Step 9 Coming to terms

"Fertility is not just a physical state but a spiritual one, it is the energy that coursed through the earth which also flows through him"

He woke up in the early morning light, rejuvenated, his mind still spinning from the vivid images of last night. He sat up slowly in bed, staring at the familiar walls of his room, trying to make sense of what had happened. Had it been real? Her eyes—those familiar brown eyes—looked at him as he was on top of her. The pleasure he felt... Max had never been one to believe in the strange, the supernatural, or anything that couldn't be explained. But last night’s dream was different. It stayed with him, and he had to admit to himself that he liked it.

Jonah shrugged and slid into his chair. “Yeah. Just... weird dreams.”

there was a soft understanding in her voice. “Want to talk about it?”

Jonah shook his head, trying to push the memory of it away. “It’s not a big deal. Just... one of those dreams, I guess.” But even as he said it, he knew it was more than just a dream.

He could still feel it—feel it—like it was happening to him all over again. In the dream, he was running. Or... maybe being chased? The sensation had been the same, like something was always right behind him, too close. His legs had moved stiffly, sluggishly, like his muscles were frozen in place. He’d tried to sprint, but they just wouldn’t cooperate. His body didn’t feel like it was his own. Every step was an effort. His skin was slippery—a weird, slick sensation, like he’d been coated in something thick, something that clung to him, preventing him from moving smoothly.

And the tightness. God, the tightness in his muscles had been unbearable, like he was made of stone but still trying to run, trying to escape. His joints locked, his arms felt too heavy, his chest too tight to breathe. He could still feel the strain of it, the physical pain that had coursed through him as if he hadn’t really been asleep at all.

He wanted to tell her about it, but he couldn’t yet. He couldn’t quite find the words for something that felt too real to be just a dream.

His mother looked at him kindly, her eyes soft but unwavering. “Max, these things are for your confidence. For you to never forget how much strength and stamina you have, even on days when you doubt your potential.”

“Every day, I will wake you up and remind you that I have something to offer. Not because you demand it, but because I expect myself to do. You see, confidence isn’t something you just get once and keep forever. It’s like a muscle that needs to be nurtured and built. And that confidence.” Laura said while longingly looking at his groin "is growing down there. Everyday."

Max nodded slowly, realizing the truth in his mother’s words. It wasn’t just about performing some degraded ritual to feel better—it was about internalizing those affirmations, no matter where there are from. It was about him understanding that confidence came from fertility and social status expressed through it.

After that afternoon, Evan called his mother to his room. “Mom,” he said, his voice sincere, “I’ve been thinking about the things you did for me, these rituals. I understand now. You were trying to make sure I was confident enough to face the life I want. And I get it. I do need them. I need you, even if I didn’t know it before. And that means I will be more proactive in the future.”