the morning. I got hit for eating the last pickle. I got hit for speaking. I got hit even if I opened my mouth to speak. I endured black eyes, bloody noses, fat and bloody lips, a broken finger, welt marks and bruises all over my body. I’ve been hit with a croquet mallet and beaten with a whiffle bat until it was broken in half. My entire childhood was terrifying.
On top of it my mom would tell me that she didn’t want me, that if she could do things over she wouldn’t have had me. She didn’t want me.
My step-dad made fun of me every day because I was a little chubby. He would entertain guests by making fun of me. He would encourage me to make fun of him in return and then laugh at my poor attempts. Whenever I did make a joke he didn’t like, he would beat me for it.
I tried my best to overcome it. By age 30, my body gave out. It was too damaged from all the physical abuse. I have Enthesopathy, Fibromyalgia, and polyarthritis, just to name a few. I also suffer from chronic PTSD, major depressive disorder, and anxiety.
I live off of SSD and receive less than $12,000 a year to survive. All of my hopes and dreams were stolen from me.
Shortly after my uncle sexually abused me, he killed himself. I have wondered all of my life if he killed himself because of what he did to me.
The person who raped me when I was 9 years old was my older brother. He did not live with us.
My two older brothers grew up with our biological father while I grew up with my mom and step-dad. My mom didn’t want the boys. She barely had anything to do with them. She kept me because I was a girl and because she wasn’t entirely sure who my father was. I grew up believing that William James Young Sr was my father. My mom kept me away from him for most of my childhood because of my brothers, according to her.
The brother who raped me did so during a very rare visit to our home. He was allowed to spend the night that night. He hated me. He hated that my mom kept me and had barely anything to do with him. Little did he know what I was going through.
I didn’t tell on him until I was 11. My mom contacted the police and a woman came to our home. I had to tell her everything. My brother was arrested and sent to live in a juvenile detention facility for 4 years. His last year there, my mom took some interest in him for some reason. She started bringing my rapist home for visits. One day she made me sit at the dining room table and write a letter. She forced me to write that I had forgiven my brother and that I wanted him to come live with us. None of it was true. I was terrified of my brother. Additionally, my parents never got me any help for what he did to me. They said that they couldn’t afford it. My parents could afford new jewelry every Christmas for my mom and yearly vacations to Las Vegas but they couldn’t afford anything for me ever, not dental check ups, not doctors, nothing. I was lucky to get a coat for winter and with that I was forced to get on my knees and thank my parents repeatedly for all they did for me.
My mom had my rapist come live with us. Then they blatantly favored him right in front of me. He was good looking. He made them laugh. My step-dad would have my brother join in in making fun of me.
Eventually, they kicked him out when he became a serious drug user and started selling their stuff.
I came to forgive my brother. I learned that he did to me what someone had done to him. He is currently on parole after serving his second prison term. He never stopped using drugs. I don’t have anything to do with him.
A couple of people have asked me, “Why didn’t you get out?” As a young child, I didn’t realize I was being abused. I thought that all kids got hit like me. I was a bad child. I didn’t clean my room when I was told to. I made too much noise. Sometimes I talked back. I ate the last pickle. I didn’t clean up my parents mess in the kitchen. I could go on.
When my step-dad broke my finger my parents brought me to the hospital. I was told to say that I slipped and fell in the driveway. I was threatened that if I said anything else I would be hurt worse. I was too terrified of my parents to say anything but what I was told to.
It wasn’t until my early teens that I was allowed to spend time with friends in their homes. That’s when I saw that they weren’t being beat like I was. I remember one friend talking back to her dad. I winced and cowered in anticipation. I was
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