I'm massaging my little sister Miriel. She's lying on her belly, wearing only a thong bikini, almost naked from the back, and I'm getting hot. Pick up another swimsuit and put it on her, over the other suit. It's equally skimpy, but a different design. I spread her legs and pull the webbing over her cunt, carefully fitting it just so with lascivious fingers. It too leaves her ass bare; I knead the muscles. Like caramel. I have a throbbing erection.

Miriel rolls over and says "Your turn." She reaches for my zipper and frees my cock. She pets it once... and my mother walks in.

She ignores our nakedness, the smell of lust filling the room, Miriel's hand around my erect penis. She's decided not to see incest, no matter what! Instead, she starts criticizing me for something with no connection to sex at all! Money or something. "You were irresponsible, idiotic, inexcusable!" She rants on and on. Only at me of course--because I'm the abuser, I'm to blame, I'm molesting poor Miriel the victim. But for the first time, I see her savage attack isn't about what she says, at all. Nor is it about incest.

I'm having fun and I'm a man and men are selfish and must be stopped. It's that simple.

And for the first time, in the face of her raving hostility, my cock stays erect in Miriel's hand. I start rocking my hips. Her fingers tighten around me.

As my mom tells me I'm slime.

The dream fades there, and I know why. I'm torn. Torn between two endings. In a minute, I'll come all over my mom, spattering her with the thing that disgusts her most, the white slime of pure male pleasure, the malest thing in the world, and proof she's lost forever, might as well pack up her vitriol and go home. But still... if I do that, I'll be coming in anger. There's another choice: to ignore my mom, and stroke sweet Miriel's dark blonde hair and ask her "lick me, please suck me, I'm going to come, I want to come inside you just once. Oh, Miriel, I love you." And come in love.

Incest... but love.

To defeat a voice of hate? Or consummate forbidden love? Which matters more? Which one to resolve, after all these years?

And so I wake, torn between two things I wanted so long. Two admissions: that I love my sister and hate my mom. Two resolutions.

Though writing this out makes it clear. If I turn away from guilt and hatred, ignoring it for love and sex, don't I win both struggles at once?

NOTE ON WAKING UP

Whew! My clearest dream yet about what triggers anorexia and other self-punishment: NOT what I thought. Not sex in general, not guilt over incest feelings, or over taking sexual initiative. Receiving! Mom the inner critic doesn't appear when I feel sexual desire, nor incest--not even when I grab my little sister. Nor when she responds, nor while I'm pleasing Miriel... she attacks only when Miriel tries to please me back and I finally let her.

This voice LIES about why it criticizes me. Not sex, not being attracted to girls who resemble my sister (which isn't twisted at all--just good taste!) If this inner voice were honest, I'd be able to answer its charges: "I'm having incestuous feelings, yes, but this isn't abuse: we're mutual, consenting adults." So my critic gets devious, punishes me for anything BUT her real concern! This mom-tape in my head sounds like the source of my perfectionist, workaholic fits--not to mention, almost certainly, my years of struggle with anorexia.

I'm not forbidden to give. Just to get.

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