Heh, so if I'd swung the other way entirely I'd be a Granola Lesbian. That figures - the neighborhood is full of them (although the ones across the street with the two little boys moved to Bethesda last year). I'm really not seriously obsessed with the health food stuff enough to be a good one, though.
I never seem to get the kind of fussing over in person that I want, but online seems to be working out fairly well for giving me a goodly portion of what I need ... . I think my mother got overwhelmed by her emotions about my neediness when I was sick or hurt - I've felt it myself with Caroline sometimes - so I didn't get what I wanted and was too self-denigrating to think of demanding it.
The first time I remember coming across hurt/comfort was during the Batman movie of my childhood: Robin takes a bullet in the foot and Batman has to take it out ... my first slashy moment! (Although I didn't realize it until 20 years or more later.) There's also a lovely sequence in Rumer Godden's children's book The Diddakoi, which is about a young Romany orphan and how she eventually finds a - somewhat unconventional - family, where seven-year-old Kizzy is convalescing from pneumonia, and the description of what enticing little bits of food she's given, and the coal fire in the old nursery where she's staying, and how the kind old Admiral whose house it is comes to visit her every morning ... .
no subject
Heh, so if I'd swung the other way entirely I'd be a Granola Lesbian. That figures - the neighborhood is full of them (although the ones across the street with the two little boys moved to Bethesda last year). I'm really not seriously obsessed with the health food stuff enough to be a good one, though.
I never seem to get the kind of fussing over in person that I want, but online seems to be working out fairly well for giving me a goodly portion of what I need ... . I think my mother got overwhelmed by her emotions about my neediness when I was sick or hurt - I've felt it myself with Caroline sometimes - so I didn't get what I wanted and was too self-denigrating to think of demanding it.
The first time I remember coming across hurt/comfort was during the Batman movie of my childhood: Robin takes a bullet in the foot and Batman has to take it out ... my first slashy moment! (Although I didn't realize it until 20 years or more later.) There's also a lovely sequence in Rumer Godden's children's book The Diddakoi, which is about a young Romany orphan and how she eventually finds a - somewhat unconventional - family, where seven-year-old Kizzy is convalescing from pneumonia, and the description of what enticing little bits of food she's given, and the coal fire in the old nursery where she's staying, and how the kind old Admiral whose house it is comes to visit her every morning ... .