The other day I had breakfast with a friend who suffers from the same sexual affliction as me: older, famous men. If you know who my father is, then it’s quite obvious where this comes from. I don’t even need a therapist to tell me what’s going on here, talk about an on-the-nose, run-of-the-mill daddy issue, for fucks sake. Gross. Anyway, my friend doesn’t have a famous dad so I’m not sure what her deal is, but she too gets turned on by this freaky specificity. Honestly, having a friend with a niche as fucked up as mine fills me with delight. Strength in numbers.
Being seen, adored, doted on by a powerful legend makes us feel special, because when genius recognizes genius, it’s extra validating. Right? Am I right? And then there’s the fantasy aspect. I can get the feeling of loving, and even better, of being loved without having to engage in real intimacy. Because I don’t actually want these relationships to become anything more than some sexually charged text messages and maybe a din…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to HollyWould to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.