Do you fart in front of your partner?
12 April 2016, 14:10
‘Did you just fart?’ he asked.
It had to happen. We were three months into our blissful union, high on endorphins and infatuation, when the desultory ‘poot’ made its little way into the world.
I lied. I had pooted.
I’m still not sure why I lied. After all, what must out must out. I suspect it was a subconscious panic response to a flash vision of the future, where one small poot had culminated in us couch-slouching in fleece Onesies, scoffing cheese puffs, and farting in each other’s faces like South Park’s Terrance and Phillip.
Which isn’t a very romantic view to take on a relationship in its ‘honeymoon phase’. Or at the three-year mark. Actually, probably not ever after that. At least in the Black household. I know a couple who’ve been married for years who enjoy seeing if they can out-fart and out-burp each other, but that’s just not my relationship jam.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I support keeping the romantic ‘mystique’ going at all costs to the sweet colon. Those who know me, know I’m very much about keeping it all very, very real.
In fact, just yesterday I came across this list of things not to do in front of your partner if you want to keep the mystery alive: no farting during sex, no period blood, no anuses, no labia in daylight, no poop talks, no face masks, no faces without make-up, no shaving, no pimple popping and no vomiting on your spouse – and thought ‘thank god for that “on”, because at least I’ve never actually vomited ON my partner’. Still some mystery there though, right?
But what kind of relationship is that? A relationship between mannequins?
So, I’m pretty open to sharing. Physical and emotional intimacy is a beautiful thing etc. Being your own true self, without the pretence, and being accepted wholesale is a joy. It’s the only way if you want to connect on an authentic level with your honey.
And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that there are limits to what is shared.
For example, mates and I were discussing toilet behaviour in the house. Now I believe that potty use is a solo performance. However, apparently, many people feel they can hang around brushing their teeth while their other half does their morning ‘business’.
Not me. For me, this is too much information. Share your poop stories when you’re done, by all means. (I was a vegetarian for years and those weirdos are always talking about their poop.) But I don’t need to be there for it. Just like I don’t to get intimate with voluminous fartin’ and burpin’ unless it’s coming out of a human smaller than my arm.
Look. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being uptight. Maybe love should be strong enough to hold it all, whatever your brand of fiemies.
But for me? Right now? If you need to fart, love means taking that plume to the other room.
Read Dorothy's blog, and follow her on Twitter.
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.