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Posted in Lifestyle Fashion

I farted in front of my boyfriend and he still loves me

Once you get to know me, you will see that I am a loud and expressive person. The filter between my brain and my tongue fails me 75% of the time, but I’m fine with that; I throw out weird comments and move on to the next one almost instantly. And I agree 90% with that.

This quadrupled in my relationship. After three years of being together, I think my boyfriend has seen and heard just about everything. The key word here is almost.

Although I feel extremely comfortable in my own skin around him, there is one thing I refuse to admit to him. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my bowel movements and all that goes with it. Yes, I’m talking about poop and farts.

For three years, I held it all back until the moment I was in my own space at least 10 meters from him. For three years I denied having done anything to my butt. oh that? That’s just for decoration. There were times when I longed to talk about my ‘proud moments’, if you know what I mean, but I always held back. What if he suddenly remembers my farting while we were kissing and it makes him sick? What if my farts drown him? What if my confession of my natural body shapes changes everything in my relationship?

I was stuck in this painful cycle of clenching my teeth through uncomfortable gas cramps after meals or just relieving myself, but I always chose the latter.

This stopped unexpectedly last week.

It was an early Monday night and we were laying in bed, watching TV and feeling 100% comfortable. We were completely relaxed; me in my fluffy hotel robe, him in pajamas. Each one did their thing and enjoyed the silent company of the other, until the most unpredictable thing happened.

I farted.

Aloud.

My jaw dropped in awe, my heart racing at what felt like a million BPM, and my sweat glands pumping all the water in my body through my skin. What just happened? How can I deny this? What do I say? Are we breaking up?

My boyfriend, on the other hand, slowly turned his head towards me and laughed. Then he turned his attention back to his video game.

I… I don’t know what that was. I tried to cover it with sugar. It’s okay, it calmed me down.

As a result of the shock and amusement, mostly from his response, I started laughing to myself. He joined, but then he went back to his game and I went back to my TV show.

And that was it. The whole situation lasted for about 45 seconds and nothing changed after that. SAY OH! The embarrassment that came with that unforeseen gas hit was abrupt and the consequences were nil.

I almost felt proud of myself for being able to get through it and not stop or panic about it. It felt like a new chapter had unfolded in my relationship, one where the girl accidentally farts. I felt as if she had conquered another fear, as if she had brought me even closer to my boyfriend.

Ladies, here’s the thing. It’s okay to let one break once in a while. Trust me, I’ve had to sneak into bathrooms and turn the faucets all the way to fart a little in all of my relationships. It’s tiring, it can cause constipation, and it’s even bad for the environment (shower poop? You know what I’m talking about?). Our men don’t really care what our asses do, as long as we’re not dirtying their sheets or forgetting to flush.

It’s okay to let go once in a while.

But that’s as far as I’ll go for now. I don’t think I’m ready for full conversations and rating systems for my guts. Maybe it’s something I can save for when I get married?

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