Kat Daughtry. Such an exotic creature. Not normal by any means. A button pusher. Bold. Blunt. Steampunk. Erotic. Beyond.
The main question I get is the famous, “What does your mother think of you and your porn writing?”
I love this question. I am sure such a thing like me existing in the bible belt of the South seems taboo. But, darling, all good things are.
First of all, my mother thinks lots of things of me. She has known me longer than anyone. She has seen me at my worst and some of my best. 😉 I was a good child. Spoiled, but good. I was a hell raising, down with tha man goth angry teenager. I am not really sure what I was angry about. My mother provided a damn good life for me. Maybe I was mad because I liked fishnets and leather and happy goths were unheard of in the 90s. My mother was always the definition of classy. She had a grand sense of humor, but she was always just a classy dame. She dressed well and carried herself with this southern Steel Magnolia manner that you just loved her. And beside her was this long hair, miniskirt and combat boots with a Marilyn Manson shirt and dark eyeliner pissed off because I like totally was hanging with my family that did everything for me and loved the crap out of me. Grrrr.
I was very OCD. I could travel up or down the east coast without using a public restroom no matter how clean they were- they were public, but I would demand and tantum to stay with friends that lived in filth. She couldn’t understand how I could do such. It was during these years, I learned to use the bathroom outside and I always carried tissues with me. (OCD, but hardcore.)
My mother dealt with me well. Better than most anyone could. The main time I remember seeing her southern scorn flame in full force is when anyone dared to mess with me. Be it a bully at school, a bad boyfriend or a holier than thou family member. I admit, I loved seeing that side of her- that mother instinct to protect me no matter how bad ass I thought I was. Funny thing, she is still the same now that I am grown.
I would say she thinks pretty highly of me considering I am well into my 30’s and those claws still come out with even the idea of someone hurting her baby.
Now, what does she think of me writing porn? First off, let us get clear on this. I do not write porn. There is not cheesy music or bad plots. I write around the theme of love. I do not believe in emotionless fornication. My first writings in erotica were written with a man I love dearly. I never hid this aspect from her. As a matter of fact she knew of the writing when it was nothing more than a possible idea. She read it and was highly impressed that this fella and I were so in tune, you could not tell the difference between the words each of us created. She became a fan of my erotic writing- a fan of his and a fan of us.
Yes, she is a bit more timid when it comes to the BDSM and the roles of Master and Submissive. Not that she judges my private choices, but my mother made sure she raised a dominant female and the thought of submission concerned her. She is my mother, that is understandable.
I recall leaving for a divine B&B to meet my former partner and I was supposed to call her when I got there to let her know I arrived safely. I was greeted at our suite door by a tall hunk of man with passion in his eyes and rope in his hand. It was wonderful. Much better than flowers. Some time into this adventure, my phone rang. I feared it was my mom, concerned that I had not made it, so bound to the bed, I insisted he check the phone. He ignored the call, as it was not from my mom- but I knew she would call anytime. I used my sweet eyes and had him dial my mother and hold the phone to my ear. I apologized for not calling her and explained as soon as I got to the room, I became tied up. She understood and went on to talk about things on television. I nodded along for a moment or two and then interrupted to explain to her that I was literally met at the door with rope and he was holding the phone to my ear since I could not move. She gasped and told me not to talk on the phone while doing such things. I told her I loved her and would talk to her soon. He hung up the phone for me and commented on how much more open southern women were than those he was used to. I am not sure all southerners are like that. Just the good ones.
Of course, being the mother that she is, the following weeks were filled with research on proper bondage and making sure I was aware that safe words should always exist and not be something commonly said during such interaction.
My mother is my source for bouncing around plot ideas and possible endings. My mom is the bouncer of my life and will quickly give her opinions on who is worthy of being a part of it and who is not. My mom knows I am anything but vanilla and I think she is proud to know that I have no issue not conforming. My mom is my support and she is my best friend. She is my fan and she is the only person that knows how to keep me in line. My mom is southern, sassy, classy, smart, and sexy. She is everything I thrive to be, only she is more of an old school southern belle as to my personality holds very little back. I am sure she is happy that I use my father’s last name to write the good and dirty, but she would support me even if I wrote under Lickety Dickety or Hickory Dickory. But thanks to her wonderfulness, and I did ask before coming out as an erotic writer, she was just fine with me owning my genetic name.
To wrap up this YAY MOM post, here are a few things I love about my mom:
*She used to wake me on school morning blaring oldies music and dancing at my door.
*I look just like her and I love it when people say so.
*She loves to cry. It doesn’t matter if it is a sad movie or something online about a soldier. She cries for love, for pain, for patriotism, for hope, for happiness. I have never been a crying sort. I pick on her for crying. But it shows how beautiful her heart is.
*She drinks coffee to the point that if I purchased stock, it would be in coffee.
*She cooks better than any southern woman you will ever know.
*She is strong and independent and nobody will ever change that.
*She learns and loves herself more each day and she has taught me to do the same.
Happy Mother’s Day to my mom- the surprisingly normal and beautiful, patriotic, God loving, Native American, hard working, bedroom eyes-having, strong, southern pearl that she is and inspires me to be. I love you.