So all of that indirect communication and strangeness with my mother was probably all part of the beginning of the shame. Of course, the shame is not surprising in the least, since smoking is something that has become increasingly taboo. My father strongly disapproved of my mother's smoking. But he also was a supportive husband, and if she asked him to buy them for her at the store, he would comply because it wasn't loving to say "no, do it yourself", especially if the weather had been bad outside. Given the lack of giving and communication that I observed between my mother and father in general, I have often wondered if that one act of selfless generosity, "I will buy you cigarettes even though I disapprove of your smoking", in some way contributed to my having a fetish in the first place. Perhaps that was the only thing I ever saw my father do for my mother when I was a kid? I don't really know. They were not close. They argued a bit. Never saw them hug or kiss. They didn't even sit on the sofa together. By the time I was 8 or 9 years old, they were sleeping in separate beds in the same room. So perhaps my little brain was trying to understand what makes a bond between two people? Where is the connection? And the wedge topic was the smoking. His care for her health and well-being was demonstrated by his admonishing her smoking. But at the same time, he would buy them for her. Maybe he had a smoking fetish?! Maybe it was genetic?
Well, I know it wasn't genetic. Because I can see no biological explanation for that. I am not even sure if any research has ever shown fetish of any sort to be genetically linked, though that would be an interesting PubMed search for later.
I won't ever know the origin. And it doesn't matter. It just kind of sucks to want to guess.
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