People always want to know, “So… what’s it like?” As if there’s some secret club or mysterious world that opens up when you’re packing a lot more than the average guy. And I get it. It’s not a topic people discuss over lunch. But honestly, after living with it for years, it’s just part of my everyday reality—one that’s both hilarious and a little complicated.
First, let’s just get this out of the way: yeah, it’s big. Like, really big. I’m a grower, not just a shower, so we’re talking about 8 inches soft, 12.5 hard. No, I’m not exaggerating. It’s been that way since I was a kid. I remember in elementary school, realizing I was, let’s say, outpacing the other boys. By sixth grade, in the locker room, it was already obvious—there’s just no hiding it at a certain point. In college, word gets around fast.
Now, does it give you confidence? Absolutely. It’s a built-in ego boost. I’m not going to lie: attention from girls is a real thing, and there’s a whole spectrum of reactions. Most are positive—some are curious, some are shocked, a few are a bit intimidated. It can be a massive (pun intended) conversation starter, and sometimes that alone opens doors. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t benefited from that. While some guys flex their muscles or show off their cars or money, I know what’s working in my favor.
But it isn’t all just swagger and high fives. There are real downsides and awkward moments, too. In public, yeah, sometimes women (and guys) stare. The whole “my eyes are up here” thing goes both ways—trust me, I know when I’m getting checked out, and it can be funny or weird, depending on the situation. Buying clothes, especially pants and underwear, is a nightmare. You need room, and most stuff just isn’t designed for it. Sometimes it feels like every outfit is an exercise in creative concealment, unless I just decide to let the bulge happen, which… sometimes I do.
The biggest thing most people want to know about, though, is sex. Let’s be real: sex is different. I’ve had girls straight-up say, “That’s not going in me.” Some are excited, some are hesitant, some just can’t handle it physically or mentally. The key is going slow—foreplay, lube, patience, lots of communication. I’ve learned to read body language, to check in constantly, to use my hands to limit depth, and to never, ever just “go for it.” With a few partners, it’s been amazing. With others, it’s a non-starter. There’s definitely a subset of women who want to be with me because of my size, which is flattering, but can also feel superficial, like I’m reduced to a body part. And yes, there are plenty who are just not interested, and that’s fine. It’s not for everyone.
One of the best parts is seeing the genuine reaction when someone sees it for the first time—shock, excitement, sometimes nervous laughter. There’s a thrill there, I won’t pretend otherwise. I like knowing I can give someone an experience they haven’t had before. And I’ve heard, more than once, that it was “the best they’ve ever had.” That never gets old.
But there’s a responsibility, too. I really have to be careful. I’ve hurt people before (never on purpose), and that never feels good. With great power comes great responsibility, right? It means taking the lead on making things safe, fun, and comfortable for both of us.
Friendships? Sure, guys notice. Locker rooms, drunken nights, whatever. There’s always a bit of curiosity and, yeah, sometimes jealousy or rumors. I’ve had a friend say, “Dude, my girlfriend heard about you before I did.” It’s mostly good-natured, and I try not to let it go to my head.
Long-term relationships are possible. I had a nearly year-long one in college. The first few weeks took adjustment, but after that, it was just normal—sex every day, fun, comfortable, no issues. But yeah, you have to find someone who’s up for it, and that narrows the pool a little.
I do worry sometimes that it’s shaped how people see me, or even how I see myself. It’s not who I am, but it’s part of my story, and sometimes it feels like it’s all anyone wants to talk about. I’ve had to learn how to set boundaries, how to make sure I’m valued for more than just what’s in my pants. Career-wise, it hasn’t changed anything—except maybe distracting me in college for reasons you can probably guess.
Would I trade it? No way. I love it. But it isn’t magic, and it doesn’t fix your life. It just adds a unique set of challenges and opportunities. Most days, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
So yeah, it’s fun, it’s complicated, it’s attention-getting, and it’s just… my normal. And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing.