1. I just can’t shake it. Is there really no solution for this? Do I really just have to accept it and move on?
Well, I can’t. Maybe I just inherited my dad’s stubbornness, but I can’t. I won’t take a fuckin’ raw deal no matter what it is.
Are we really expected to just roll over and be content with the fact that we got royally fucked over from birth? That’s horseshit. I ain’t buyin’ it. No one should.
If I’m some kind of “human” that “deserves love” like the bleeding hearts that come on here love to spout, then why is it so fucking controversial for us to say that we deserve better than this?
I realize that what I’m saying here may come off as delusional. I want to assure you, I do understand that there’s really nothing to be done that would actually make my dick bigger; really, I get that. I’ve been dealt this hand and I’m stuck with it until the day I die.
Even still, I just can’t accept it. The very attempt to internalize the idea that I should be content with what I was born with just triggers the bullshit detector. It just doesn’t compute.
It’s the main reason why therapy just never has done anything for me. It doesn’t work for me because it doesn’t actually fix the problem. It just makes it easier for you to accept that shit’s fucked.
So you stop caring, or at least you stop caring as much. I just can’t do that, though. Every time I try the things they tell you to do in cognitive behavioral therapy (which has the most unfortunate of abbreviations, I might add) it just feels like I’m deluding myself into a false sense of security.
Like I’m just setting myself up to fall even harder once the veil is lifted and reality smacks me in the face. Lulling myself into a state of ignorant bliss is no solution at all. There will always be something that comes along and disrupts that reverie, and I’d be all the worse off for it.
Mindfulness does nothing for me either. There’s never any time when I’m not living with this problem, so “living in the moment” is a total non-starter. “Living in the moment” doesn’t help when every moment is anguish. Maybe I’m just doing it wrong, but it just doesn’t do anything for me. Maybe I’m an idiot. Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m an idiot – but I digress.
I spouted a lot of shit here, but whatever. I don’t even care if anyone reads this. Maybe you shouldn’t. Oh well, too late now, I guess.
I’m going to bed. Maybe I’ll actually be able to sleep this time.
2. In my 21 years of living, I only recall measuring a maximum of two times in my life, the second most recent time being about three years ago, the most recent being just last night.
Those three years ago, I knew I didn’t measure it right; my dick curves moderately downward (from the base to the head), and the only measuring tape I had at the time couldn’t bend, so I couldn’t get the most accurate result. I was, however, very disappointed with what it said regardless.
As time went on, though it took a couple years, I finally managed to sweep reality under the rug and stop caring about its size so much.
Recently, however, my demons have resurfaced and have been eating me alive. Last night, I couldn’t sleep over it, and had enough.
Everybody’s telling me not only how much it doesn’t matter, but also that my size is really not even that bad and totally satisfactory.
“Is it really not as bad as everybody says? Because you know, maybe there’s some truth to what everyone is telling me after all,” I thought.
So around 2:00 AM and being unable to sleep over it, I drew the line and needed to know the absolute truth.
I needed to know where I stood in comparison, and having recently purchased the proper measuring tape (that’s paper thin and bends) for when this very time would come, I got myself hard and laid it on top of my dick stretching it to the base, as well as wrapped it around my shaft and measured the circumference.
Both results were nothing short of completely heartbreaking.
I felt so broken, and have never felt more disappointed in and worthless about my dick in my entire life.
For a split second, I swear to you, I wished I was dead.
Again, I’m 21 now; it’s not like I have any more growing to do. So that was it. I now knew the absolute truth. It felt like a nightmare, only it was completely real, and much, much worse than I expected. I felt like everyone I knew and loved who I spoke up about it to had lied to me, and were blinded by their love for me in every other aspect to be able to tell me the truth.
I felt so angry, betrayed and hopeless, and I still do as I’m writing this. Maybe this feeling of despair will fade again over time, but the bottom line is, I do not compare. I’m not even close to being on par.
It’s such a shame how much I have going for me and the wonderful life and friends I’m lucky to have of which I am eternally grateful for, but am and always will be absolutely pathetic in this specific area, no matter what anybody says; “it doesn’t matter”, “I like it for what it is”… yeah? Well I don’t.
I hate it. It’s not fair. Fuck this shit.
3. I have gotten to the point in my life where I feel I have no purpose on this planet; more particularly western contemporary society.
I am a black man. I am proud to be a black man. I will protest on the streets for whenever I see systematic racial injustice. I don’t agree with everything #BLM do but I damn well support their message. Anyway I didn’t come here to preach my politics.
I am here because I am a 19 y/o black man with a 3.5 inch dick. I used to not care much about my penis size but now I contemplate suicide on the regular cause of what social media and porn expect of my race. There was a good post here a few days ago about how the world views us as inferior subhumans for our lacking in size but I don’t think most of you realize how bad this shit is when your black.
It’s like the world expects all us to have huge cocks to fit the RACIST ‘BIG BLACK C*CK’ stereotype. I goddamn hate it and the people that fetish over it. In recent years we’ve heard of such euphemisms like ‘snow bunnies’, ‘black bull domination’ and of course “once you go black, you never go back” – yeah, as long as you meet the unspoken criteria of having a large penis.
The rest of us are forever living in the shadows of our brothers that won the genetic lottery and were born with a large penis. But fuck you if you flaunt it around to pick up girls with this BBC fetish; you aren’t part of the problem, YOU ARE THE PROBLEM.
I am a virgin and the closest I came to intimacy with another girl was when I was 17 and I was texting a girl I was crushing on. We were sexting at one point and then she asked me to show her my big black dick. An assumption that tore all the confidence and dignity I had into pieces. Out of pressure I reluctantly sent her a dick pic from the most flattering angle possible and she didn’t respond.
I now have constant anxiety whenever the subject of sex is mentioned around me. I steer clear of any female contact for fear of further humiliation. I was feeling particularly shitty one day and was in the mood for some self-loathing so I had a browse on that small dick humiliation subreddit and seen posts saying: “your tiny cock will never get near my tight pussy, this pussy is BBC territory”.
What’s the point guys if we are shamed and humiliated constantly for the crime of existing. For real, once my mom passes I think I’m finna rope and leave this cruel world behind.
4. I’m sick of being used as an insult.
Its fucking bullshit how socially acceptable it is to rip on us, or use us as an insult.
I’m seriously fed up with being a fucking punching bag. Having a small dick on top of being bad looking and a 29 year old loser from years of bullying and ostracization just fucking destroys you.
It really does feel like the rest of the world told me “fuck you for existing”, especially when people defend the use of “small dick(often ‘peepee’ by truly condescending people)” as a generalized insult, along with the use “small dick energy”.
They say “we aren’t body shaming anyone” as a defense, despite them literally using small dicks as a negative thing you don’t want to have.
They just can’t fucking grasp how they’re shaming every single small dicked person when using SDE, and they don’t fucking care either.
5. My size is 3.75×3.5 and I’ve struggled with it all my life.
First time a girl saw me was high school, she mocked me and told everyone, I was bullied for months. This made me stay away from dating altogether for 5 years until earlier this year.
I’m 22 now and I’ve been working with a therapist who told me that my size falls within the “normal” range. He said normal is defined as being able to cause a pregnancy naturally apparently. I have no idea why this is considered the normal range. So he said I shouldn’t worry as it won’t be a problem, as if people have sex only to reproduce. He said now people at this age aren’t like high school.
So I built up my courage and tried. I talked to a girl for over a month and we had several dates and everything was going well. Until we tried it. I was prepared. I had my own condoms (she also had condoms with her, but hers would probably not fit me at all). I had a perfect date with her and then went home, everything was ready to have a good night last night. When we got to the bedroom and were going to do it, she looked surprised but didn’t say anything. We actually tried. For a moment I thought it’s working fine, then she says “are you sure it’s in there?”
Yeah. That. I was sure but also knew what was going on. But we tried another position with her on top and it was the same. She says “Sorry, I’m not feeling anything in there…”
Then she came off and goes to the bathroom. Comes back and tells me that it’s not my fault, “we’re just not sexually compatible. Maybe we can be friends instead?”
Leaves. Sends text later asking if I’m alright.
Look. I’m not blaming her. She had good reasons to reject me and she was nice about it (unlike the girl in high school). Of course I’m not blaming girls here, I’m just blaming my bad luck. Sex is a two way street and I can’t contribute, so it makes sense that I’m not going to have a partner.
And screw my therapist for all the happy-go-lucky BS that he fed me. I wanted to go to him again and say it to his face but I don’t want to give him any more of my money.
6. It really kills me that despite everything I do to improve myself in every area of life – from fitness to career to hobbies and skills – i’m perpetually haunted by my dick. i would say that i look totally fine, almost even attractive, and i’m quite happy with my height, and i’m grateful to have gotten those genetic blessings, but i am aware throughout every hour of my life of the pencil dick in my pants.
people around me look at me and my life and think i have it great. i have a good job, i’m super skilled in certain things, I have a girlfriend, it’s all that a lot of people would want. it kills me that i can’t be satisfied with all of that.
I have a girlfriend but i know she wishes i was bigger, she’s insinuated as much even though she tried to be nice about it. Idk man. i try so hard to make the rest of my life go well, but I can’t change the one thing that fuels me to work on everything else. probably will love the rest of my life with this insecurity, huh. makes me want to scream quite often. =