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Tim's avatar
Mar 23Edited

Oh. My. Goodness.

It feels like you’ve just dropped 20 pieces in my lap, and now so many things in the jigsaw puzzle of my life are starting to fit together.

I’m pretty sure now that my mother has that “love is conditional” overactive threat detection down in her brain stem, (or lizard brain, in the lizard/monkey/human model of brain evolution.)

I think she’s exhausted her reserve of accommodation, in this case for vocal prosody that has the slightest twinge of accusation, or saccharine.

I on the other hand, with autism, can’t produce control over what I cannot perceive. (Subtlety of vocal inflection) Much like that show where the painter went completely colorblind, and the only way he could continue working was to throw all his paint away except black and white.

I really need to get out there and find my directive female.

Rectrix's avatar

Once again, you've helped me understand myself. Why I feel so deeply in the friend zone of the powerful woman at work who authorizes me, orbiting her, following her, promoting her, listening to her. Why I respond to my girlfriend's motherly cadence, her "it's alright," her "you're my breast boy," why I feel so pernitted when she says I may cum, why I feel so settled when I tell her "I feel safe" between her breasts, why I tell her "I am a breast boy."

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