TL;DR: Ladies, it’s time to reveal our best kept secret: that we fart (and poop). Nothing says “confidence” like a loud and proud stinker around your man. If you’re in it for the long run, you might as well bare all. You’ll feel better.
I remember the night Phillip farted in front of me for the first time. We were perhaps two or three weeks into dating (nearly five years ago), basking in our mid-20s and, at the time, living with our parents three minutes apart.
We were cuddling on his bed and watching something on TV one night. Then I heard it. It was an audible with no obvious odor (the latter a rarity today).
“Sorry” was all he said.
I can’t remember if I said something like “It’s cool” or didn’t respond at all, but I remember feeling a little awkward despite my penchant for potty humor. Maybe subconsciously my caricature of him went from “good-looking 6’4” dude” to “oh, wait, he’s gross, too.” That fart broke the seal, and as time went on, I learned that on the flatulence spectrum, he was an “11” (Spinal Tap reference).
We moved in together 1.5 years later. I remember lying awake in my old bed the morning of the move, thinking, “This might be the last time I’ll be able to fart freely for a long time.” While Phillip could fart loudly and proudly, I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of farting around him. The judgment. The humiliation. The shame. I couldn’t reveal women’s best kept secret: that all women—even supermodels and Angelina Jolie—fart, and poop. I let out every fart I had accumulated during the night to prepare for the journey.
At what point did I master the art of farting in front of Phillip? Why, I’m glad you asked, kind reader!
There’s a saying, whether or not you agree with it: “It’s better to let out a fart and feel the shame than to hold it in and feel the pain.” A couple of years into living together, I felt like Elton John when he couldn’t hide his homosexuality any longer (and yes, I watched Rocketman recently). I couldn’t continue masking my farts and the animal-like tendencies we all share. I grew tired of methodically letting out my farts so Phillip could neither smell nor hear them.
Yes, for two whole years, I kept them as quiet and away from his nose as possible, even though he kept farting with unparalleled confidence. After two whole years, I realized that if you’re in a relationship for the long run, then you might as well open your kimono and bare all.
So, just like I coach women past anxiety and insecurity in their relationships, I coached myself toward taking a risk: letting out an audible fart within earshot of Phillip.
I felt one coming one day and thought, “Here goes nothing!” We were either in the kitchen or bathroom, and I released the Kraken. It came roaring out, and he didn’t react.
He didn’t even hear it.
Maybe that’s what it’s like to be 6’4” and surrounded by short people: You don’t always hear and smell things from all the way up there.
But I survived, and I was prepared for when he could hear one. A few audible farts later, he finally said what I normally say when I smell a stinker from him: “Did you just fart?!”
“Yup!” I said with unparalleled confidence.
And that was that. I opened my kimono, bared all, and survived.
If the time is right and you’re having a hard time “baring all” in front of your partner, then fill out the form at the bottom of this page and I’ll be in touch ASAP.
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