Friday, May 22, 2009


Memorial Day's the unofficial start of summer. Soon, as the showtune goes, June will be busting out all over. Longer, lazier days; the green of trees in the parks of New York City; the red paint toes of all the anonymous subway women i ogle on a downtown train. But I realize in May that June is such an emotionally loaded month for me. A virtual Coney Island funhouse of distorted mirrors and scary goblins. For June is the month my mother died and the month my brother committed suicide. June snuck up on me in May, got its hooks in me and wouldn't let go.

My mother was a strong, successful, dominating woman. It is too simple and just plain inaccurate to credit and blame her for my kinks. But she had a guiding hand. A hand not always kind and gentle. She is gone seventeen years now, but her spirit snuck up this year, grabbed me by the ear and whispered - do not forget.

My brother, dressed only in panties, suffocated himself with a plastic bag in a motel room. He was of me - a part of my soul - despite the fact that after my mom's death we had become completely estranged. We shared inherited kinks. He loved cross dressing. But he'd dress and put himself in situations he'd be "discovered" and physically hurt. He'd goad others into punishing him for his love of women's clothes. He became addicted to crack cocaine. And then he was no more. He is gone ten years now, but his spirit snuck up this year, grabbed my sleeve and shouted - do not forget.

The light I've let into my life finally illuminated the spirits that haunt me in May. As the counter-weight promise of my June passage brings another new summer to stretch out in welcome warmth, the pain of prior loss recedes and I look forward to the red paint toes of a downtown train.


Her Majesty's Plaything said...

Hi Advo:

Wow! That was tremendously heart felt and beautifully written!

I am so sorry to hear about what happened to your brother! Calamities like that change us forever. They either mold us into who we are or they break us. As someone who is fascinated with what makes submissive men tick it is interesting to know that he was one of us, though his particular twist on it was extremely tragic. I am convinced that the psychological hard wiring that makes us who we are occurs early in life and has a lot to do with our family relationships.

We also have a crack cocaine addict in our family. His addiction is baffling and infuriating. I tried taking him to a meeting over a decade ago. The folks in the rooms sussed him out immediately. He did not fool them. He is a master of self deception who has never been serious about getting sober. He goes for months and years seemingly without incident then we get the inevitable phone call. It only works if you work it, as both you and I know.

Finally about your Mom, my mother was very much the same way. She was very successful in her field long before women were given the opportunity to succeed at much of anything. She loved me a lot but was also emotionally distant sometimes, doubtless because she was earning her PHD when I was very young and needed her attention the most. She also came from an incredibly dysfunctional family and sometimes became extremely out of control and abusive. She was the disciplinarian in the house but when she beat me she was often full of rage and out of control. I am *positive* that a lot of my subbie maso wiring comes directly from her!

We have a problematic relationship though we are still close. My next project is to move her here to Philadelphia and put her in an assisted living community. I am not looking forward to this next phase of her life and fear that it will be fraught with tremendous stress and emotional upheaval.

Thanks for sharing this. I got a lot out of reading it. Now back to the painted summer toenails of June! ;-)



advochasty said...


Thanks. Didn't know if it wasn't too private to write about so I'm glad it resonated. There's something about writing of my brother's tragedy that was freeing for me.

This separated at birth/parallel lives thing we have going just keeps getting more and more so! A good chunk of my submissive wiring is related to Mommy Dearest. Accomplished woman, not a wonderfully nurturing mother.

I got lots of great stuff from her though.

But I gotta go catch that Downtown Train. Don't you just love the bullet bra on the "Brooklyn Girl" in the Waits video?

Her Majesty's Plaything said...


I'm glad writing the experience down and sharing it was cathartic for you. I often find the same thing about blogging.

"Accomplished woman, not a wonderfully nurturing mother." Ditto here. You and I have so much in common it's scary.

Hey great video! Great song! Great bullet bra! ;-)