First Incest

🔞 ALL INFORMATION CLICK HERE 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻

First Incest


Listverse is a Trademark of Listverse Ltd
Copyright (c) 2007–2022 Listverse Ltd
All Rights Reserved
| Terms Of Use




Jamie founded Listverse due to an insatiable desire to share fascinating, obscure, and bizarre facts. He has been a guest speaker on numerous national radio and television stations and is a five time published author.
Incest, or sexual relationships between biologically close family members, is an idea that may make your skin crawl. But it has often been practiced around the world throughout history. Royals often married close family members to keep their bloodline pure and to protect the throne politically and economically.
Cultural attitudes toward incestuous relationships vary more than one might imagine; while one group may warn of supernatural repercussions to the act, another may see spiritual virtue and deem such relationships a form of worship. The variety of examples from around the world may surprise you.

In the long-gone empire of Monomotapa in Zimbabwe , one king had over 300 wives. His “main wives” were close relatives, often sisters or even daughters, and only their children could one day inherit the throne. These special children could only become royal heirs because of their exclusively royal bloodline, having not been made impure by nonroyal unions. Only the king could partake in this exclusive kind of incest—nonroyal noblemen would have faced death if they tried it themselves. [1]
Royal incest also occurred in the Fon kingdom of Dahomey (located in present-day Benin), where the king could mate with whichever woman took his fancy: single or married, foreign or native, free or slave. Even women from his own family were allowable, including cousins but not full sisters .

In pharaonic Egypt, it was believed that the dowry of the royal heiress would include the throne. Not only that, but they believed that the bloodline would be strengthened by a brother-sister union. While we cannot easily genetically test the offspring of these unions today, we do know that quite a few 18th-dynasty pharaohs married their sisters or half-siblings, and Ramses II in the 19th dynasty certainly did.
Akhenaten (aka Amenhotep IV) received some attention when he married his sister, Nefertiti, and it was claimed their parents were also close relatives. From his appearance in artwork from the period, experts have speculated he may have had genetic conditions and abnormalities. This was later confirmed following genomic analysis on DNA samples from Tutankhamun, his son. His abnormalities may have been from mutations resulting from the commonplace marrying between brothers and sisters in the royal bloodline. [2]
In Roman Egypt, those outside of the royal family were engaged in brother-sister marriages. In contrast, the Romans were against incestuous unions, and the marriages outlined in records were of people marrying outside the Egyptian ruling classes at the time of the Romans.
Incestuous marriages occurred across the economic and social divides. The most astonishing example recorded was between twins , a union which was said to have produced an heir. These unions, although in great number, were concentrated in the Greek settler community, which may account for the limited number of possible partners. [3]
Zoroastrianism was the religion in Iran until the invasion of the Muslims, and the incestuous marriages of the time were tied to the religious beliefs that marriage was favored by the gods, and the act was similar to worship. Mother-son, brother-sister, and father-daughter unions were outlined in the Pahlavi texts (sixth to ninth century AD) as having a special religious integrity.
Incestuous unions were one of the ways Zoroastrians believed one could enter heaven as well as expunge the sins of the soul . There is little to no evidence left of Zoroastrian people actually having incestuous relationships in this way, but there are plenty of references to how it was seen from a religious perspective. [4]
From the 15th to the 19th centuries, European royalty often married between cousins. We see this happening with the Spanish Habsburgs , the Prussian Hohenzollerns, the French Bourbons, the Russian Romanovs, and the British royal families .
Some experts believe that the decline in families like the Spanish Habsburgs was due to inbreeding, as mental as well as physical problems began to cause family members to deteriorate. [5]
In more recent history, anthropologists have examined the Malagasy people and their relationship with incest definitions. They found the Malagasy have different views on what constitutes incest; in some pockets of Madagascar, first cousins can be man and wife, but in other regions, that is strictly taboo .
If the line is crossed into incest, either intentionally or unintentionally, they believe terrible things will happen as a result. Their crops might fail, canoes at sea will overturn, their children may die, women may become infertile, and birth defects like horns or humps may follow. These consequences may happen whether the couple realize they are related or not and may not affect the husband and wife themselves but their village or community. The seriousness of the disaster befalling the community will let them know how much atonement must be done. [6]
The Incas thought they were direct descendants of the gods. Believing their ancestors were celestial bodies, royal families mirrored the stories of the Sun, who married his sister, the Moon. When the Inca king Topa Inca Yupanqui married his sister, he was attempting to join both the father and mother’s claim to the throne in the heir they would produce, and all the inheritance that would include, into one union.
If a royal marriage was childless, the king was then expected to marry his second, then third sister until an heir was produced. If there were no sisters to choose from, he could select a first cousin to procure a reasonably pure bloodline. Royal incest ceased when the Spanish conquered the Inca people. [7]
For royal brothers and sisters to produce an heir was considered to be very fortunate, and the offspring was thought to have extra mana, or power and prestige. No other claims to the throne would be considered if a strong union like this took place, and primogeniture was strictly enforced even if the firstborn was female.
The 19th-century Hawaiian writer David Malo describes the power hierarchy of Hawaiian royalty as interconnected with how related the parents of the new heir to the throne were. To keep the lineage as high-ranking as possible, suitable partners for a chief were his own sister or (if a sister was not available) a half-sister or niece. This kind of union was called a “loop, a thing bent on itself” and was so sacred that the offspring would be called divine . This way, the child was fit to become the next chief, without competition and powerful beyond question. [8]
Thai royal men had many wives and were much more inbred than their subjects, with large harems of women from different social classes, including those of their own kin.
In 1907, the reigning king, Paramindr Maha Chulalongkorn (aka Rama V), had two queens who were his half-sisters in order to procure an heir with the highest political status possible. Incest was not expressly forbidden to those outside the royal family as it was in other cultures. King Paramindr’s father had 84 children by 35 wives in his lifetime. Marriages were made for the royal family by “ kingmakers ” who were not close relatives, and unions between uncles and nieces and between half-siblings were common in order to maximize the political royal lineage for the next generation. [9]

People in Tibet do not discuss incest lightly, and some say it does not exist in their land at all. However, if and when it occurs, there is a special pilgrimage that may be done to purify the sins of the couple. Nal (“incest”) is a word found in rituals texts and exists today with the same meaning it has for the rest of the world.
One Tibetologist, Katia Buffetrille, recalls an account from 1989 in which a couple in a Tibetan village was found to have committed incest. They were beaten by the villagers and sent to the sacred place of Chorten Nyima, a mountain on the eastern ridge in the Himalayas, bordering India and Tibet. After they bathed in the sacred lake and spring, they obtained a sealed certificate of compliance to the ritual in the monastery and were then able to prove to the villagers they were now purified. Afterward, they returned to their families and previous social positions.
Incidentally, in Tibetan culture, had the man been of superior status, his mother would have gone to Chorten Nyima with him, and the woman would have gone with her father. One Sherpa told Buffetrille that on the journey to the sacred mountain, the couple rode on a bullock accompanied by a man on horseback but had to walk back to the village after the ritual. No stigma was attached to the couple after the sealed certificate was presented on their return. [10]
Alexa MacDermot is a psychology, sociology, and anthropology researcher living in Ireland.

By signing up you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy
Please tell us why you hid this ad?
Please tell us why you hid this ad?
Please tell us why you hid this ad?
Please tell us why you hid this ad?
Comments our editors find particularly useful or relevant are displayed in Top Comments , as are comments by users with these badges: . Replies to those posts appear here, as well as posts by staff writers.
Spam Offensive Disagree Off-Topic
Among the criteria for featured comments: likes by users, replies by users, previous history of valuable commenting, and selection by moderators.
Advice Carolyn Hax: New mom thinks she’s entitled to family’s hand-me-downs
Advice Ask Amy: Should I tell my adult son I’m not his biological father?
Perspective Queen Elizabeth II did her job
Elijah Wood supports diverse ‘Rings of Power’ cast after racism backlash
Advice Miss Manners: How do we keep a wedding small without offending family?
Unparalleled reporting. Expert insight. Clear analysis. Everything you’ve come to expect from the newsroom of The Post -- for your ears.
Keep supporting great journalism by turning off your ad blocker. Or purchase a subscription for unlimited access to real news you can count on.
Questions about why you are seeing this? Contact us
I watch a young mother climb into the swimming pool with her 3-year-old daughter. They wrap their arms securely around each other and playfully bob up and down. Not a hint of distrust crosses this child's face; she appears confident of her mother's love and protection.
After a few moments, the mother attempts to place the child into an inflatable toy ring. Protesting, the little girl begins to kick her feet and cling desperately to her mother's neck. The mother tries to assure her daughter that she will not be left adrift, but her efforts fail.
Acknowledging the fear, the mother tosses the ring onto the deck and gently kisses her daughter's cheek. A smile of success and relief appears on the child's face.
The memory surfaces of myself as a small child: My arms are wrapped around my father's neck while swimming in a lake. I see the same joy on my face as I just saw a moment ago on the child's, until my father reaches his hand under my swimsuit to fondle me. My look of joy suddenly turns to one of shame and fear.
Today, I am left with an image of horror and betrayal.
I acknowledge another equally painful memory, of my mother, who did not protect me from my father. I look at the little girl in the pool and wish that I could have felt the same bond of trust with my mother that she feels with hers. Tears form in my eyes, and I dive into the water so they will go unnoticed.
Vulnerability is difficult to expose to others, but now I can allow myself the relief of crying. For most of my life, the pain was buried under the defenses that I had developed to emotionally survive the incest. ::
My father, a former police officer, began to sexually abuse me at the age of 3 and continued until just prior to my 16th birthday. His assaults ranged from manual stimulation to oral, anal and vaginal penetration. As a child, I did not understand what my father was doing. It seemed that he was providing me with the love and affection that a child desperately needs from a parent. Only after he began to mention the word "secret" did I question if what we were doing was right.
My father never physically forced me to participate sexually with him until my mid-teens. His force was emotional. He was my father, and I trusted him.
Between the ages of 13 and 15, I informed four people of the incest: my mother, a physician, a schoolteacher and my best friend. None of them believed me. Yet my behavior at the time indicated that there was, in fact, something seriously wrong in my home environment.
I was desperately crying for help -- through bedwetting, truancy, poor academic performance, attention-seeking behavior, self-destructiveness, hypochondria, chronic depression, fatigue and eventually drug and alcohol abuse and promiscuity.
Physical indications of sexual abuse were also present, such as chronic upper respiratory, kidney and bladder infections, as well as gynecological problems and rectal bleeding. My entire physical and emotional being screamed for someone to recognize that something was deeply hurting me.
At 16, no longer willing or able to endure any further abuse, I ran away from home. A week later, my father found and brought me home, only to beat me and throw me physically out onto the sidewalk. My mother's immediate concern, I felt, was that the neighbors might see what was happening. I walked away knowing that I would never return home, even if it meant ending my own life.Putting aside my fear that again I would not be believed, I sought the help of a social worker at the county mental health center. Finally, someone knew that I was telling the truth. She looked at the bruises on my face and said that it was her responsibility to report child abuse to the Department of Social Services. She asked me if I would talk to a case worker. I said yes; she dialed the telephone.
As she talked to the case worker, my heart raced. I was terrified of what would happen next. Would my father go to jail? Would I be sent to a foster home?
That telephone call led to my father's indictment and a trial. Although I was relieved to be out of my parents' home, the thought of testifying against my father in court was horrifying. I was breaking the silence that he demanded I keep -- I was betraying him. I felt ashamed, as if I were to blame for the abuse and should have been able to stop him.
As I testified, I could see the hate in his eyes. My mother sat next to him; I had been abandoned. Her support of my father strengthened my belief that I was a very bad person.
At the end of the court proceedings, my father was convicted of criminal sexual conduct in the fourth degree. His sentence was a two-year probation, with an order for psychiatric treatment and a $750 fine.
My sentence was the emotional aftermath of the abuse.
Ten years have passed since the trial, and at age 26 I look back on the painful process of recovering. Healing the wounds of my childhood has required more than the passage of time.
In fact, most of this time was spent in a state of emotional denial. On an intellectual level, I knew that I had been a victim of incest, along with physical and emotional abuse. But on an emotional level, I felt numb. When talking about my experiences, it was as though I were speaking about someone totally separate from myself.
I lived from crisis to crisis, was unable to maintain a healthy intimate relationship and continued to abuse alcohol. I was financially irresponsible, chronically depressed, a compulsive overeater and lived in a fantasy world. Yet at times my behavior was the opposite: super-responsible, perfectionist, mature, overachieving and ambitious -- to the point of near exhaustion.
Behavior that I had developed as a child to protect myself from my father was also still present. I would sometimes awaken in the night, screaming for my father to leave me alone. Locking bathroom and bedroom doors, out of fear that someone would attempt to enter and violate me, was common.
The greatest effect of the abuse was the profound sense of guilt and shame that plagued me on a daily basis. I hated myself. No matter how hard I tried to feel good about myself, feelings of shame and worthlessness would surface. I continuously sought the approval of others. Surely someone would think that I was a good person if only I tried hard enough to please them. I would do almost anything for a friend or my employer to gain approval, even if that meant neglecting or overextending myself.
At times, my guilt would overwhelm me to the extent of becoming suicidal. I wanted to end the pain, not my life, but the two were deeply enmeshed. I desperately wanted someone to rescue me from my pain. Turning others into parental figures and expecting to be taken care of was a way of survival. I didn't have to face my losses if I could maintain the fantasy that someday I would have the kind of parents that I needed.
Eventually, I recognized my need to return to professional counseling. I had been in psychotherapy during the court proceedings, and again five years later.
This time, along with therapy, I sought the help of an incest survivors' support group. Being in the presence of others with similar experiences helped me feel that I was not alone in my quest for recovery. Hearing other victims talk about their sorrow, fear, rage and confusion allowed me to share my own feelings with them. We supported each other with acceptance and understanding, affirming that it was safe to grieve. Together, we acknowledged our need to learn ways of parenting ourselves. The skills that our parents should have taught us as children were absent. Essentially, we were growing up all over again.
In therapy, my social worker helped me become familiar with the little girl that I still carried with me -- the little girl who was hurt by her parents and needed me as the adult to love and accept her. First, we looked at how I treated the part of myself that was still a little girl. When she would cry for help, I would usually stifle her as much as my parents had. I learned that my self-abuse was directed at my little girl; I didn't want to acknowledge her existence. I was certain she was demanding, rebellious and a rotten little kid. After all, wasn't this the message that my parents had given me?
To help me get to know my little girl, I gave her a name that felt affectionate. "Punky" was a nickname that an aunt called me, so this was my choice. In therapy, I worked on teaching Punky to trust that I would not try to quiet her if she wanted to share her pain with me or my social worker. Learning to listen to her gave me tremendous insight into my own needs, feelings and behavior. Eventually, Punky learned that it was safe to trust -- not only me, but also others.
Trust is the foundation of a child's life; my father exploited that trust through incest. Without the ability to trust, it is impossible to develop loving relationships.Peeling back the layers of defenses to expose the core of my pain was frightening. Only by approaching and then retreating from my feelings could I allow myself to actively grieve. Trusting in my ability to stop when the pain became overwhelming was essential in allowing the grief to surface.
Losing control over my grief was a constant concern. I soon learned, however, that I had the inner strength to control my response to my own emotions, if only I would choose to exercise it.
For the first time, my tears began
Young Nude Model Photo
Please Wife
My Roommate Masturbates