u/White-Rabbit-308

Rule 5: Me 48, son 26

First of all, thank you so much to those of you who offered words of support, encouragement and solidarity following the post I made about my feelings towards my son 2 weeks ago, whether that was in the comments or in direct messages. Many of you have been very pleasant and interesting to talk to, and have provided very helpful perspective to me. The number of direct messages have been overwhelming so I apologize if I haven’t responded to yours yet, I will in time. I’m not a “redditor” by any means, I only made this account to post on this forum and seek advice, so there are fairly large swaths of time where I simply haven’t been online. I promise I’m not ignoring you, I will get to you, promise.

On the subject of DMs, many of you have been wonderful to talk to you, many of you have not. If your desire is to ask me deeply personal questions, sexual questions, or if you treat this like some kind of fetish, I’m not going to engage with you. Use common sense and consider what would be appropriate to ask a stranger in the real world.

Many of you have asked for updates and I’m afraid there just isn’t mush for me to report on. Things are mostly the same between myself and my son. I asked him if he’d be uncomfortable with me dating again and he seemed confused as to why he would even take issue with it. To paraphrase his response, we’re both adults, I deserve love and affection, why wouldn’t it be fine? The plan for the time being is to wait for the divorce arbitration to end and then to dip my toe into the dating scene. I know that my feelings toward my son aren’t wrong but I want to make sure that I’m not just trying to fill the void. If anything comes of that, I’ll get my own place. If dating ends up being a bust, I think I’ll ask my son if he’d like to move into a larger place together. No matter what his feelings toward me might be, I’ve come to realize that I have a hard time living on my own, and he seems to enjoy having me around. When there’s a more substantial development in my love life, or perhaps our love life, I’ll make another post

Per rule 5, I’m 48, my son is 26, his father is 56 in case that’s relevant.

Six months ago, I discovered my husband was cheating on me with a (former) close friend of mine. We’re fairly sexually liberal and once upon a time had an open relationship, but that time had long passed and (I thought) we agreed to settle down with each other. It was on the basis of our former open dynamic that he tried to gaslight me into thinking all of this was okay, which made me furious. I called my lawyer to start the divorce process and moved in with my son.

My son had been out of our house for about seven years, with the exception of a few month stay at our place right after he graduated college. I was beyond grateful that he let me stay with him at his apartment, and moved by how empathetic he was to what was happening between me and his father. It almost seemed like he was more angry at his dad than I was. From the beginning of my stay with him I felt supported and cared for in a way that I hadn’t been in a very long time. That support made me start to look at him in a very different light. He was still my little boy and I still loved him like any mother loves a son, but I also admired him to an extent that felt almost inappropriate. I showed my gratitude by pitching in on housekeeping while he was at work (I’ve got a small online retail business so I’m at home 99% of the time anyways). A little while after I started doing that, I started to make dinner for him as well, at first just a few nights a week when I had the inspiration, to nightly. He’d frequently joke about what a good housewife I make, I’d laugh it off but linger on that suggestion for a very, very long time. I realized I wanted to be his housewife, to love him fully and completely, like he deserved.

In the evenings after dinner we’re inseparable. In my marriage I was used to watching my shows and movies in one room while my husband watched his shows and movies in another room. My son and I do everything together. He takes an interest in what I like to watch or read, and I can’t help but take an interest in what he likes. When it’s time for bed he’ll usually go to his room and I’ll sleep on the pull-out in the couch, but sometimes, and recently more and more frequently, he’ll stay in the living room going through investment portfolios or a book in the chair in the corner of the room. Falling asleep knowing he’s right there with me makes me feel so unbelievably secure.

With all of this is the undeniable reality that he is very physically attractive. He was always handsome, but maybe because our dynamic has shifted so much (at least from my perspective) I’m looking at him, his face and his body in a new light. Not to mention the fact that catching glimpses of each other naked is a semi regular occurrence. I don’t mean to imply we’re nudists, just that walking in on each other changing or in the bathroom is unavoidable in such a small space. On the occasions where he doesn’t realize I’m looking, I have found myself lingering a little longer than I should. Admiring, sometimes fantasizing.

We’re still getting the divorce wrapped up and finalizing who gets what, and once it’s over I’ll likely have the funds to get my own place. But I’m not sure if I want to. In all honesty I don’t know what I want. There’s a very loud, very driven part of me that wants to tell him how I feel, to wrap my arms around him and tell him I love him more than anyone or anything. I want to be his lover, his rock, and I’d give anything in the world to be his wife, as crazy as that sounds. But there’s another part of me that is terrified of what might happen if he doesn’t reciprocate, and even more terrified of what might happen if he did reciprocate and other people found out. And then there’s another part, past desire and past fear that’s just overwhelming shame. I think about the fact that I’m having these thoughts about the person I gave birth to and raised and I feel sick, like I should punish myself for feeling this way.

I’m hoping by telling my story here I can find an empathetic ear, maybe other women who are in similar circumstances and can relate. I’ve thought about making this post in other reddit forums but much of their user base seems to be pornographic fiction. This one seems more legitimate by far. Please feel free to comment if my situation is similar to yours or if you can advise me on what I should do.