by: Mar Curran
Internet, I am fairly vanilla when it comes to what I find sexy, or at least it seems that way in comparison to some of my friends’ proclivities. Are you covered in blood? Dressed as a Nazi? Have stinky feet? Sorry, you’re not my particular boner jams. But I do have one deep, dark sexual attraction which I cannot hide any longer.
I have a thing for moms. Well, actually not so much, but that’s what I tell everyone. Let me explain.
This all started, as I’m sure many of your sexual awakenings did too, with the movie Fargo. Frances McDormand for some reason was cast as the romantic lead in my mind when I first watched it. It wasn’t her pregnancy that turned me on, no. It was her Midwestern politeness, her simplicity, her classic bob haircut. I have a thing for the traditional Midwestern mom, America.
You see, I am usually the nurturer in many of my relationships. I am the guy who will show up with soup and a grilled cheese when it’s a rainy day, and maybe some Mucinex if you’re sick. In the past this had led to very one-sided caring in relationships. People got used to me taking care of everything and never realized I needed some of that care back until I was sobbing in our shared bed about needing Chipotle burritos and to watch Spring Breakdown on repeat a few times (my former favorite self-care routine). This, coupled with some baggage about not feeling nurtured growing up, has left me feeling a few times like I have had to be the unemotional, selfless rock in relationships past. Partly my fault, yes, but basically just a shitty situation.
It’s not so surprising to me, then, that my psyche decided to make up for the lack of nurturing by making my brain attracted to society’s supposed super nurturer. All of a sudden, after one seriously messed up set of power dynamics in a relationship, I could barely sit through a Sandra Bullock movie. Reader, did you know you’re not supposed to be turned on during most of The Blind Side? My genitals apparently do not!
I am happy that I majored in Women’s Studies because it lets me see past the societal construct of women as the emotional nurturers in relationships. I see that people of all genders can be nurturers and women-identified people don’t necessarily have to be nurturing. Plus, I had to go on a difficult self-discovery journey this summer about learning to take care of myself and allowing others to practice some self-reliance when I needed some Mar-time. (Similar to maritime, but a little different.)
This evolved into a new kind of crushing on nurturers– getting in touch with my desire to be a parent. Now I can’t go on a date without thinking, “Would I want this person to raise three to eight children with me?” I should basically change my OKCupid to read, “Do you have younger siblings you adore? Do you work as a nanny? Are you known for being gentle and soft-spoken? Will my siblings be like, ‘Damn put a ring on them?’ Then let us mate.” I’m lucky my biological clock is buried under some belly fat or something and I don’t have to deal with a timeline on this. It’s basically just a “figure it out when you meet someone you want to have kids with” plan, not so much a “by the time I’m thirty or I’ll die” thing. This prevents my attraction to my children’s possible future other-parent to remain just a biological and psychological interest point/bonus feature, not turn them into a slab of meat as I have seen in many romcoms and reality shows.
Basically, what I’m saying is, even though Patrick Gill likes to bring up in public that I have a mom fetish that’s not entirely true. I have a fetish of being in a mutually nurturing relationship and having kids. I am outing myself as a queer person who really wants a stable, healthy, loving relationship and to raise some younguns. HOT STUFF! But it’s good to have gained some clarity on why my crush on Sam Jaeger on Parenthood has nothing to do with his last name reminding me of drinking and more to do with him being a tender and doting father and husband. I will keep living my life walking towards the goal of having a larger family someday, surrounded by my biological siblings, chosen gamily members, partner, and children. Until that time, though, I will be content to follow Sandra Bullock’s career and let the jokes about Jessica Simpson’s pregnant magazine cover roll my way. I’m not even mad. Someday I’ll show my kids this piece and they’ll laugh. At me, not with me.
Mar Curran is a trans/queer rights activist and community organizer; he is on the boards of Video Action league, Advocate Loyola, the Queer intercollegiate Alliance, and works with GetEQUAL. As spoken word artist, he has read at each All The Writers I Know event. He studies Communications and Women’s Studies at Loyola University Chicago. Curran likes beer and cats.