For reasons I have never quite understood, children tend to flinch, blanch and wince at any suggestion that their parents might have had sex for the pure pleasure of it, rather than solely for the purpose of having children. It has never made sense to me that a child might prefer to think they were conceived by an emotionally disconnected physical act, rather than one drenched in pleasure and absorbed in carnal indulgence and abandon. It seems to be almost universally against the nature of children to think of their parents as having had a sexual appetite, let alone a possibly ravenous one. Taking pleasure is often perceived as selfish, and parents are supposed to be decidedly self-less. Indeed if children were to spend any time thinking about their parents having been so physically and emotionally enraptured and enwrapped, other questions might arise from which to further flinch, blanch and wince. Such as how often their parents had sex. And what kind of sex they had. And where they had it. And under what circumstances. Which might actually lead to a conversation with their parents about, well, you know…sex. Children don’t want to go there. Nor, really, do their parents. Parent/child conversations about sex usually revolve around the egg/sperm get together, and preventing pregnancy and being responsible and careful and cautious. With all the worry involved, how can one openly and curiously venture into the dangerous territory of physical pleasure? All of which musings would naturally lead to these dreaded, inevitable, inexorable, and ultimate queries: Within all of our parents’ wanton and woozy pleasure, did they actually mean to have us or was our conception merely a byproduct of sex rather than as the sole intended purpose of it? Are we meant to be here, or were we merely accidents?… Continue reading Our Mothers, Sex…and Freedom